Meerasim Imagines

Morning After Pt 2

Breakfast was uneventful, with the exception of Haya who sat sulking in a corner, and Ma Begum's raised eyebrow when they both came down to breakfast later than usual. She refrained from commenting, and no one else seemed to notice. Maa Begum was making arrangements to have breakfast sent to Mariam's house, and Murtasim was discussing an upcoming trip to the gao that Anwar Chacha insisted was urgent business. Meerab's heart sank when she heard he would be leaving immediately after breakfast, and wouldn't return until late evening. Murtasim instantly looked in her direction, trying to gauge her reaction to the news of his sudden departure, but she refused to look back at him, choosing instead to pour herself a cup of tea. Dreading Maa Begum chastising her, she reached over, poured a cup for Murtasim too, and pushed it in his direction, avoiding his searing gaze. 

In his defence, after the events of last night, he had completely forgotten about his upcoming trip to the village. At Anwar Chacha's reminder, he remembered and immediately felt a pang of guilt, followed by a heaviness in his heart. The thought of being separated from Meerab, even for a few hours was unbearable. It sank like a heavy weight at the bottom of his heart. Oh how could ever reason, even with his own heart that the very thought of not seeing her smile, not hearing her voice, not being able to look into her eyes for a few hours was not a big deal and it would pass quickly? He considered taking her along with him, but knowing of the risk to her safety, decided it would be an imprudent decision. He had glanced over at her, trying to discern what she was feeling at this news, however while her face was inscrutable, he knew there was a similar turmoil brewing in her heart as well. 

Meerab wished her traitorous heart wouldn't tug with a sudden emptiness at the thought of Murtasim not being around for the rest of the day. Although she would never aknowledge it, his presence had become a sort of constant in her life, a steady anchor that kept her grounded. Glaring at him, she smacked her left elbow against his right arm, and angrily hissed, "tum ney mujhey batana zaroori nahi smjha key tum ja rahay ho?". 

"Kyu tum konsa mujhey miss karti" he asked with a devlish smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief, as he nonchalantly dug into his plate. He was trying to act like he didn't care, but in reality his heart soared at the melancholy look that had first appeared on her face when she heard he was leaving for the day. 

"Its not that I would miss you", she retorted back. "Its just that being your biwi, I would like to be informed of this stuff. Khair, tum jano, tumhari marzi", she said a little too sharply as she picked up her tea cup and buried her burning face in it, hoping no one else at the table had noticed their whisper-hissing at each other. 

Murtasim, feeling a surge of elation at her reaction suddenly felt like teasing her. Ah yes, this was the perfect moment to get back at her for that morning, for pushing him away from her, and suggesting he sleep on the sofa. He loved riling her up. Once she was angry, there was a very specific spot on her cheeks that would turn bright red, and a specific crease that would appear on the middle of her forehead. He found it adorable, and all it made him want to do was to kiss that crease away, and soothe that red spot on her cheek with his lips. 

Eyeing her half-filled cup of chai lying beside her plate, he reached his hands forward. She saw out of the corner of her eye, his hands inching towards her cup, even though his own was lying right there. He waited until she was glowering right at him with her eyebrows raised in a questioning look, and then without breaking eye contact, he raised her cup to his mouth and placed his lips on the exact spot on the rim of the cup where her blush pink lipstick stains marked it previously, and took a deep gulp, almost emptying her cup. This was followed by another gulp, without blinking once, until her entire cup was empty. Meerab's entire face turned a deeper red than the apples lying on the breakfast table, and she looked around the table frantically to check if anyone had noticed his brazen gesture or not. After realising mercifully, that no one had, (even if a small part of her wished Haya had witnessed it) she loudly cleared her throat, glaring daggers at him, hoping no one would notice the rapidly changing colour of her face from, rosy pink to a deep maroon. As much as she told herself otherwise, she knew it wasn't just the thought of someone in the family picking up on Murtasim drinking chai from her cup that made her heart hammer so loudly. She also knew it were the deliciously sinful thoughts that entered her head on seeing his lips touch the same spot her mouth had been, him drinking chai from her cup that made her fantasise about other things his lips had done to her, and other places on her where they had been.