Dhaagey: The Ties that Bind Us

18. wedding drama

Meerab leaned against the passenger side door of the car, her gaze fixed on Murtasim as he maneuvered through the traffic. It was a reasonably long drive to Karachi, and fate – namely Rumi and Maryam - had conspired to leave her alone in the car with Murtasim while they wrangled Maa Begum into their vehicle.

Soft music played in the car, Murtasim's taste hadn't changed much over the years, but Meerab found herself smiling whenever they both agreed on liking or hating something. She loved the way he would hum or sing his favourite parts of a song under his breath, his voice was beautiful, it always had been but he was shy about it.

As the miles stretched before them, Meerab couldn't help but find solace in Murtasim's company, reminding herself to give both Rumi and Mariam a huge hug for their help, for where else was she going to get so many uninterrupted hours with the love of her life.

"Stop staring at me like that, Meerab." Murtasim muttered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine as he deftly switched lanes.

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "No, I am staring at what's mine." She retorted playfully, her heart filling with affection.

Murtasim's lips curled into a knowing smile, his gaze briefly flickering towards her before returning to the road. He was so gorgeous that her heart skipped yet another beat.

Meerab marveled at Murtasim's appearance. He looked effortlessly stunning in his all-black ensemble—a black kurta-pajama paired with a black sadri adorned with a gold pocket square. On the surface, it might have seemed plain, but the quality of the fabric and the impeccable fit elevated the outfit to a new level of sophistication. Even beneath the garments, she could discern the definition of his arms and the breadth of his chest. Every desi woman had a weakness for men in black kurta-pajamas, but Meerab was certain that no one could pull it off quite like her Murtasim.

The allure of his attire was enhanced by his grooming. His neatly trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, and his freshly cut hair was styled away from his face, highlighting his intoxicating eyes. His hair had a slightly tousled quality that tempted her fingers to comb through the strands with an uncontrollable urge.

It was an urge that had plagued her since she had descended the stairs earlier. Her eyes had locked onto his figure, a vision of masculine allure, and her breath had caught in her throat. The desire that had surged within her was palpable, like an electric current pulsating through her veins.

And when his lips had claimed hers in a searing kiss, time had ceased to exist. In that moment, Meerab's world had condensed to the taste and touch of Murtasim. Her body had responded with an urgency that eclipsed all rationality, a primal longing that consumed her entirely.

She had yearned to stay home, to surrender to the fiery desires that raged within her. The mere thought of indulging in passionate kisses that knew no end, of unveiling the mysteries hidden beneath his clothes, sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her. She craved the intimate exploration of his body, the caress of her fingertips against the sinewy muscles she could only imagine concealed beneath the fabric.

As Meerab grappled with her thoughts and desires, a part of her was aware that she should resist the temptations and wait patiently until the day of her marriage. It was a belief deeply ingrained in her upbringing and reinforced by her community.

However, as she contemplated her relationship with Murtasim, her conviction wavered. The love they shared was undeniable, and their connection felt profound. To Meerab, it didn't feel inherently wrong to express her love physically with Murtasim, as they were bound to be wedded, she had accepted that years ago, and had become sure of it in the past weeks.