Ishq-e-Junoon

29. Taskeen

-Ishq bhi kya ajeeb bimaari hain,
Zindagi hamari hain, par talab tumhari hain

☾

It was almost midnight, and the soft hum of the kettle filled the kitchen as Izzah prepared her tea. She had a sudden urge for chai, perhaps a distraction from the restlessness she felt. Shahmeer hadn't come home yet, his absence now a familiar companion.

He had been so busy lately, juggling meetings, campaigns, and travels as the election season approached. The weight of his responsibilities concerned her deeply.

Politics demanded every ounce of his energy, dealing with countless people, navigating power dynamics. Winning mattered—he had told her that on nights when sleep escaped him. But as she thought about him, her heart softened.

Even with everything on his plate, Shahmeer always made time for her. A small smile tugged at her lips as she remembered his late-night calls, asking if she had eaten, his voice laced with concern. Then there were his unexpected requests for her pictures, the random FaceTime calls that made her blush like a new bride.

His attention, so intimate, so caring, was a world apart from the ruthless and cold man he was known to be outside. For her, he was an amazing husband, a man who made her feel cherished despite the chaos around them.

As Izzah stretched on her toes, trying to reach the cookies on the top shelf, her fingertips barely grazed the edge. Just as she was about to give up, a familiar voice echoed from behind her.

"Kya kar rahi hain aap?" Shahmeer's deep voice broke the silence.

[What are you doing?]

She turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, his suit jacket draped casually over one arm, the top buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a glimpse of his strong chest. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hand through it on the way in. He looked both exhausted and strikingly handsome.

"Kya lagta hain aapko?" she replied, eyes narrowing playfully. "Cookies lene ki koshish kar rahi hoon."

[What do you think? I'm trying to get the cookies.]

He couldn't help but admire her for a moment—she looked radiant in her peach-colored shalwar kameez, her cheeks glowing in the soft kitchen light. She looked like the brightest part of his day, and despite the long hours he had just put in, seeing her made the fatigue melt away.

"Ab aap bas dekhenge ya madad bhi karenge?" she teased, hands on her hips, clearly not giving up on the cookies.

[Are you just going to watch or are you going to help?]

"Madad toh karni padegi," Shahmeer said, smirking as he walked toward her. "Warna aap raat bhar bhi koshish karengi, toh wo cookies aapke haath nahi aayenge."

[I will have to help, otherwise even if you try all night, you won't be able to take the cookies.]

He stood in front of her now, close enough that the air between them seemed to hum with an unspoken connection. Izzah crossed her arms, pouting.

"Aap meri choti height ka mazak udaa rahein hain?" she accused, eyes twinkling with a mixture of mock annoyance and affection.

[Are you making fun of my short height?]

"Kya?" He leaned down just a little, pretending to listen closely. "Ooncha bolein, upar tak awaaz nahi aa rahi aapki."

[What? Speak louder, I can't hear you up here.]