Meri Musibat [Tere Bin FF]

5. 20, 23 - Part 3

A/N: It's a super long chapter, I didn't have the heart to break it up, so y'all better appreciate it, hahaha. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A muffled world greeted them, one where even the storm seemed to bow in respect to the gravity of their situation. The rain came down in relentless sheets, almost blurring the surroundings, distorting the minimal light that managed to pierce through the inky blanket of the night sky.

Every drop that kissed their skin seemed to be infused with the chill of the night, soaking them to the bone and adding a weight to their steps that was more than just physical. The wind howled like a restless spirit, swirling around them, an eerie serenade that echoed the tumult within Murtasim's heart.

Their handcuffed, and clasped, hands swung between them in a rhythm that felt both alien and intimate.

Murtasim found himself acutely aware of the texture of Meerab's hand within his grasp. Remarkably, despite her seemingly fiery, resolute nature, her hand bore a stark contrast to her vibrant spirit - it was small and soft, an anomaly he hadn't perceived until now. The softness was unexpected, conflicting with the bold, unyielding force of personality that usually radiated from her.

Her hand seemed almost incongruously delicate in his larger, rougher palm, as if revealing a facet of her being that was often overshadowed by her formidable presence. The innate warmth emanating from her was a comforting beacon amidst the stormy night, a subtle reassurance in the cold breeze that swept around them.

The click-clack of Meerab's heels played a counterpoint to the symphony of the storm, a stark reminder of the inappropriateness of her attire for the circumstances they found themselves in.

Murtasim couldn't help but glance downwards, his eyes tracing the delicate arch of her foot, poised precariously on the towering gold heels. The straps seemed like thin golden chains, binding her to an expectation, a norm that was now inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. She had dressed for a wedding, and she was trapped in a situation that required running shoes rather than heels.

An unsolicited memory flashed before his eyes; of Meerab's graceful walk down the stairs earlier that day, an elegance that seemed innate, effortless. But here, now, that grace seemed to be put to test.

He could feel the strain in her steps, the slow descent from a walk to a limp, a testimony to her perseverance yet a thorn in his empathetic heart. Each falter of her step, every slight grimace that marred her beautiful face was like a prick to his conscience, he had gotten them into the situation after all with his inability to keep his eyes on the road.

He tried to ignore it. But it was a fight within him, a battle between the ingrained stoicism expected of a feudal lord that wasn't supposed to care about such little nuances and the raw, burgeoning concern for the woman tethered to him.

The peculiar silence on the road seemed to echo the chaos within him, a sense of isolation that seemed both comforting and alarming. The lack of traffic was an anomaly, even though these roads were never busy, they were also never empty like they were that night. It didn't make sense.

His heartbeat seemed to reverberate in the space between them, a loud drum that marked the passage of time, the distance covered, and the growing awareness of her discomfort. He could feel the wetness seeping through his clothing, the moisture that seemed to have a life of its own, a sentient entity that whispered secrets into his ear, secrets that spoke of vulnerability, of compassion, of a tenderness that seemed alien yet strangely familiar.

As he watched her limp, her bravado slowly giving way to the undeniable discomfort, he felt something break within him, a dam that held back rivers of concern, of protective instincts that seemed to have found a focal point in the petite figure beside him.