I've Got My Eyes On You

Chapter 40 - Lonely

Hi again!!!! Yes I'm here to request to put up our headphones on again - with "Fraud" Ost by Ali Zafar for all the right feels!

And don't forget to look at the header!!!

See y'all

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The following night

Murtasim stood beside the pool in the open basement of the mansion, a stark figure against the predawn light. Dressed in a black shalwar kameez, a white shawl hanging loosely over his shoulders, he looked like a ghost of his former self. His eyes were bloodshot, refusing to blink, as if closing them for even a moment would let the torment inside him take over completely. It was 5 in the morning, and the world around him was silent, still unaware of the storm raging within him except him.

The words echoed in his mind relentlessly, "Thank Meerab," Akram had sneered, his voice dripping with malice. And then, Meerab’s own admission, "I went there with my own will," reverberated like a cruel mantra. The betrayal cut deeper each time he replayed it, and with every repetition, his anger and frustration grew.

It seemed years had passed, yet it seemed she had admitted a second ago turning his world upside down. His breath felt dried’ he could feel it; dead and dried.

Sukki sanwan naal mein; kadde kayi saal mein

Mar jawan mein te tere sadke

Suddenly, in a burst of rage and power, Murtasim turned back and struck the long table beside him with his arms, sending the glasses and a jug of water crashing to the tiles by the pool. The sound of shattering glass filled the air, a cacophony that mirrored the chaos in his soul. One of the glass shards struck his palm, and blood began to flow freely from the cut, but the physical pain was a mere echo of the agony in his heart.

Upstairs, Meerab sat devastated in their room, huddled on the floor beside the bed, her body racked with sobs. Her eyes were red, swollen, and the irony

Murtasim was present under the same roof. The absolute irony of life

That she still was crying when he was present there.

The sound of breaking glass jolted her out of her grief, and instinctively, she ran towards the source. Her beige dupatta flew behind her as she descended the stairs, her heart pounding with fear and desperation.

Reaching the basement, Meerab froze for a moment, her eyes taking in the scene before her. The glass shards glittered ominously on the floor, and her gaze fell on Murtasim, sitting against the tiles by the pool, blood dripping from his hand. Tears dried in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, terror and concern flooding her veins.

“Murtasim!” she cried, her voice breaking as she rushed to his side. She reached out to grab his arm to comfort him, but he pushed her away with a force that left her stumbling back. His eyes, usually so full of warmth and love for her, were now hard and unyielding, a fortress of pain and betrayal.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. The raw edge of his pain was evident, and it cut through Meerab like a knife. She fell to her knees in front of him, tears streaming down her face, her hands trembling as she tried to reach out again.

“Door hato;” he paused, “Kaanch lag jayega tumhe”

Agg jisne jala diya mujhko
Us tapish ko seene se lagata kese

“Murtasim, please,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let me help you.”

But he shook his head, his jaw clenched tightly. “How can you help, Meerab?” he spat, his words laced with bitterness.