Azmaish-e-Ishq

Ch. 28: Jealousy

Heer's P.O.V.

Post getting married, my relationship with Ami has grown even more. Before I would usually go over to their house to see Salaar or accompany one of my parents, but now I go to spend time with just her. We speak over the phone nearly every day when I'm in London too.

Post another two trips to London, I was back in Manchester. After dropping by Hayat to pick up a drink for her and myself on my day off, I went to Ami's. Anne was out with Baba.

"Kitna achcha hota agar Salaar bhi yahan hota, Ami," I pouted while helping her fold some laundry.
(It would be so nice if Salaar was here too, Ami.)

"Hai na? Kaash ussey yahan kuch mil jaata, toh wahan nahin jaana padta... Lekin kam se kam tum yahan ho, beta," she smiled, caressing my face.
(Right? I wish he had found something here, then he wouldn't have had to go there... But at least you are here, dear.)

I returned the smile. "Where do you want me to put these?" I lifted the stack of linen.

"Oh, I'll put it away. Leave it there, Heer."

"It's not a problem, Ami. Khamakha aap ko upar jaane honge. Main rakh deti hoon."
(You'll have to go upstairs for no reason. I'll put it.)

"Alright then, dear. You can just leave the first two on my bed and then spread one of the other two bed sheets on Salaar's bed. You can put the remaining one in his closet with the rest."

"Okay. Please go and sit now! You're always working," I pushed her to the sofa gently with my hands on her shoulders. "Have the strawberry acai refresher. I know it's your favorite."

"Alright alright," she giggled. "Go and come back quickly. We'll watch a drama."

I nodded sweetly before going upstairs.

After I entered Salaar's room, I spread the fresh sheet onto his bed then opened his closet, putting the other one on a shelf. My eyes then fell to the very few hanging clothes of his.

My fingers grazed the fabrics, landing on his grey hoodie. I brought the sweatshirt to my nose, taking in the familiar smell.

The soft material and enticing scent reminded me of his hugs, the comfort in his embrace.

Without me realizing it, I took it off the hanger and slid it on.

It was oversized, but it felt like I was surrounded by him.

I turned around and made my way for the door, my eyes travelling over his bed.

If wearing his sweatshirt felt like this, then imagine how cozy his be-

No. No no, Heer. Stop.

I shook my head quickly then shut the door. When I emerged in the living room, Ami looked up at me with a small smile, her head tilting in confusion at the new change to my outfit.

I sat down next to her, pulling each sleeve to cover my hands while murmuring, "Thand lag rahi thi toh..."
(I was feeling cold, so...)

Really, Heer? It's late May.

She nodded, stifling a smirk.

As we watched a telefilm, I burrowed myself in the hoodie, wondering about what its rightful owner was up to.

"Salaar ka message hai kya?" Ami questioned when my phone buzzed.
(Is it Salaar's message?)

It indeed was, 'Miss you 🦟'

"Ji."
(Yes.)

She stood up, "What's he saying?"

"He's calling me a mosquito as usual," I chuckled.