Jahaan-Ara

Chapter 15: High Heaven

Trigger Warning: Mature Content ahead. Don't complain in the comments section  later. I've already warned you. 
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'I will never again come to your side: I am torn away
now, and cannot return.'

'But, Jane, I summon you as my wife: it is you only I
intend to marry.'
I was silent: I thought he mocked me.
'Come, Jane—come hither.'
'Your bride stands between us.'
He rose, and with a stride reached me.
'My bride is here,' he said, again drawing me to him,
'because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you
marry me?'
Still I did not answer, and still I writhed myself from his
grasp: for I was still incredulous.
'Do you doubt me, Jane?'

'Entirely.'
'You have no faith in me?'
'Not a whit.'.......
You— you strange, you almost unearthly thing!—I love as my own
flesh. You—poor and obscure, and small and plain as you
are—I entreat to accept me as a husband.'
-Jane Eyre

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Thunder roared and the sky exploded heralding the oncoming of a mighty storm. Jahaan-Aara looked through the webbed branches at the pregnant grey clouds shivering  cold. Jahaa-Aara loosened the scarf exposing her neck and chin. A light shower sprinkled on her face as she perched on a boulder nursing a sprained ankle. 

Looking around at the familiar forestation, she recongised the place; it was here she first met Rohail Saab when he fell off his horse. She smiled recalling his grumpy mood, his angry countenance. He didn't hesitate and threw his heavy arm over her shoulder. Jahaan-Aara closed her eyes recalling the dusty smokey smell like it happened yesterday. Never would she have believed that she could love a man as deeply as she hated him. The drinking. Her eyes shot open in thought. Had he stopped drinking? She couldn't remember the last time she saw him drinking or the stench of metallic smell oozing from him.

Today, returning from Muzzafrabad, his mood was jovial. She liked him like that. Happiness suited him, it shed the wrinkles from his forehead and made him look handsome. At first he wanted her to remove her hijab, to cast aside the oppression, but over time he respected her attire and her choice. In fact, he gifted her a exceptional abbaya that she laid eyes on. He'd accepted her. She wished she never laid her eyes on him, she'd never come here and fallen so deeply in love with him like she was drowning. It was time to leave Thrornager Haveli and take the memories with her; memories of falling in love with her mysterious master.

To the left she heard snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves. She picked up a stone and pointed at the direction.

"Who is it?" She called out in fear.

Behind the trees emerged a silhouette. He was dressed in riding boots, smoky brown jacket and matching breeches. She earthed the stone and relaxed. Her heart sank.

"What are you doing here?"

Rohail Saab dropped the torch and whacked the branches aside. His hair damp from the light shower, he approached her.
"Did you think you would find your brother and disappear into the horizon?" He scoffed. "Now you're back lumbered with an oaf like me! Come." He held his hand out to her.

He seemed out of sorts. His damp hair flopped on his forehead, his jaw tight.

"I'm not going. I'm staying here." She dug her heels into the ground firm and fixed on the boulder.

"In the woods?" He looked up at the dark clouds and the cold cutting into him. "The storm is coming and wolves roam for fresh flesh." He stepped away. "Come or else I'll throw you over my shoulder and have my evil way with you." He teased turning his back on her ready to leave.