His Prisoner 21+

37

The room echoed with low whimpers and grunts as Arzal tossed his head from side to side, drenched in sweat. His face was etched with deep lines of distress, struggling against a torment that gripped him even in his sleep. The battle was one he'd fought for over a decade, a futile attempt to outrun the memories that relentlessly pursued him. No matter how far or fast he ran, they always found him, dragging him back into the darkness.

With a gasp, he bolted upright, his chest heaving with labored breaths. He turned to his side and found Emaan sleeping soundly, nestled beneath the blanket. It was clear he had pushed her away during his nightmare—normally, she was wrapped safely in his arms.

Without sparing her another glance, he swung his legs over the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

The cold shower did little to soothe the storm raging inside him. Though the water cooled his skin, his heart remained restless, growing more agitated with each passing second. The night outside was dark and thunderous, matching the turmoil within him. Once dressed, he set out to the graveyard to visit the one he had lost—a loss he blamed himself for.

..

Hours later, Emaan stirred awake, a smile lighting up her face. Her marriage had been nothing short of blissful, with Arzal showing her unwavering care and affection. He had tended to her wounds with great tenderness, and every evening he brought her gifts—whether flowers or expensive tokens of his love. But material things meant little to her; it was his presence that made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. With each passing day, she fell deeper in love with him. Just recently, he had even bought her a new phone, so she could talk to her family.

Her smile faded into a worried frown as she noticed the empty space beside her. Arzal was nowhere to be found.

Reaching for her phone, she began scrolling through their photos, smiling like someone hopelessly in love. Whenever he was at work, she would look at these pictures, cherishing every memory.

Sighing, she got out of bed to start her day. As she nibbled on some chocolate quinoa, she checked her laptop to confirm when her exams were scheduled.

Morning gave way to midnight, and still, there was no sign of Arzal. He hadn't returned home, nor had he answered any of her calls or messages. Anxiety gnawed at her as she sat near the door, waiting for him, her mind racing with worry. She didn't know who to reach out to at this hour.

Finally, the door swung open, revealing Arzal. He staggered in, reeking of alcohol, his eyes bloodshot.

Emaan rushed to him, her voice trembling with concern. "Arzal, ap kahan the? Ap theek hain?" (Arzal, where have you been? Are you alright?)

"Hatt!" he snapped, shoving her aside. She stumbled, but caught herself against the wall. (Move!)

"Ap ne sharab pi hai?" she asked, noticing the slur in his speech and stood in front of him.

"Get out of my fucking way!"

"Ap ko kya hogaya hai?" she pleaded. (What's wrong with you?)

His response was brutal. He grabbed her jaw, pinning her to the wall. "Don't test me. Warna aisa rakk ke thappar marunga ke tu zindagi bhar nahi bhoolegi." (Don't test me. Or I'll slap you so hard you'll never forget it.)

A shiver of fear ran through her at his cold, menacing tone.

He released her with a violent shove and stormed upstairs to their room. Emaan, shaken, followed him quietly.

"Ap ne sharab kyun pi hai?" She asked him in a small voice. (Why did you drink?)

"Toh ab tujhse puch ke karun har cheez? Tujhe lagta hai tu mere mayyar ki hai? Mere jootey ki nook hai tu, samjhi?!" (Do I need your permission for everything? You think you're worthy of me? You're not even worth the dirt on my shoes, understand?!)

His harsh words cut through her like a knife, crushing her spirit. Tears streamed down her face as she whimpered softly, unable to believe he could speak to her so cruelly.

"K-kya ap mujhse n..naraz hain? Kya ap ne mujhe abhi tak m-maaf nahi kiya hai?" Her voice trembled with fear, the memory of Waleed weighing heavily on her mind. (A-are you still angry with me? Have you not forgiven me yet?)

He whirled around, his strides predatory, and grabbed her hair, yanking her face close to his.

"Ab ek aur alfaaz nikala toh tujhe kamre se bahir phenkdunga!" he hissed, his grip tightening. (Say one more word, and I'll throw you out of this room!)

With a violent jerk, he let her go and collapsed onto the bed, shutting his eyes.

Emaan stood frozen, her mind spinning with confusion and hurt. Why was he acting this way? Why was he hurting her? She couldn't reconcile the gentle, loving husband she knew with the cruel man before her now. Sometimes he treated her like a delicate treasure, and other times, like an enemy he despised.

Wiping away her tears, she cautiously approached him, careful not to wake him. She gently removed his shoes and unfastened the watch from his wrist. Just as she was about to cover him with the comforter, he grabbed her hands, pulling her onto the bed and burying his face in her chest like a frightened child seeking comfort.

"Emaan... Emaan..." His voice trembled, laden with anguish.

"Arzal, ap theek hain?" she asked, her worry deepening as she stroked his hair. (Arzal, are you alright?)

Mature content ahead. (Inkitt.)

"I need you... please..." His voice was so vulnerable, as if he were teetering on the brink of despair.

"Me apki hi hun," she whispered. (I'm yours, always.)

With those words, he seemed to find a measure of peace, as if all his doubts, fears, and insecurities had been momentarily banished.

Deep down, Emaan knew this wasn't the right moment to be intimate, especially with him being drunk and having hurt her so deeply. But she could sense that something was terribly wrong, and she wanted to be there for him, no matter what. She was determined to uncover whatever was tormenting him and to help him in any way she could.

She moved her hand to the back of her dress to unzip it, but Arzal stopped her.

"Apni marzi se karna chahti hai?" (Are you doing this out of your own free will?)

She swallowed hard but nodded.

"Say it," he demanded.

Instead of answering with words, she cupped his face with trembling hands and kissed him softly.

In no time, their clothes were discarded on the floor, though he set his belt aside.

"Apni taangein phela."

Mature Content has been trimmed. (Inkitt.)

After a few moments of heavy breathing, Arzal tenderly cradled Emaan's face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers. His voice trembled as he spoke,"Emaan. Me marr jaunga, Emaan.. me nahi reh sakta tumhare begair. Me marr- (Emaan, I can't live without you... I would die without you. I would die-)

Before he could continue, Emaan quickly pressed her index finger against his lips, silencing him, her eyes pleading for him not to speak of such things.

Gently, he moved her hand away and leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, tender kiss. When he pulled back, his voice was barely a whisper, "Jaana."