Based on a twitter edit I saw (link in the inline comment)
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".. usse jaakey batadena ki tum shaadi shuda ho".
A hushed reverence permeated the room, as he stole glances of her alluring face through the mirror, whenever she spoke her eyes they seemed to light up and it was impossible for him to look away. Everytime he looked into her eyes, he felt himself getting alight. A burning fire caught his being, and he felt his every nerve tingle as she briefly lowered her gaze. His head was in the la la land as he registered her words, the unspoken thoughts were on the edge of his tongue.
But he kept them in, they were progressing, Meerab had although never accepted her feelings but atleast she accepted their bond.
The bond of souls.
His eyebrows arched in a curious dance, an unconscious response to the intrigue that her presence stirred within him. A delighted laugh escaped his lips, tracing the contours of genuine joy as he reveled in her words. She was jealous, and had accepted the fact that they were married.
She had accepted the fact that she was his wife, Meerab Murtasim Khan, his name at the end of hers always ignited a joyful emotion from deep within.
Holy hell...
His gaze, a silent poet, subtly wandered, capturing stolen glances at the elegant curves that adorned her form. Each stolen glance was a delicate indulgence, an involuntary acknowledgment of the allure she effortlessly exuded. In those moments, the air crackled with a shared energy, a magnetic pull that rendered him momentarily captivated by the subtle nuances of her being.
She was turned away and just now she had shown signs of jealousy, her yellow kurti snug her form the dupatta had swirled when she had turned. her wavy hair softly touched her arc, and he couldn't look away. It was as if he was spell bound, he was in his own world, his bubble of space that second, envisioning how soft it would feel if he touched ... many nights he had looked at her face wondering how her body would feel against his, skin touching, his tanned hand running against her pale skin, he couldn't help but sigh at the thought. Without the yellow dress, how smooth her skin would be against his rough hand, her soft pale hand compared to his veiny tanned one always drove him crazy. He felt like he could envelop her entire being with his body, shield her from the world from every pain and suffering.
Why did it feel as if every inch of his body were touching hers, enveloping hers, smothering her - when it was just his gaze?
His lips parted, although this marriage was gave him zero benefits... the view wasn't bad.
He wanted to capture that view... on his phone.
Nah.. a phone would fail to capture her beauty.
DSLR? Yes, that could capture every detail of her. But the problem was it was two dimensional, it would still fail to capture her dips and curves.
He had read many books, to understand the relationship between a man and his wife, and as he looked her up and down at the gentle curve through her yellow kurti, he realized how much he would like to practice some of the things he read.
These feelings had began from the valimah night...
Formerly too although he had always appreciated Meerab's physical appearance, their long-standing rivalry muted any chances of such reaction. He always thought she was beautiful, but she was off limits. How had he gone on so long under-appreciating her?
'Because,' said a small voice in his head, 'you're an idiot.'
He agreed...
He was truly an idiot to have signed the contract.
He wanted to pull her in his arms and fondle her body, or maybe he could just appear behind her at this moment and act as if it was an accident...
His thoughts made him feel like a pervert...
It was all because of that bloody contract, it was keeping him a couch length's away from his lawfully wedded wife, she was his with or without the contract. But due to it he wasn't even allowed to caress her hair.
If a collision occurred, Meerab would likely point fingers at him, sparking yet another argument.
Let's not mar this...
They had made a considerable progress from the time when she even hated looking at his face...
Let's not ruin this...
As she attempted to apologize, he found himself admiring her, prompting him to exhale-a futile attempt to dispel the burning thoughts and desires that stirred within him, clouding his rational mind. Despite his efforts, those persistent thoughts lingered, his lips subtly curving in appreciation while his eyebrows raised.
"Toh tum mujhe apna shauhar maan ne lagi ho?"
The way her back profile accentuated her slender figure and feminine curves. He traced the outline of her neck covered by her wavy hair with his gaze, noticing how it led to her soft shoulders and the gentle slope of her collarbone. He watched as her hair flowed down her back like a waterfall, shimmering in the light.
He felt a pang of longing as she faced him, and the scene replayed in his mind. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he wanted her more than anything.
"Nahi..", she said twisting her own words, and the tension was gone. Dead.
She always enticed him with her words, playing with his emotions and when he thought she would give-in... she always seemed to disappoint him.
They were back to stage one, although her beauty still attracted him, he was offended by the fact that he didn't had a similar effect on her. He was a handsome man, then why wasn't she burning for him like he was?
He remembered the golden rules were to always take pride in your appearance and listen to what she says.
He listened to her every word, they echoed in his mind like a broken tape at lonely nights...
