Murtasim sat in his study, flipping through a business journal, but his mind was elsewhere. He had spent the entire day dodging Haya's unsettling stares and her invasive attempts to touch him-again. It had been going on for days, but today had crossed a line. Murtasim clenched his jaw in frustration, and not even the distant rustle of the wind through the curtains could calm him.
His sanctuary was being invaded, and he had no peace in his own home.
The door creaked open, and Murtasim glanced up. Meerab stepped in, her expression unreadable as usual, carrying a stack of papers. She had been in and out of the study all day, working on some case or another. But Murtasim had had enough, and as soon as he saw her, he knew she was his only hope.
"Meerab!" he exclaimed, louder than intended. Meerab looked startled, pausing mid-step.
"Are you alright?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. She dropped the papers on the desk and crossed her arms, looking at him curiously.
"No, I'm not alright!" Murtasim burst out, slamming his journal onto the table. "This house is turning into a madhouse! Haya... she's-she's *molesting* me!" The last words came out in a strangled whisper, his hands thrown up in exasperation.
Meerab stared at him, blinking. A second passed, and then another, before she burst into laughter. She clutched her stomach, doubling over, as her laughter echoed through the study.
"Murtasim Khan," she managed to say between laughs, "the great, terrifying landlord of Khan Haveli is being *molested* by Haya? You can't be serious."
Murtasim scowled, crossing his arms. "I *am* serious. She's behaving like a shameless, *be-haya* woman! Do you know what she did today?" His voice dropped an octave, laden with disbelief and discomfort.
Meerab finally regained control of her laughter and looked at him with a raised brow, clearly waiting for him to explain.
Murtasim leaned forward, lowering his voice dramatically. "This morning, I was in the courtyard, minding my own business. She came up to me with some excuse about needing help with the flowers-" He paused, looking around as if Haya might emerge from the shadows. "-and she *grabbed* my arm, Meerab. She wouldn't let go. Then she started stroking my hand-*stroking*! Do you know how uncomfortable that is? For me?"
Meerab stifled another laugh. "I'm sure it was... unsettling," she said, trying to sound sympathetic but failing miserably.
Murtasim shot her a glare. "Unsettling? She was practically breathing down my neck! I had to pry her fingers off me like I was escaping some kind of trap." He shuddered visibly. "And that wasn't even the worst part."
Meerab's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh? There's more?"
"Oh, there's *more*," he replied, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "She found me in the library later. I was reading, you know, just sitting there *peacefully*-and she just *sat* next to me, too close for comfort. Then she kept trying to... touch my shoulder, my back. I swear, I could feel her trying to brush her hand against mine every time I turned a page."
Meerab couldn't hold it in any longer. She doubled over again, laughter spilling out, her shoulders shaking as she tried to picture the mighty Murtasim squirming under Haya's advances. It was almost too much.
"You... you should have seen the look on her face," Murtasim continued, looking horrified. "I didn't know what to do! I just wanted to disappear."
Meerab finally straightened up, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard. "Why didn't you just tell her to back off?" she asked, grinning widely.
"I *did*! But you know Haya-she's relentless. I told her I was busy, that I didn't have time for her nonsense, but she just..." Murtasim threw his hands up again, exasperated. "She acted all innocent, like she didn't know what she was doing!"
