ZERLISH'S  POV

A few days have passed since my work was done. It's weekend time, and I'm missing my home in Hyderabad.

I stood on the balcony, my fingers curled around a warm mug of hot chocolate. I was swaddled in one of his oversized sky-blue shirt which felt more like a dress on me and my white joggers.

The sky was bruising into a deep charcoal, heavy with the scent of impending rain. 

barish ane ki chances lag rhi h, and that tazi hawa sent goosebumps dancing down your arms.

Loving the vibe.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the trees, making them sway like garba.

Down in the colony, headlights cut through the twilight as cars pulled into driveways, but none of them turned toward our gate.

But Zaydaan is not back yet.

My hot chocolate grew cold. 

I sighed, retreating inside to set the empty mug on the table.

Then, the sharp honk of a car shattered the quiet.

I sprinted back to the balcony and saw he was back early today. I went downstairs and opened the door for him. Zaydaan froze, his hand mid-air, looking genuinely startled to see me acting as his welcoming committee.

Then, a slow, A cute smile spread across his face.

"Here you go" he handed me to a brown shopper.

I took it and I peeked inside.The sweet, yeasty scent of fresh cupcakes and donuts wafted up. I beamed, leaning in to give him a quick side-hug. 

"Shukriya."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to press a lingering, tender kiss on the crown of my head.

—---------------

It's weekend nazma tai off day.

"Should we order dinner from outside today?" he asked as we reached the bedroom.

My eyes lit up like jugnus in the dark. 

Zaydaan caught my expression in the mirror as he began unbuttoning his shirt, a low chuckle escaping him as he saw me giggling like a kid.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked, flopping onto the bed and alti-palti mar ke.

He had shed his shirt, his bare chest catching the light as he crouched down to my level. 

"wrong questions," he murmured.

"huh!" I raised a brow.

I felt the bed dip under his weight as he crawled closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator who knew the exit was already locked.

"Zaydaan..." I breathed, the giggle dying in my throat. His gaze dropped to my lips for half a second before returning to my eyes. 

"You should ask what I'm craving."

"And what are you craving?" I challenged.

"I was thinking of something sweet... like the way you taste and I'm craving the salt of your tears when you will cry under me."

His fingers traced the edge of my jaw, barely there, as if testing how little pressure it took to undo me. I turned my face into his touch before I could stop myself.

"That's unfair," I murmured. 

My heart thudded hard against my ribs, loud in the quiet room. Outside hunger had been the question.

"Let's start with those lips and see where my greed takes us." 

He leaned in, playfully bumping his nose against mine.

"Just kidding bacha! You order. Let me take a shower first." 

He ruffled my hair, leaving me to the serious business of Zomato. 

I ordered Domino's Pizza (pepper panner, margarita, farm house) 3 different types in regular with extra cheese bust. From Taco Bell I ordered one mex paneer rice bowl, burrito and 2 tacos. Everything is veg better to be safe than sorry if it's not halal.

.............

While he was washing up. 

I dragged out my duffel bag and began stuffing it with clothes, mostly his shirts and tees. I'd be wearing my abaya over everything anyway. And after I'm done I shoved it back to the wardrobe. 

He came back wearing black t-shirt and a towel slung precariously around his waist. I pulled a pair of grey trackpants from the drawer and tossed them at him. He wore them and then removed the wet towel and threw it on the bed.

"Grey trackpants se konsi obsession h apki?" he asked, leaning against the wardrobe door, as I was arranging the hangers in the same direction.

I didn't answer.

Instead, I closed the wardrobe door firmly, making him stumble back from his leaning position.

"Pehle jake towel jagah pe rakhe" I teased, pointing toward the balcony.

He obeyed, draping it over the balcony railing.

"nahi sudhroge na tum? Hawa chal rhi h towel urdh jyegi" I called out, exasperated. 

I marched out, snatched the towel, and headed for the dryer room myself. Some things you just have to do right.

.............

After dinner, we settled onto the sofa. Zaydaan rested his head in my lap, scrolling through his phone, while I mindlessly flipped through reels.

"Kal free ho?" I asked.

"Haan apke liye toh hamesha free he free hu"

"Or abhi?"

"Abhi bhi free hu" He turned his screen off, looking up at me with sudden curiosity.

"Chalo phir...."

"Kaha?"

"Surprise...." I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Go grab the duffel bag from the wardrobe and my abaya."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he didn't argue.

While he went upstairs, I slipped into the garage to his car collection.

My eyes landed on the beast: the red Corvette ZR1.

By the time he came down, I was spinning the keys on my index finger.

"Let's go... I already choose it," I said.

"ZR1..." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

I nodded firmly.

He let out a soft chuckle and opened the front door for me.

"After you, Ma'am."

In the garage,

He extended his hand for the key.

"I'm driving tonight" I declared.

"WOW...." he said, impressed.

He walked around and opened the driver's side door for me. As I slid in, I realized my mistake. I was still wearing my fluffy, oversized squirrel slippers.

"Zaydaan, I..." I looked down at my feet, embarrassed.

He chuckled again, shook his head, and dropped to his knees. He reached into the bag I'd packed, pulled out my sneakers, and gently slid them onto my feet, tying the laces with practiced ease.

"Shukriya, Mr. Husband," I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"Hayee," he joked, clutching his chest and dramatically dropping to the garage floor.

I couldn't stop laughing. He stood up, kissed my head, and tossed the bags into the trunk before handing me my hijab and niqab. I grabbed my hijab and niqab. I'm wearing loose clothes and staying in the car for now, so I'll just put my abaya on before, if I step out.

I breathed in the scent of the leather, recited the traveling dua Bismillah, Allahu Akbar, Alhamdulillah 3x and shifted into gear.

WHUUMMM... grrRRRrrr...

The engine roared like a thundercloud clearing its throat.

"Where re we going?" he asked

"Long drive"

"Seriously?"

I nodded.

The rain began as we were on our way to Hyderabad. The drive from Bengaluru to Hyderabad is a ten-hour marathon, and tonight, the roads were ours. Most people were hunkered down for "Netflix and chill" due to the weather, leaving the highway hauntingly empty than usual.

I watched the speedometer climb from 60 to 100.

"Slow down Zerlish...."

"I don't want to"

"Long drive pe aaye h zindagi khatm karne nahi"

I glanced at him, my expression softening.

"Don't worry. I would never let anything happen to you."

—------------

A few hours and several kilometers later, we drove on, leaving the rain behind, and came across a petrol pump. We stopped for fuel, and Zaydaan returned with a handful of snacks.

"Let me drive now... thak gyi hogi tum" he said.

"Mujhe maza arhi h" I said, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. "Can't I keep going?"

He sighed, defeated by the look.

"Fine. But tell me when you're tired."

"I know i know.... Yeah, yeah... you just enjoyed the cruise. I'll slow down if you want to catch some zzzzz's (Sleep)"

"I don't want to miss a single second of being with you."

"Ughhh! Stop being corny!"

"Kaha jarhe h hum log? Yeh toh batao? Navigation bhi nahi dala h tumne"

"Navigation dalti toh tumko pata lag jata na kaha ja rhe h"

"Point... but at least give me a hint? Please"

"My favourite comfort place"

"Okay.... Let's see what's you planned"

............

As the highway signs finally began to read HYDERABAD, his realization dawned.

"We're going to your house?"

"Yes," I smiled. "or kaha comfort hoga?"

"Bata deti toh mana thodi karta"

"I know but mujhe surprise bhi toh Dene tha"

—--------------------

After 7 hours of asphalt and adrenaline, we pulled up to the house where I was born.

My sanctuary.

"Uthro" i said

"Ghar toh ganda hoga abhi"

I pressed my thumb to the scanner, and the lock clicked open with a welcoming beep.

I flipped the switches, and one by one, the lights flickered to life, casting a warm, white glow across the foyer.

The house stood exactly as I had left it, though it felt like a lifetime had passed since I last turned these keys.

Everything was draped in ghostly white sheets.

I had meticulously covered the furniture before leaving for Iran, knowing my work there would take time.

I had planned for a long trip, but I never could have anticipated this. I hadn't expected that the delay wouldn't be because of work, but because of a whirlwind of fate.

I stood in the center of the living room, looking at the shrouded sofas and the quiet corners.

When I left this house, I was ZerlishMirza independent, solitary, and focused.

I never imagined that when I finally returned, I wouldn't be walking through the door alone. I never thought I'd be returning as a married woman, bringing a husband back to the place that had only ever known my solitude.

Zaydaan stood just behind me, his presence a solid, grounding weight in the middle of my memories. He looked around at the covered silhouettes of my life, his eyes soft as he took in the sanctuary I had built for myself.

"Help me remove these ghostly covers," I said, my voice echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged room.

Zaydaan nodded and moved with me.

Together, We moved from the sofas to the side tables, pulling back the white sheets that had kept my world in a deep sleep.

I gathered the dusty fabric into a large heap in the corner, a mountain of white in the dim light.

"I'll call someone to deep-clean the place tomorrow," I murmured, brushing a stray bit of dust off my hands. "But for tonight, let it be. I just want to be here."

We ascended the stairs to my bedroom, the wood familiar beneath my feet.

I pushed the door open and flipped the switch.

The room flooded with light, revealing the heart of my private world. Even here, the bed had been meticulously covered.

I moved to the bed, pulling away the protective layers to reveal the mattress beneath.

I went to the cupboard and pulled out a crisp, new bedsheet.

While Zaydaan reached for the fresh pillow covers, he changed them.

When the last wrinkle was smoothed away, we both collapsed onto the bed, lying flat on our backs.

I stared up at the ceiling, the familiar patterns of the crown molding looking back at me.

It was strange.

I had left this room as a girl heading for a work trip in Iran.

I had returned as a wife.

I looked sideways at Zaydaan, seeing him in my space on my bed, in my home.

He was the "something else" that had delayed my return, the beautiful complication I hadn't seen coming.

For now, the rest of the house could wait.

The dust in the hallway, the covered mirrors, the empty kitchen none of it mattered.

I was home, and after a long time, home didn't feel lonely.

------------------------

We were lying there, the silence of the room wrapping around us, when Zaydaan's gaze drifted toward every corner of the room.

He propped himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion.

"What is that pole doing in your room?" he asked, pointing toward the sleek, floor-to-ceiling metal fixture gleaming under the bedroom lights.

I didn't even look over; I knew exactly what he was staring at.

"For pole dance," I replied simply, my tone casual.

He froze, his eyes widening as he looked back at me.

"Koun karta hai pole dance? (Who does pole dance?)"

I turned my head on the pillow to face him, "Mai har hafte mujre walo ku dawatan detityun ki aao mujra kro mera dil bhelao bolke ." I deadpanned in my hydrabadi accent, giving him a sharp, playful glare.

"sach mein?"

"Sach-wach kuch nai, khwaab hai tumara."

"please batao na begum ji" he said kissing my cheeks.

"Me... your one and only biwi, Mrs Zaydaan Zerlish Mirza." a small, confident smirk playing on my lips.

Zaydaan let out a short, disbelieving laugh, his eyes searching mine for a punchline. He sat up fully now, a challenge dancing in his dark eyes. 

"Mein nahi manta (I don't believe it)." He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

I raised an eyebrow, the adrenaline from the long drive suddenly turning into a spark of mischief. "Oh? Toh naa mano?"

"Karke dikhao," he challenged me.

I sat up, my heart thumping a little faster against my ribs.

"Ab itti raat ku tumaku mai mujra krke smjhana kiya ?"

He nodded slowly, leaning back against the headboard to give himself a front-row seat.

I walked toward the pole, my bare feet silent on the wooden floor.... I reached out the cool metal familiar against my palm, my muscles tensing as I attempted to climb. I reached for a spin, intending to slide down in one fluid, graceful motion, but the friction was a disaster.

The stiff material of my joggers snagged against the metal, jerky and awkward. Instead of a seductive slide, I ended up stuck halfway, my descent a series of ungraceful bumps. It wasn't the flawless, sultry display I had envisioned; it was, quite frankly, a complete failure.

I came to a halt, leaning my forehead against the cold pole, my chest huffing slightly.

Stupid trackpants.

I glanced back at Zaydaan.

He was watching me with an amused, tilted head.

I bit my lip, thinking.

Should I change?

Then, a different kind of spark ignited in my mind. 

"You wait..." I said, pushing off the pole and pointing a warning finger at him. "Don't you dare to fall asleep."

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk spreading across his face as I turned and marched toward the bathroom suite. Before reaching the tiles, I stepped into my walk-in closet, the one filled with the daily pieces of my wear.., lingerire.

I scanned the hangers until my eyes landed on it: a black baby doll sheer net shirt. It was delicate, adorned with silver rhinestone strips that caught the light like tiny stars.

I shed the oversized blue shirt and the joggers. 

I stepped into a pair of lacy-edged nightsuit shorts and a black opaque lace bra that left little to the imagination under the sheer fabric of the top. The rhinestones strings shimmered against my skin, and the lace felt like a whisper of rebellion.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. 

Haseen toh mein hu kuch bhi kahooo.

-------
⚠️Mature content Ahead ⚠️

"Zaydaan, close your eyes. Don't open them until the music starts," I told him, pushing the bathroom door open.

"Okay, ma'am," he replied.

"Alexa played 'Katra Katra' from Alone."

I commanded her,

"And turn on only the warm lights," bracing myself to step back out.

{play the song for the vibe and the visual video of the dance is on my instagram (penguin_writzz) reel checked ✅}

Across the room, he sat on the edge of the bed one leg stretched out, the other folded, his phone on his hand..

The first haunting notes of the song began to bleed into the room, letting my hips sway deliberately as I walked to the pole.

[MUSIC]

His spine straightened. His thumb stilled mid-scroll, screen glowing forgotten as his gaze locked onto me with an intensity that felt almost intrusive, like he was afraid blinking might erase me

I approached the pole.

My fingertips ghosted over the metal, the chill bit briefly into my palm as I finally wrapped my hand around it, grounding myself.

Zaydaan leaned forward without realizing it, elbows bracing on his knees. His grip tightened on the phone, jaw setting as though his body was bracing for impact.

As the lyrics began.

"Iss tarah se khud se" [body wave]

I arched my back, a slow serpentine body wave (saap ki tarah) rippling through the air. My hair fanned outward.

On "aa mujhko jod tu," 

I traced a deliberate line with my index finger from my navel to my crown, waving my body back to the pole as the hair fell back over my shoulders. His grip on his phone tightened until his knuckles turned white, then, as if realizing he didn't want anything between his sightline and me, he let it thud onto the duvet, forgotten.

"Thoda bhi mujhme"  [pole walk]

I hold the pole, take a few slow steps, and walk in a circle around it, turning my body smoothly until I'm back where I started. 

"na mujhko chhod tu" [around the world]

I hook one leg  on the pole, and lean slightly away. I push off the floor, let my body turn around the pole, and with each turn, my hair spun with me trailing like a shadow halo, then I gently come back down to my feet.

The warm light brushed over my skin, highlighting the curves of my body with every movement. In between my eyes caught him watching me his jaw visibly tightened., and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Na yaad teri tujhko" [Freeman Knee Spin]

I abandoned the floor gripping the pole and launched myself upward, hooked the polewith me both knees, my hands guide the turn, spinning around the pole, my hair whipped in a wide arc. 

A small, frantic muscle jumped in his cheek.  He let out a breath, a sharp, ragged exhale as if he'd been holding it since I stepped out of the closet.

"Na yaad mujhe hoon main" [baby snake front spin]

I stretched my leg out, holding the pole between my thighs, then closed and bent them. With one hand gripping the pole, I stepped out, and with my other loose hand, I reached forward, slicing through the air. I made a wide circle with that arm, came to the front, and spun as far as I could, letting my body flow with the spin motion until the next line of the song started.

I saw him shift on the bed, his eyes never leaving me, his hand reached to the side table. He picked up the water bottle, twisted the cap open, and took a slow sip. I watched his throat move as he swallowed, his jaw tightening slightly before he set the bottle back down. 

Even those small movements told me everything. He was trying to stay in control. And I spun again, letting my hair fly with me, knowing he was already struggling.

"Aa mujhko pehan le tu" [layout]

Stopping the spin, I stretched out my legs and one hand, leaning back into a deep arc, suspended in the air, balancing with my thighs while gripping the pole with the other hand. I extended my free arm, letting my body open fully as I spun, forming a long, straight, fluid line.

He shifted once, then grabbed the pillow and dragged it onto his lap. His fingers dug into it, gripping hard, like he was holding himself back with both hands. The muscles in his forearms tightened, his shoulders going rigid, breath turning slow and heavy.

I climbed down to the floor softly, toes pressing into the cool surface as I steadied myself. I felt his gaze when my shirt shifted again, when the material slid just enough to tease. My fingers trailed along the pole for a moment. 

"Aa, tujhko odh loon main."

Then I walked two or three steps away, beckoning Zydaan with a flick of my finger. He stirred on his bed and stood up, but I didn't wait for him to reach me. 

With a laugh, I dashed back to the pole, watching him lose his composure. 

"Katra katra main girun" [twinkerbell]

"Jism pe tere theharun"

Taking a deep breath, I leapt high, wrapping myself around the pole. I lifted my leg and swung it around, letting my body spin like I was untethered from the ground. The other leg bent,and My torso arched back, the edge of my shirt slipping from my shoulder. My hair fell like wisteria blossoms, cascading with the motion.

"Katra katra main girun" [chopper]

"Tujh mein hi kahin reh lun"

I spun through the Twinker Bell, my body still wrapped around the pole. Instead of coming down, I tucked one leg closer and shifted my grip slightly. 

Leaning back and letting my momentum carry me, I swung my body sideways, stretching out, and flowed directly like a fan spin, spinning smoothly around the pole without ever touching the floor.

He walked toward the pole and stopped a short distance away. 

"Did you enjoy watching me lose control?" he said at last roughened by restraint.

"You're the one who challenged me to show you my pole dance," I replied sliding down the pole leaning back against the pole, "Is that enough, or should I show you a few more moves I still have tucked away?" breathing a little faster, watching his reaction.

"I only meant to tease you a little," he whispered, his thumb brushing my lower lip, tugging it down just enough to expose its damp sheen. "I didn't expect you to claim all of my attention."

His gaze locked onto mine, unflinching. "Now you have it. Every bit of it. So tell me..." His voice dropped, promise and warning entwined.

"Are you ready for the impact? Because I'm done just watching the show."

A reckless heat flared in my gut.

I didn't pull away from his touch. Instead, I shifted my weight, bending my right knee and gripping the metal behind me to pull myself slightly higher, to flex my thighs and draw his eyes downward.

"When did I ever stop you, Zaydaan?" I asked, bending my right knee and gripping the metal, deliberately drawing his attention to the line of my thigh.

The song played behind us, blurred and distant.

He bent slightly and hooked an arm around my waist, hoisting me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing at all.

My view was suddenly dominated by his wide back and the steady way he walked as he carried me to the bed.

I barely had time to breathe before he tossed me onto it. I hit the mattress with a soft thud, the springs bouncing under my weight.

"Zaydaan..." I breathed, his name coming out as a fractured moan that I couldn't quite catch.

"What?" he rasped, hovering over me.

His eyes were dark, locked onto mine with an intensity that felt like it could leave a physical bruise.

I didn't answer with words.

I reached up, crossing my arms behind his neck and threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. I pulled him down, forced him to face the fire he'd started, until our noses were almost touching.

"Kneel."

"As you say, biwi," A dark smirk ghosted over his lips, but his gaze remained reverent.

He dropped to the floor, moving out of my sight as he settled between my legs.

I let out a soft, breathless laugh, feeling a rush of control amused by how easily the XY chromosome could be tamed.

The laughter died in my throat the moment I felt his lips.He started at the arch of my foot, his kiss searing, before his tongue traced the delicate bone of my ankle.

"Do—don't,"

I stammered, my cheeks flushing a deep, hot crimson. I tried to pull back, but the sensation was a delicious friction I wasn't ready to lose.

Zaydaan didn't listen.

He ignored my weak protest, his hands sliding up to grip my calves as he worked his way upward.

Every kiss was a claim, every touch a slow-burn torture.

When he reached the soft skin of my inner thighs, he stopped, his breath hot against me for a fraction of a second before he leaned in.

He didn't just kiss me there; he bit down softly, marking the pale skin of my thigh with a dark, blooming bruise a permanent reminder of exactly who I belonged to in this moment.

TO BE COUNTINUE.................