PROTECTOR OF KHAN- AU Tere Bin universe where Murtasim is Meerab's bodyguard.
The Khan family established its reign over Hyderabad as land owners, whilst keeping an iron grip on their rivals to maintain political control. Anwar Khan is the embodimen...
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Fire crackled in the furnace of their chalet that stayed the same size but felt cosier with the growing family that used it for a winter getaway. Cheerily, Mahir sat colouring in his own little bubble, Musa slurped hot chocolate that'd turned room temperature while watching Bluey on the huge TV, and Maaz napped just in view, his arms outstretched, with little croaky snores tumbling off his lips.
In the quiet corner of the open plan kitchen behind them, Murtasim nuzzled into his wife's personal space, his hands looping around her hips as her spatula stirred slithers of onion without flinching for the pungent fumes lingering around them — having 3 boys made her immune to smells.
"I missed you," Murtasim confessed softly into her neck, his weight leaning on her like a pest.
"These onions will burn," Meerab deadpanned.
Oil sizzled and spat in warning.
Heedlessly, Murtasim pulled the claw clip out of her hair and her signature curls cascaded down her back, concealing the thin strip of her apron's necktie. It was pushed aside. Then, the vibration of Murtasim's hum tickled the flesh beneath Meerab's ear as he leaned closer and weighed up her response if he nibbled on her earlobe and suckled—
"Don't even think about it, Murtasim. Bacche dekh lengye; mujhe nahi pasand."
Could she read his mind? Murtasim nose scrunched on being told off, pondering over when she'd unlocked this new super power, additional to the multitasking and sharp memory of being a triple boy-mom. "Maine tou kaha tha ke aik chef bhi saath ley aate hai," he grumbled.
"Mere haathon ka khaana pasand nahi hai tumhein?" She questioned, her husband now treading in dangerous territory. Meerab threw in the minced garlic and ginger that'd been resting on the corner of her chopping board.
"All your boys finish their plates and you know it," he whispered beside a pearl earring that swung and mesmerised him effortlessly. "There's magic in these hands, nawabzaadi."
Your boys made her smirk. The remark's suggestive double meaning also was not lost on her.
The house was full of boy things, from his colognes, to building block toys and blue overalls the little ones wore. "Well, I do have good boys," she lied to console herself, cries and shouts still fresh in her ears from when they failed to share toys. It had taken long to put nearly 2-year year old Maaz back to sleep, even taking turns with white noise on full blast. "And I hope this holiday you arranged will be good for family bonding."
His businesses had flourished, but that also meant Murtasim took too many work trips and it became difficult to take 3 little kids along with him whenever a trip beckoned him.
Like a fluent chef, that had spent too many hours with Daadi, Meerab threw in spices and water and then a pressed to lid overtop so all the flavours could fuse. Strategically, she added no chilies to the pilau or else the babies would complain. Earlier, she whizzed up a super spicy chutney beforehand or else her husband would whinge.
