I've Got My Eyes On You

Chapter 11 - Meerab's Rigor

“What's going on? Why is she not fine” He asked

Meerab shot Dua a sharp look, her eyes pleading for her friend to stop. Dua, frustration etched on her face, stood up, and Murtasim took a step closer to Meerab.

“Nothing… she is just a bit sick” Dua said, surrendering to Meerab’s silent plea

“Are you sure? What happened” He asked again, turning towards Meerab.

“Nothing, Murtasim, maybe it's seasonal” Meerab made up

The clock ticked steadily, marking the passage of time as Meerab addressed her friend. "It's late, Dua. You should leave now," Meerab's voice carried a strange yet pleading tone, indicative of the conclusion of their meeting. Dua nodded, understanding the unspoken signals that signalled the end of their conversation.

"I will see you soon," Meerab added, her words holding the promise of future reunions. Dua reciprocated the sentiment with a nod, her expression a blend of understanding and camaraderie.

As Dua made her way towards the exit, Murtasim stood in the periphery, an observant figure silently witnessing the exchange. His gaze lingered on Meerab, who turned towards him, passing a slight smile that held a hint of acknowledgement. In that moment, a delicate interplay of emotions unfolded—the camaraderie between friends, the unspoken connection between Meerab and Murtasim, and the acknowledgement of shared moments. The room, though now devoid of Dua's presence, retained the echoes of their conversation, creating a space where the complexities of relationships lingered in the air.

Meerab, with her subtle smile, acknowledged Murtasim's silent presence before gracefully retreating to her room. The door closed behind her, leaving Murtasim alone with his thoughts. The night pressed on, a tapestry woven with the threads of connections, promises, and the unspoken language that defined the intricacies of lives.

Meerab stood alone in her room, the silence enveloping her like a heavy shroud. The absence of Murtasim's presence felt like a void, an emptiness that echoed in the corners of her heart. She had left his room, the temporary sanctuary they had created under the guise of a fake marriage, because Dadi jee wasn't home and there was no reason for her to be there and now, in the solitude of her own space, an unexpected yearning tugged at her. The mind, once filled with the echoes of their shared laughter and clandestine moments, now seemed strangely barren. Meerab traced her fingers along the edges of a book on the shelf, her mind drifting to the inexplicable connection she felt with the enigmatic Murtasim. The fleeting sense of comfort she found in his company lingered, leaving her unsettled in its absence.

As she gazed out of the window, the night sky painted with stars, Meerab questioned the source of this unexpected longing. She had entered into this arrangement for the sake of her writing, to observe and pen down the intricacies of Murtasim's life. Yet, the lines between reality and the fabricated tale they were weaving seemed to blur. In the stillness of the room, Meerab admitted to herself, albeit silently, that she missed him. It wasn't the superficial longing born out of mere proximity, but a connection that transcended the boundaries of their fabricated relationship. Murtasim, with his complex layers and unexpected warmth, had become more than just a subject for his autobiography.

All the events were replaying in her mind like a vivid film. She couldn't escape the persistent question that nagged at the corners of her consciousness: why did she kiss him? Her thoughts were a chaotic jumble, a tempest of confusion and introspection. The memory of their lips meeting lingered, and she couldn't dismiss the fact that there was an undeniable chemistry between her and Murtasim. As she traced her fingers along her own lips, she tried to decipher the emotions that had surged through her in that fleeting moment. Was it the allure of danger that surrounded him, the mystery that shrouded his past, or was it something deeper, something she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge? Meerab questioned the sudden absence of hesitation, the lack of discomfort she had expected in such proximity with an alpha like Murtasim. Although it was a fake one, her breath had hitched numerous times in that moment. Her reflection in the mirror revealed a face marked by both curiosity and self-doubt. Meerab wrestled with the paradox of her own feelings. It was as if an invisible thread connected her to Murtasim, pulling her towards a realm where the rules were undefined and the boundaries blurred.