Colors of Ishq (Tere Bin FF)

chapter three

three / CHOOSING YOU

     Meerab remained elusive throughout the day, her presence barely perceptible within the walls of the Khan haveli, an absence that'd borne down on Murtasim, but he hadn't intruded into her personal space. He'd been acutely aware of the nooks she'd found comfort in and he'd lingered at a distance, observing her while his mind had been filled with an array of thoughts that eclipsed around wanting to see her smile again, her feistiness reverberating through him.

     However, the emptiness of the day was a stark realization that he needed to talk to her, understand the depth of Haya's malice to find a resolution that would dissipate her insecurities and convey that his love for her wasn't solely pertained to words, but a willingness to go beyond and crumble the ideas that threatened to harm her.

     It was a promise to prioritize her, not out of responsibility but because his heart desired to.

     The room bathed in the soft golden glow of the light enveloped him in an embrace that was a palpable blend of resolve and tension as he stayed awake for Meerab to return into the room. Despite his determination of talking to her and uncovering the secrets she held within, a lingering fear encompassed him, reminding him of the silence she'd coiled into, finding solace in the austerity.

     But it was a gentle rebuke that his attempts hadn't been entirely sincere. For every time, she'd lapsed into the silence, he'd too, fearing he'd interfere and repulse her, but he'd slowly realized that Meerab wished for the persistence, to know that someone cared for her and would fight the shadows she'd failed to battle herself.

     The soft sound of the approaching footsteps echoed in the hush of the room and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers and her steps halted, a surprise coloring the pair of coffee-brown orbs due to his wakefulness. He stared at her, contemplating her steps, a flicker of cluelessness shrouding him. He half-expected her to mumble about some pending work, turn around and leave the room with hurried steps, retreating into the avoidance again.

     But she sighed and looked away, her gaze focused on the floor as she traipsed to the other side of the bed, her steps hesitant and measured, and she unwrapped the dupatta, dropping it on the yellow armchair. He'd stopped anticipating her protests after the first few days, her claims of the bed belonging solely to her evaporating in the air.

     Instead, she'd resigned to a quarter of the bed, a cavern of distance separating them, a barrier that even though invisible in nature, was a palpable distance that stole the intimacy of the moment. Her posture every night seemed to stiffen marginally, as though, with each passing day, the chasm between them was growing wider and louder, screaming at him, reprimanding his actions.

     It was a horrifying reminder of his misplaced trust and the potential loss his life could've succumbed to, draining the light he'd begun rediscovering in the darker nooks of his life. He'd wanted to tell her something, convince her that his love for her wasn't a temporary fix, but words had shunned him for he hadn't known where to start from and stop at.

     However, as she laid on the bed now, the sheets cold in between, he wished to eradicate the partition with small steps and draw her back with a gentleness that belied the storm stirring inside him. He wanted to be a part of her life again.

     He switched off the lights, sliding under the comforter and turned toward her, the moonlight filtering through the curtains highlighting the rigidness of her body. Despite the coldness of the sheets, a warmth lingered in the air, filling the space in between and he tugged at the corners of his pillow, shifting closer to her and rustling the sheet underneath. He knew she hadn't fallen asleep yet, her breathing betraying the façade she'd intended to lean into.