Raah-e-ishq

CHAPTER 12

AUTHOR'S POV :

Zimal's breath stilled as her gaze locked onto the man lounging on the sofa, his presence a storm she hadn't anticipated. Her eyes traced the line of his sleek black Oxford shoes, climbed the expanse of his broad shoulders, and finally settled on his face.

The exhaustion in his dark eyes was evident, shadowed with sleepless nights. His hair, once meticulously styled, was now in disarray, much like the turmoil swirling in her mind. The rough stubble lining his jaw only added to his rugged allure, but it was his gaze that truly unsettled her—a gaze that could pierce through any facade, yet revealed nothing in return.

Zimal shifted her stance. The silence between them was thick, each heartbeat echoing in her ears. What on earth is he doing here? The question lingered in her mind, tinged with both curiosity and fury. She glared at him, her eyes narrowing as if she could slice through the tension with a single look. What is this be murawwat man planning now?

Sikander watched her, his dark eyes narrowing as he tried to decode the storm brewing behind her expressionless face. Is she planning to tear me apart with that look? he wondered, frustration gnawing at him.

Despite his efforts, Zimal's expression gave away nothing—just the blank mask she had perfected over the years. He rose from the sofa, his movements measured, the air between them crackling with unresolved tension. "I'm here to take you with me," he stated, his voice low but firm. "You're coming with me."

His each word ignite a fire within Zimal. Her eyes widened, her anger bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over. Samajhta Kya hai khud ko. Is ke baap ki mulazim hoon? Her thoughts raced, each one sharper than the last.

Sikander, sensing the tempest brewing within her, averted his gaze, focusing on the floor as if searching for the right words. Khamoshi ki bhi koyi zubaan hoti hai. He rubbed his forehead, frustration evident in his every movement. Even in her silence, he could feel her anger radiating, a silent scream that echoed in the charged atmosphere.

For a moment, he felt a twinge of regret, but it was quickly smothered by his resolve. He needed her to understand, to see reason, even if it meant facing her wrath. The silence between them was unbearable, and he knew that whatever words he chose next would have to be more than just words—they would have to be enough to bridge the chasm growing between them.

*****

Zimal's resolve hardened. Aaj ya to ye puri baat kahein ge, ya phir mere haathon zaya honge. She huffed internally, waiting for Sikander to finally speak. When he did, his voice was unexpectedly measured.

"Mein jaanta hoon us din mere alfaaz ghalat the, lekin meri baat ka matlab itna hi tha ke mein apne aap ko bhi aap pe musallat nahi kar sakta."

Zimal's annoyance simmered just beneath the surface, her gaze drifting to the wall beside her as if searching for an escape from the tension in the room. Is se bara bewaqoof meine aaj tak nahi dekha.

It was only then that she realized they were alone. The emptiness around them pressed down on her, and her heart began to race uncontrollably. Calm down, please. Abhi nahi. She whispered to herself, willing her heart to listen, but it pounded louder, betraying her.

Sikander sighed, the sound cutting through the silence as he picked up his blazer from the sofa. His next words, however, caught her off guard. "Mujhe Bi Jaan ke faisle pe koyi aiteraaz nahi, or agar qismat ka bhi yehi faisla hai to mujhe tah-e-dil se manzoor hai."

Zimal frowned, trying to grasp the depth of his words. Tah-e-dil? Is ka kya matlab? Dil ki teh? The confusion distracted her, pulling her thoughts in different directions. But before she could fully decipher his meaning, she sensed him moving closer.