Colors of Ishq (Tere Bin FF)

chapter six

six / TALES OF TIME

Hi, hi, hi — life has been crazy busy over the last few weeks and writing hadn't been my priority, but here we are. Thank you for showing so much love to this fic even while I was gone, appreciate that so much. Now onto the chapter, happy reading!

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     Bathed in a captivating glow that was kindled by the luster of the moonlight and the flickering lights inside every household, the neighborhoods of Hyderabad were painted with a serenity that remained absent throughout the day's hubbub. The night air drifted through the city, seeping into the tiniest nooks and absorbing the tumult that'd whittled the quiet hours of the day, driving every corner into an uncharacteristic hush.

     Yet, despite the tranquil, starlit sky that shrouded the Khan haveli, the air was punctuated with a restlessness that Meerab hadn't been able to dispel over the past two nights, the darkness reminiscent of secrets that'd remained unspoken between them. Her thoughts had continuously drifted to the solemness and grief she'd witnessed on Murtasim's face that night, emotions etched across his features as if his face were a blank canvas, searing an image in her mind that she hadn't been able to dissemble.

     The memory had gnawed at her, seeking answers to questions that'd been impregnated within the confines of her mind ever since they'd stood close under the leaden sky, soaking one another's warmth. Yet, words had eluded her. For how could Murtasim Khan, the one who'd the world fisted in his palms, feel the hollowness of a loss; of having to succumb to a reality that hadn't been conjured in the depths of his heart?

     But she knew the vulnerability that she'd felt between them that night hadn't been a figment of her imagination: a reality that she could dismiss with ease and forget the curiosity that constantly lingered in her subconscious mind. Rather, the vulnerability had been tangible, soliciting for a chase. And it'd found a sanctuary within her, niggling at her soul allegiantly and piercing through the calmness even in her moments of quiet.

     It was an indispensable empathy that continued tugging at her heart, constantly reminding her of the fragility that'd clouded him in that moment, almost as if the moonlight dancing on his skin had seeped past the confident and stoic poise he'd molded for himself, highlighting cracks that he'd concealed for years. But when the first rays of the sun had flitted through the suite the following morning, the cracks had disappeared, the harshness of the sun returning a flawlessness that'd quenched all her queries, trapping her in the anomaly again, beseeching her into believing the night had never occurred.

     However, the memory of him—his misty eyes flooded with disheartenment, the frown that'd downturned his lips, the slight tremble in his voice and the drooping of his shoulders—had haunted her dreams the night after, murmuring to her about a loss he'd decidedly stashed within the recesses of his soul, unwilling to share with her. And she'd woken up to the dark room, the invasion of the soft glow of the lamp from the passageway a welcoming relief that'd dissipated her thoughts into the midnight air, numbing her mind for the briefest of seconds.

     She'd lain still in bed, the dreams dancing at the edge of her consciousness and she'd concentrated on the orchestra of blurry motions and shadows that the rotating ceiling fan had created, determined to not think about him. But when she'd turned around, the rustling of the sheet underneath adding to the echo of her soft breaths in the quiet, her gaze had fallen over him and the curiosity had engulfed her harshly, stirring a maelstrom of thoughts that'd spread through the nooks of her being.

     His features had bore a heavy contrast in sleep, a raw contentedness that'd drawn her in with a magnetic allure, mirroring the contentment that'd reigned his features the night before after words had withered between them, the whisper of her promise trailing behind. Her gaze had raked over him, the sway of light and shadow on his skin adding to the allure and she'd stretched her arm, the cold sheet in the empty cavern between them brushing against her skin while she'd wanted to map the gentleness of his otherwise stoic features, the hard contours softened in his slumber.