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...............
I returned home after two days away on a business trip. The rain was pouring heavily, each drop echoing my longing for her. The world outside was gray and drenched, but my heart was alive with the thought of her.
I've stopped calling it just a house or a villa. It's so much more now. It's a place that holds her laughter, her scent, and her warmth. Every time I step inside, I'm greeted by her radiant smile and tender embrace, the kind that chases away the exhaustion of the day and breathes life into my weary soul.
The thought of her waiting for me, her arms open like a sanctuary, made me quicken my pace. She has become the light in my darkness, the calm to my chaos. I've stopped working overtime I always make it a point to come home on time because every second away from her feels like an eternity.
She's my sunshine, the one who accepted me with all my flaws and imperfections, as if I were perfect in her eyes. The way she moves around me, so carefree and radiant, fills my heart with an overwhelming sense of peace and joy. Her laughter is the sweetest melody, and her presence is my safe haven.
She wasn't just someone I came home to she was home itself.
-----
As I stepped inside, a soft melody drifted down from upstairs, the sound of a guitar carrying with it an irresistible pull. Curiosity and perhaps a touch of longing guided my steps as I made my way up.
There she was, standing in the soft glow of the evening light, wearing my white oversized shirt that fell gracefully to her knees. Her straight, silky hair framed her face, cascading like a dark river over her shoulders. On her feet were those adorable bunny slippers she always wore, a detail that somehow made my heart ache with affection.
She held an electric red guitar in her hands, her fingers moving effortlessly across the strings as if the instrument were an extension of her soul. Her voice filled the room soft, raw, and utterly captivating. She was lost in the music, her eyes closed, swaying slightly to the rhythm.
In that moment, she wasn't just playing a song; she was painting my world with colors I didn't know existed. And as I stood there, mesmerized, I realized I could spend a lifetime watching her like this free, beautiful, and utterly, undeniably mine.
Yuhi Baras Baras,Kaali Ghata Barse, Hum Yaar Bheeg Jaaye Is
Chaahat Ki Baarish Mein, Teri Khuyli Khuli
Lato Ko Suljhaaun, Main Apni Ungliyon Se
Main To Ab Isi, Khwaayish Mein
Sardi Ki Raaton Mein, Hum Soye Rahe Ek Chaadar Mein
Hum Dono Tanha Ho Na, Koi Bhi Rahe Is Ghar Mein
I couldn't hold myself back as I watched her, completely lost in her own world, singing with her back to me, unaware of my presence. There was something so magnetic about her in that moment so effortlessly that resisting her was impossible.
Quietly, I walked over to her, the sound of her voice and the strum of the guitar filling the air between us.
Without a word, I slid my hands around her waist, feeling her sudden intake of breath as I pulled her close and gently turned her to face me. Her wide, surprised eyes met mine, and for a second, the song faltered on her lips.
But I picked up where she left off, continuing the lyrics softly against her ear.
Zara Zara Behekta Hain Mehekta Hain Aaj To Mera Tan Badan Main Pyaasa Hoon Mujhe Bhar Le Apni Baahon Mein
As I sang, I let my lips trail down her neck, pressing lingering kisses against her soft skin. My hands rested firmly on her waist, grounding us both in the moment, while I couldn't resist kissing the delicate curve of her beauty bone, her scent intoxicating me further.
Her guitar hung loosely between us now, forgotten, as the music shifted from the strings to the rhythm of our hearts.
{REB: aage kya hua uske liye book pardho yrr sab yahi bta du kya mein?}.
.
.
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I stepped out to take a call after putting her to sleep. The phone buzzed in my hand, and I answered on the second ring.
"Mr. Malik, we've finalized the details for the meeting tomorrow. Should I confirm your availability?" It was Asif, my assistant, his tone professional as always.
"Yes, confirm it. And prepare the reports; I want them on my desk first thing in the morning," I replied curtly.
Asif assured me he would, but as the call ended, I couldn't shake the lingering unease. This life a whirlwind of responsibilities and decisions was something I had mastered over the years. But now, with her in my life, everything felt... different.
I glanced back at the closed bedroom door, wondering if she was truly asleep or if she was still lost in her own thoughts, much like I was. Inaya. Her presence was a constant reminder of the circumstances that had bound us together, yet there was something about her that was beginning to chip away at the walls I'd built around myself.
Pushing off the wall, I decided to head to the study to clear my mind. Sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford tonight, not with everything swirling in my head.
As I settled into the leather chair and opened my laptop, a faint noise caught my attention. I turned my head toward the door, my brows furrowing. It was coming from the bedroom.
Curiosity piqued, I stood up and walked back to check on her. I saw her sitting on the floor, her back against the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face as she frantically searched through her bag. Her trembling hands moved with a sense of urgency, pulling out random items and tossing them aside.
"Inaya?" I called softly, my voice hesitant.
She froze for a moment, her hands stilling as if caught doing something she shouldn't. Slowly, she looked up at me, her tear-streaked face making my chest tighten in ways I couldn't explain.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, her voice cracking. But her red-rimmed eyes and the quiver in her tone betrayed her words.
I took a few steps closer, crouching down beside her.
"What are you looking for?" I asked gently, trying not to startle her.
She didn't reply. I hesitated for a moment before moving closer and resting my hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Don't touch me! Don't!" she snapped, jerking away from my touch. Her voice cracked as she glared at me, tears streaming down her face.
"Stay away!"
Her trembling hands continued rifling through her bag with a frantic urgency.
"Fuck, it's not here," she cursed under her breath, her frustration spilling out in every movement.
I stood there, frozen, unsure of how to approach her without making things worse. She abruptly got up, stormed to the bedside drawer, and yanked it open. She pulled out a small bottle, her hands shaking as she twisted the cap.
"Fuckkkk, it's empty!" she yelled, throwing the bottle across the room in anger.
It clattered against the wall and rolled to the floor, but she didn't even look at it.
"Inaya, stop," I said firmly, my voice calm but edged with concern.
I stepped closer again, but this time, she didn't stop me. She just stood there, staring at the scattered contents of her bag, her shoulders heaving with heavy breaths.
"Talk to me," I urged, my tone softening. "What's going on? What are you looking for?"
She turned to me, her eyes filled with a storm of emotions pain, anger, despair. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "You......"
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