His Prisoner 21+

35

Emaan's eyes snapped open as she felt a hand tap her cheek. She found Arzal, shirtless, sitting beside her. He helped her sit up and tucked the comforter around her. She noticed he had dressed her in his shirt after she had fainted.

Her eyes moistened as she met his gaze.

He brought a glass of water to her lips. "Pani pi." He said softly. (Drink water.)

She drank slowly, finishing the entire glass, and her parched throat felt a bit better.

"Itni pyaas lagi huwi thi?" he asked, smiling amusedly. (Were you that thirsty?)

Emaan turned her face away, showing him she was upset and unwilling to speak to him.

He pinched her chin, turning her face towards him. "Emaan."

Suddenly, she began to cry, covering her face with her hands.

"Emaan, enough," he said sternly, his voice rough, as he removed her hands from her face.

He picked up a soup bowl from the side table, filled a spoonful, and brought it to her mouth.

She shook her head, sniffling. Though hungry, she didn't want to eat anything from him, especially not from his hands.

"Khao yeh, tumne itne time se kuch bhi nahi khaya hai." (Eat this; you haven't had anything for so long.)

She reluctantly parted her lips, allowing the spoon to slide in. Since she hadn't eaten in almost three days, he had brought soup instead of something solid to avoid making her feel nauseous.

After a few spoonfuls, she shook her head in refusal. He didn't force her to eat more, understanding her lack of appetite.

Arzal stood up, placed the bowl back on the side table, and handed her some pills along with another glass of water. She took them silently and handed the glass back to him after drinking from it.

He grabbed her hair tightly with one hand and clutched her jaw with the other, making her lips pucker as he aligned his face with hers. "Apna silent treatment band kar. Agar tujhe itna hi ghoongha ban'ne ka shauq hai toh teri zubaan kaat dunga." (Stop this silent treatment. If you like being mute so much, I'll cut out your tongue.)

Her eyes immediately watered. Whimpering, she reached for his hand in her hair, trying to free herself from the burning pain in her scalp, but her weak body couldn't break his strong hold. His piercing gaze sent chills down her spine. Instead of apologizing, he was scaring her again, showing no remorse for his actions.

"Uth kar koi kapra pehnegi, toh sirf meri shirt pehnegi. Samajh ayi?" (If you get up to put on some clothing, you'll wear my shirt only. Understand?)

"J-ji." (Y-yes.)

Although he preferred her without clothes, when she wore anything, he wanted it to be his shirt, so she would carry his scent. It relaxed him when she was close, covered in his scent.

He pushed her away, making her weak body lay flat on the bed, then covered her properly with the comforter. He turned off the lights and left her alone in the darkness.

Her heart was breaking from his cold treatment. Because of the pain-numbing and sleeping pills he had given her, she instantly fell into a deep sleep as soon as she closed her eyes. Despite wanting to shower badly, she didn't have the energy to move a muscle. She didn't even know how many hours or days she had been locked away in the basement.

After long hours of sleep, Emaan woke up, slowly opening her eyes. She felt much better and surprisingly wasn't in as much pain compared to yesterday, thanks to the pills. She felt dirty, having not bathed in days. She slowly got up, wincing and limping her way to the bathroom. Her body ached from the torture it had endured.