"...and the one who loves, will always keep you like a rose, even it's broken petals, in his favourite book like a treasure."
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It is said prayers are answered in the most astonishing and unexpected moments o...
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Exhaustion taking over her and strangling her neck. She finds herself in a black, silent and suffocating night sitting on pricking grass. She closes her eyes and lets air caress her lungs. The moment of peace is soon disrupted by frightening footsteps of people running towards her with lanterns and torches.
Her body stays rooted to the ground, not obeying her command. She grips the grass when a hand tries to grab hold of her. The blinding light of the torch gets unbelievably close...
Noor abruptly wakes up and grasps for breath.
"Relax, can you tell me where you are? "
She looks at the doctor who asked her, as he keeps the pen- torch back into his pocket. Disciplining her breath, she looks around. "Hospital..? "
"Great. Tell me your name. "
"Noor ul-Ain. "
He continues with checking her pulse, taps the drip chamber of IV tubing and gives a smile. "Oh! Your husband's here. "
Husband?!
Her gaze follows his and stops at Dawood, for some unexplainable reason she doesn't correct his statement. It is what she wants. The doctor leaves as he pulls a chair beside her bed and sits.
His presence reminding her about Amaan's ring on her finger and the ache in her chest. Her eyes land on his watch, she quickly starts searching for her bag. Grabbing her bag, she looks for her mobile while he tries to register her actions.
She closes her eyes realising that she has lost hers. She starts getting worried about her parents, the urge to get home escalates, there are numerous things that needed to done there rather than lying here enjoying the solitude of his for-a-while presence. She hastily tries removing the cannula off her hand.
"Doctor! " Dawood stands up in an attempt to stop her, " you need rest."
She looks at him and his injured hands, close to hers but not touching, emotions enslaving her. Multiple thoughts suddenly running in her head. She subconsciously voices out her worry, "before it gets worse, I need to leave. "
"Everything is fine, just rest. The riots are no longer going on, I've booked the tickets. Sleep till your medication is done. "
Nothing, nothing is in control. The commotion must've died but the riot in my heart continues to persist, trying to fight it's way out.
"Please."
Is there anyway her heart was going to say 'no' to his requests?
