Colors of Ishq (Tere Bin FF)

chapter two

two / IN THE SHADOWS

Thank you for all the love on the first chapter, I wasn't entirely sure if the idea would click, so really happy to hear y'all liked it. This chapter is super long, so happy reading!

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     As the sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, filling the room with a soft golden warmth, Murtasim stirred in his sleep, the rustling of the bedsheets momentarily disturbing the quiet of the room. He turned around, his gaze darting toward the other side of the bed and he sighed, reaching out to seek the remnants of the warmth that persisted on the sheets, his fingertips running over the creases.

     After Meerab had turned away that night, strangulating her cries into the pillow, she'd transformed into a dull shadow of herself that he'd barely been able to associate with her. The spark in her eyes had been replaced by a dejection flooding her brown orbs, her lips constantly pulled into a sad frown instead of the teasing smiles and pouts, her words refrained to quiets hums of acquiescing that suppressed her willingness to fight and argue, and a nervousness shrouding her through the day.

     It was a dullness that had absorbed her, tightening its clutches upon her and robbing her of the light that enveloped her like a halo. Yet, it'd felt as if both of them were riding the waves of it, drowning in the aftermath of a gloominess that they hadn't envisioned would eclipse their lives for days at a stretch because he'd always applauded her for her strength. Even after her parents had left her, she hadn't let her identity be shattered by the grief, priding on her self-respect that she'd claimed to be independent of her parents' name.

     He'd wanted to break her then, for despite his efforts at fortifying her in the silence of the backyard, under a sky full of stars, she'd disregarded him, abiding to her animosity for him and almost belittling him. He'd believed he'd revel in seeing her shattered, that her tears would satisfy his ego, avenging for the words she'd carelessly tossed at him.

     Instead, it'd churned a pain in his heart, almost like an agony when he'd seen her cry that night on the terrace after his mother had slapped her. She'd claimed the slap to be a harsh reprimand on her principles and beliefs, her personality, yet it hadn't taken away her essence from her, the sorrow and disappointment dissipating into the darkness of the night.

     But it was different now, a resignation that was so unlike Meerab.

     He'd seen that change occur the morning after, when he'd tried to brush the loose strands of hair away from her face, wanting to let her sleep peacefully after days of tension and pain. Her face hadn't been the landscape of tranquility he'd wished for, yet it held a familiar calmness that'd pulled him in, unfolding the need and desire to admire her, her soft breaths picking a rhythm in the room.

     However, she'd woken up to his touch after he'd tucked the strands behind her ear, and looked at him quizzically, a fierceness layering her eyes and she'd sat up, rebuking him for touching her, asking him "yeh kya harkat thi". He'd almost been ready to retort and stir one of their usual quarrels, telling her that he was her husband and it was his right knowing how much it irritated her, a reality she was intent on ignoring, but her withdrawal had been immediate—a shake of her head followed by an apology.

     The sudden shift in her demeanor had fragmented his heart, an implication of a resignation that hadn't consumed her earlier even when the axis of her world had been shifted, plunging her into a realm she'd no cognizance of. He'd wanted to hold her close to himself and assure her that he wouldn't abandon her again, whisper promises of a future that held onto her despite and confess of his love repeatedly, but she'd stepped away, molding herself into the shadow he'd abhorred.