Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

19 - Shareef

The reminisce of their childhood's chocolatey escape was interrupted on hearing the creaking metal gate sound, alerting them of a visitor at their Karachi doorstep despite night warring on. They were interrupted and Murtasim reach for his phone to see the captured CCTV, but finding Anwar's missed call on his lock screen first; Anwar was outside and Murtasim was in her room.

Realisation dawned that Anwar didn't blare the horn was because the house should have been sleeping. Without Murtasim responding, Khateeb must have awoken to unlock the gate. The momentary dream came crashing down as they neared being caught red handed; Meerab wasn't even dressed properly. His white shirt was slightly damp against his abdomen, hair finding a natural wave that hint of the truth that he had just showered.

Whilst the room was lit with only a single side lamp, Murtasim peaked through a slither of the curtains to find Anwar's car in the driveway on a surprise visit. In the same frenzy, Murtasim felt Meerab's fingers firmly press into his forearm, his promise of not marring her image held on by a single paltry threat. ''Baba bahir hai aur tum yahan mere kamre mei adhe raat?'' (Baba is outside and you are here in my room in the middle of the night?)

Murtasim spun from the influx of adrenaline, palming her either cheek with the knowledge that she was panicked, gently exhaling to ease the panic, ''relax, Meerab. Kuch nahi hoeyga.'' (Nothing will happen.)

''Why is here unannounced? How can you — kya karou ga?'' Meerab's breath shuddered, Anwar had raised his hand in the hospital on her disobedience of removing the trackers and this was a far greater insolence. (What will you do?)

Like a suspenseful movie sequence, Murtasim watched in dread as Anwar barged into the annexe with his usual pomp, finding the bodyguard missing. The hunt for the bodyguard began and Murtasim's phone buzzed on the dresser, startling the duo into losing a steady heart beat.

Meerab grabbed for his phone with trembling hands and Murtasim retrived, halting to tell her. ''Put proper clothes on, Meerab.''

''Baba ko patta lag jaeyga?'' The words blurt from her mouth, the white fluffy robe making seem like a panicked angel. (Will baba find out?)

''I'm going now.'' There was no other option; Murtasim had to show his face as duty demand.

''Aren't you going to pick up baba's call?''

Answering her, Murtasim's thumb pushed on the silent button on the side of his iPhone and Meerab only watched as the trainers were pulled onto his feet within the second. ''Tum so jau. It's late,'' Murtasim order in a soft and collected tone, hinting that he would sort everything. (You should go to sleep.)

''How can I sleep now? Tumhe kya— '' She was pale, her doe eyes panicked. (What are you going—)

''Aankhein band karke, nawabzaadi,'' Murtasim explain whilst cool despite his own heart thumping with adrenaline. (By closing your eyes.)

And then Murtasim got up and exit. He was out the glass doors and onto the balcony in a flash, on a mission to pretend he haden't been luxuriating with his secret wife, enjoying as she lather her buttery lotions onto his dehydrated hands like she was at his service.

Meerab stood perplexed that he faced retribution so fearlessly head on, or had an elaborate lie to justify the absence. A prayer was uttered that her husband stay wholly safe, even safer than her with him as a body guard. Wet hair still soaked her gown, legs bare as she stood in a dimmed room, feeling empty handed in his absence. Meerab stood, pulling the heavy curtain to steal the view but Murtasim was already out of sight.

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Outside, the cool evening air attacked the remnants of damp skin. The air was crisp, lacking the humidity of her room. Murtasim's leg, still in those grey jersey joggers, were thrown over the ledge when his hands held onto the top bannister. A tenacious grip was used as he lowered himself, fingers slowly letting go and affixing into the brick at the side before taking a calculated jump backwards and he winced; pain richoetted out from his lowerback. But there was no time for self-pity. Murtasim took the couple steps, watching Anwar's car stood proud in the drive, before slipping into the annexe as if innocent and skin untouched from Meerab's massage. Inside, both Khateeb and Anwar stood waiting with expressions of obvious suspicion.