At night
" Juuuuuu~ ", The spoon swooped through the air dramatically, like an aeroplane battling turbulence.
" Safiya mein khudse khaa sakta hu, aur mein bachcha nhi hu ki tum mere saath yun helicopter helicopter khel rahi ho.
", Zaviyar complained weakly, burning with fever, while a dwarf-sized lady hovered over him with alarming authority.
Yes-that dwarf-sized lady was his wife, currently treating him like her feverish grandson.
(Safiya, I can eat by myself. I'm not a child that you're playing helicopter-helicopter with me.)
She blew softly on the steaming soup, then glared at him until he opened his mouth which he did, reluctantly.
" Tantrums touh bachcho jese hee hain. ", she shrugged, shoving another spoonful toward him. He turned his face away, refusing, only for Safiya to narrow her eyes dangerously.
(Your tantrums are just like a child's.)
Zaviyar closed his eyes briefly, warmth spreading through him.
Not just from the soup but from the sight of the woman in the lemon yellow suit caring for him like he was five.
He had never known this kind of affection.
Butterflies erupted in his stomach. She truly was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He watched her rosy cheeks glow softly, her nose scrunch up adorably. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and bury himself into her warmth but for that, he needed to finish the soup she had lovingly prepared.
" Chup chap khana khatam karo varna mein... ", she warned again, wiping his lips gently with the corner of her dupatta.
His gaze flicked toward the door. Servants stood outside, watching with twinkling eyes. Embarrassment crept up his spine, he wasn't used to being seen this vulnerable.
( Finish your food quietly, or else I... )
" varna kya karogi? ", he mumbled. She paused, genuinely thinking this time.
( Or else what will you do?)
" Room mein pure din Weeknd ke songs lagaungi... "
(I'll play Weeknd songs in the room all day.)
" Mein dusre kamre mein chala jaunga... ", he grinned.
(I'll move to another room.)
" Mein tumhare saarein traditional kapde modern kapdo ke saath badal dungi... ", she shot back quickly, then added upon seeing his smug face,
" With red, orange, and other bright colours. "
(I'll replace all your traditional clothes with modern ones... with red, orange, and other bright colours.)
" Then I'll lock our room from the inside and roam around naked. You would like that now, wouldn't you? ", He leaned closer, his hair falling over his forehead in a way that made Safiya ache to reach out.
(Then I'll lock our room from inside and roam around naked. You'd like that, wouldn't you?)
" I- I..I'll go back home, and never return. ", she stammered, hopelessly distracted by his effortless, high-school jock look.
" Mein uthwa lunga... ", he said with a shrug that made her eyes widen.
(I'll kidnap you.)
" Tum mujhe kidnap karoge? ", she gasped, offended and appalled, though she refused to acknowledge how thrilling that idea secretly sounded. Being kidnapped by your husband wasn't exactly common, quite dark romance coded and she'd pay to read that book.
(You'll kidnap me?)
" Zaroorat pari touh beshak... ", Zaviyar smirked, thoroughly enjoying her scandalised expression.
(If the need arises-absolutely.)
" Nhi kar sakoge ", she clipped, waving him off dismissively, only to let out a startled squeak when his hand suddenly wrapped around hers, tugging her straight into his space. The abrupt pull stole the air from her lungs, her protest dying halfway as her back nearly brushed his chest.
( You won't be able to do it.)
" Aur mujhe rokega koun? Biwi ho meri...", her breath hitched when he murmured the words into the shell of her ear, his voice low, intimate and dangerous.
( And who's going to stop me? You're my wife.)
Heat rushed to her cheeks in a rosy bloom, her body betraying her faster than her mind could catch up. She was certain her kneecaps had given up entirely, dissolving into jelly and her heart? Well, that was already a hopeless, mushy mess pounding against her ribs.
" Mein saarein pringles chhupa dungi. ", she threatened, clutching at whatever confidence she could salvage, trying not to lean even an inch closer because if she did, she knew she'd lose the battle and end up sinking her teeth into his neck.
( I'll hide all the Pringles.)
Meanwhile, Zaviyar was silently cursing himself for pulling her in so close in the first place. Her warm breath brushed against his skin, igniting every nerve along the back of his neck, making the hair there stand on end. Bas decision. A very bad decision.
" Theek hain fir tum mera snack ban jaana... ", he countered smoothly, leaning in just enough to press a soft kiss on the side of her head, right near her ear.
( Fine then, you can become my snack.)
" Mein jaa rahi hu... ", she muttered, attempting to pull away, acutely aware that staying this close to her husband was a dangerous game, especially when the air between them was already thick with suffocating, unspoken tension that neither of them ever acknowledged out loud.
(I'm leaving.)
" Vapis meri baahon mein hee aana hain, isiliye ab jaane de raha hu. ", he winked, finally loosening his hold and letting her go. Safiya turned away just in time, muttering curses under her breath, mostly directed at him and partly at herself for reacting the way she did every single time.
(You're going to come back into my arms anyway, that's why I'm letting you go for now.)
" Zaviyar mera haath chhorein ", she protested, only then realizing she was still very much trapped, his fingers caging her wrist. Her lips folded into an unmistakable pout as she tried prying his grip loose with her other hand.
( Zaviyar, let go of my hand.)
" Chhurwa lou, Safiya... ", he replied lazily, leaning back against the headrest and tugging her along with him. The sudden movement sent her crashing sideways onto his chest, both her palms flattening instinctively against him. Beneath her hands, she could feel his taut muscles.
(Free yourself, Safiya.)
" Please... ", she whispered, finally looking up at him with wide, pleading doe eyes. Zaviyar swallowed hard. If there was one thing capable of undoing him completely, it was that look. One glance, and he melted faster than candle wax under flame.
He was just about to release her when a sudden growl cut through the moment, unmistakable in its source. His eyes sharpened instantly.
" Tumne khaana nhi khaya? "
She shook her head softly, red from embarrassment and looked away, knowing full well she'd been caught.
(You didn't eat?)
" Jaldi se Safiya ke liye khaana le aaye. ", he ordered calmly, already aware that the servants were lingering just outside.
(Quickly, bring food for Safiya.)
" Tumhe kese pta chala ki woh sab peeche chhupe hue hain? ", she asked, genuinely shocked as she spotted them hovering behind the door.
(How did you know they were hiding behind?)
" Tumhe pta nhi chalta, lekin Azamgarh ke kayi aakhein tumhare upar rehte hain.
Lekin mein chahta hu ki tumhe unn aakhon se chhupa ke rakhu, taki tum apni zindagi apne hisaab se jii sako.
", he said gently, cupping her hand and pressing a kiss to her temple.
And maybe-just maybe-for the first time, Safiya leaned in, allowing herself to savor the moment instead of running from it.
( You may not realize it, but many eyes in Azamgarh are always on you. I want to keep you hidden from them, so you can live life on your own terms.)
" Tum rest karo, mein khaa lungi Zaviyar. ", she said, stepping away from him despite herself.
(You rest, I'll eat.)
" Mein bas thora sa ghaayal hua, mar nhi gaya ki apni biwi ko bhuka rakhu. ", he shrugged, motioning for the plate to be set for her.
(I'm just slightly injured, not dead to mak my wife starve.)
" Marne ki baatein na kiya karein ", she scolded softly, drawing absent-minded circles on the back of his hand.
(Don't talk about dying.)
" Nhi karunga. Bas tum khana kha lou. ", he promised, handing her the plate himself.
(I won't. Just eat.)
Soon the room fell quiet again. The servants left and Zaviyar found himself wondering how someone could look this adorable in lemon yellow. The color made her glow her caramel-brown hair cascading over one shoulder, soft and effortless.
" Ab aap sou jaaye. ", She prepared the couch when he suddenly sat upright, panic flashing across his face.
( Now you should sleep.)
" Paani...", he suddenly called making her look at him with a tilt of her head.
( Water...)
" Ek glass paani dengi aap mujhe? ", She nodded, returning with water only for him to grab her hand again.
( Will you give me a glass of water?)
" Ah- uhm.. nahaye bina mujhe neend nhi aati. ", he said looking at her with an shy gaze.
( you know na, that I can't go to bed without bathing? )
" lekin dressing ko wet nhi hone deh sakte.
Aapko thore time ese hee rehna parega. ", Safiya mumbled while clutching her chest as she saw her husband staring at her with puppy eyes, his black orbs sparkling as he looked at her.
She couldn't help but awe at his innocent look.
One could call her whipped but he looked like a cute puppy.
( But you can't get the dressing wet. You have to stay like this for a while. )
" Or you can opt for the sponge bath like the doctor suggested. ",
" Ek kaam karti hu. I'll call a staff person... ", she reasoned but all of that was quickly out the window and into the trash when she saw his pinky finger hooked around her bracelet, holding her in place.
(I'll call a staff member...)
" Nhi.... ",
(No...)
" Mein dusro ke saamne be-libaaz nhi jaa sakta. Woh hamare usoolon ke khilaaf hain.", he quipped making her squint her eyes. She clearly remembered him roaming around shirtless after his gym sessions in the morning.
(I can't be undressed in front of others. It's against our principles)
" Yeh kounsa usul hain? Aur... mujhe yaad hain ki tum uss din sab bodyguards ke saamne nange punge ghoom rahe the..", He grimaced, completely outmatched by her sharp memory and maybe just a little terrified of it.
(What principle is this? And I remember you roaming around half-naked in front of the bodyguards that day.)
" Bas hain... ", he said using the same time as her.
(It just is)
" Touh koun arega? ", she asked tapping her foot against the floor.
(Then who will come?)
Zaviyar who by now had dropped more than enough hints that he very clearly wanted her to do it for him was left utterly shocked.
His mouth hung open as he stared at his wife, the same woman who usually possessed the wit of a fox.
It dawned on him, with painful clarity, that she was indeed brilliant in every sense except when it came to decoding romance.
In that department, Safiya was painfully, adorably clueless.
" Zaheer hain miya-biwi ko ek dusre ka khayal rakhna chahiye ", he said and his ears betrayed him by turning a deep, furious shade of red.
( Obviously, a husband and wife should take care of each other.)
Safiya, on the other hand, looked like someone had just dropped a ton of bricks on her head. His words slowly registered in her head.
" Biwi koun? ", she asked, blinking. Zaviyar mentally facepalmed so hard it should've echoed. All he wanted at that moment was to kiss the fuck out of her and show her who exactly but then again, knowing his wife, she'd probably label him a molester. And that was the last thing he needed right now.
( Wife who?)
" Tum Safiya... ", he snapped, exasperation dripping from every syllable.
(You, Safiya.)
She made an 'ooo' face before gasping in shock.
" Lekin mein kese-", she trailed off, eyes widening as realization began creeping in.
(But how will I-)
" Biwi hone ke haq se.... ", he finished, pointedly.
(By the right of being my wife...)
Safiya sucked in a breath, face heating up, before abruptly turning around.
Zaviyar watched as she disappeared into the washroom, only to return moments later carrying a small tub of water and a stack of soft wash towels.
She dipped one towel into the water, wrung it out carefully all while avoiding his gaze
" uhm... Shirt kholein... ", she instructed, voice barely above a whisper. He obeyed. One arm slipped out easily but the other gave him trouble, his jaw tightening as he struggled.
(Uh... open your shirt.)
" Wait wait mein help karti hu... ", Safiya rushed in, noticing him biting the inside of his cheek.
She hesitated for a split second before placing one hand on his shoulder and carefully freeing the fabric from his body.
Zaviyar could feel her nervousness through her touch, her palms slightly damp, movements cautious and slightly shivering.
(Wait, I'll help.)
" Hogaya... ", she whispered, relief washing over her.
She took the cloth and began wiping him down, starting at his neck and moving slowly along his back, right till the waistband of his pants.
She tried to be quick but her eyes betrayed her.
His muscles, his contours, the way his body reacted beneath her touch.
.. her husband truly was a piece of meat she desperately wanted to jump on.
She focused on his back longer than necessary especially his shoulders before dipping the cloth again.
This time, she wiped across his front, gliding over his defined chest and abdomen.
Safiya gulped when her hand neared the waistband of his pants, her gaze catching the hint of his v-line.
It did absolutely nothing to help the situation.
She finally stepped away, gathering the towels and water, convinced she was done.
But moments later, she returned this time with a packet of baby wipes.
She pulled a few out, moved closer and gently cupped his face with her right palm.
Slowly, carefully, she wiped his face, then the back of his ear.
In the process, she ended up straddling him on the bed, his legs naturally falling between hers.
Zaviyar swallowed hard. Her proximity was driving him insane. All he wanted was to cage her in his arms, pull her impossibly close, and kiss her- deeply and desperately so.
He stared at her mesmerized by her eyes, her lashes fluttering as her brown orbs drew him into an abyss.
His breath stopped momentarily, his heart thumped crazily as she lifted her gaze meeting his.
A rosy hue spread on her cheeks, making him star-gazed.
She looked alluring, almost ethereal like a goddess.
Safiya broke the gaze, shy at the sudden proximity. Once done cleaning his face she quickly moisturized it. Zaviyar closed his eyes feeling her hands caress his face, her breath fan against his face softly. He wanted to savour the moment, keep her close to him. If only he could pause time.
When Safiya finished, she climbed off him and turned to leave. That's when he shifted slightly and let out a sharp groan.
" Aaah~ "
" Dard horaha hain kya... ", she asked immediately, panic flooding her voice as she rushed back to him.
(Is it hurting?)
He nodded. Without thinking, Safiya bent down and gently blew air over his wound. She knew it wouldn't help but seeing him in pain made her chest ache. Acting purely on instinct, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the side near his bandaged area.
And before Safiya could even process what she'd done, Zaviyar's head hit the headboard with a dull thud and he passed out cold. His entire face had turned redder than a tomato.
Yes. The great Nawab had just fainted... from a kiss from his wife. Well, it was too close to his.... Uhm! Yes! That...
Safiya stared at him shocked, before she panicked thinking she had just killed the guy.
" Fuckk... Fuckkk... Wake up... Bro... Wake up... I'll become a widow... Omg omg .....", she panicked.
" Zaviyar Raza Khan wake up..... How could you just faint from a fucking kiss from your wife.
Itna zehreela hain kya meri kiss? ", Safiya screamed into his ear meanwhile her husband laid out on the bed, unmoving as he dreamt of paradise where his head was on his wife's lap while she gave him kisses all over his face.
Safiya then put of pure panick called Khwaish before confirming everything was alright. She narrated the whole story to him, leaving out the part where he fainted from her kiss.
" No more kisses for you... ", she whispered after placing a soft kiss on his temple.
______________________________________
Safiya now stood in front of a sheepishly smiling Zaviyar, who looked far too pleased with himself. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes, a pearly grin permanently etched across his face. It was morning and somehow, he'd turned even more shameless overnight.
According to Safiya's calculations, the kiss had caused a short circuit in his brain. He clearly remembered it and now he was completely obsessed. Zaviyar lounged comfortably in his boxers, grinning like a menace, while Safiya stood with her arms crossed, fuming.
" Why exactly do I have to help you wear your clothes? ", she demanded, crossing her arms tighter half to assert dominance, half to hide the fact that she'd forgotten to wear a bra.
" Because it hurts when I do it. ", Zaviyar replied with a grin. His messy hair fell over his forehead, making him look unfairly cute, nothing like his usual slicked-back self. Safiya rolled her eyes. Just hours ago, he'd walked to the washroom just fine.
" You just want me close to you, don't you? "
His grin widened. She had caught on.
" Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart. But i genuinely need your help. ", he said, leaning back against the pillows. Safiya felt herself growing agitated for too many reasons. His eyes, his flirting and the fact that his men would arrive any moment.
" I shouldn't have helped you the first time. And why is it always the wife who has to do stuff for her husband? What do you think, huh? ", she snapped, frustration spilling over as she lost track of what she was even angry about anymore.
" Just because I'm the woman, that doesn't mean I'll help you even wear your clothes.
"
She said it firmly, chin lifted in defiance as if setting a boundary she had clearly rehearsed in her head.
Zaviyar watched her with mild amusement, already aware that her resolve rarely lasted long around him.
" well if you want, I can help you wear your clothes too... ", Zaviyar said, scratching the back of his head. There was no flirtation in his intent, at least not consciously but Safiya's face turned a deep, unmistakable red anyway.
" Pehle khud ke kapde pehenne ke qabil banjao, samjhe. ", she snapped, grabbing his loose pants and kneeling just enough to help him slide them up to his knees. Her movements were brisk, annoyed, and entirely too intimate for her own liking.
(Fitst become capable of wearing your own clothes, understood?)
" Iss baar help kar rahi hu, aur nhi karungi. ", she muttered, gesturing for him to stand.
(I'm helping this time, I won't do it again.)
Once he did, she pulled the pants up properly before immediately stepping away, leaving him to deal with the zip himself. She returned moments later with a shirt in hand. After helping him slip into it, she began buttoning it up while very clearly pretending this was nothing more than a chore.
Zaviyar breathed in deeply, the soft floral scent of her washing over him in waves.
Her hair, messily clipped up like a bird's nest, only made her look cuter to him.
Acting on impulse, he leaned down and placed a light peck on her temple.
Safiya shrieked and stumbled back like she'd been electrocuted.
" Yeh kya tha... ", she asked, half frightened and half shocked, her hand instinctively flying to her temple.
( What was that?)
" Kya? ", he asked innocently, squinting at her like he had no idea what she was talking about.
( What?)
" Yeh? Jouh tumne abhi Kiya... ", she emphasized, pointing at the exact spot like she needed evidence.
( This? What you just did.)
" I...i- i was just removing lint from your hair.
.. ", he shrugged, far too casually. Safiya simply nodded, choosing not to argue.
Mostly because she didn't trust herself to speak without combusting.
She fetched a cream and gently smeared it across his face, massaging it in to hydrate his dry skin before combing his hair neatly into place.
" Thank you... ", he muttered quietly, watching her concentrate so hard on making him look presentable. In moments like these, it struck him just how considerate his wife truly was.
" 50000 pakdao... ", she said abruptly. Zaviyar stared at her, dumbfounded.
( Hand over 50000.)
" Free mein, main saas na lu aur tumhe lagta hain mein tumhari khidmat karungi free mein. ", she added with a dramatic flick of her hair. Zaviyar couldn't help but laugh internally at her theatrics. Amused, he opened the side drawer and pulled out his wallet.
(I don't even breathe for free, and you think I'll serve you for free?)
Instead of cash, he handed her his platinum debit card and said, " You're in-charge of my accounts from now on. "
Safiya smiled as she took his wallet, slid the card back inside carefully and replied, " I'll take good care of it. ", she said waving the wallet.
Before she could turn to leave, Zaviyar pulled her down onto his lap. She gasped as his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her flush against his chest.
" And what about this poor man who earns the money. Won't you take care of him? "
" I am already taking care of him. ", she said, deliberately turning her face away. She hated and loved his flirting in equal measure. Loved it because it stirred things inside her she didn't know how to control. Hated it because it turned her into a blushing mess, soft and pliable in his arms.
A sudden knock on the door startled them. Safiya immediately pushed him away, straightened herself and grabbed the book she'd kept aside before escaping to the balcony. Zaviyar groaned internally, he already missed the warmth of her in his arms.
'Just you wait. This time, I won't let you leave till we settle our score.'
______________________________________
?A few days later?
Safiya walked in later and thanked Shabana, who stood waiting with a towel.
She dried herself quickly and headed upstairs.
The moment she entered, she froze. Zaviyar was dozing off on the armchair, a file open on his lap, spectacles resting precariously on the bridge of his nose.
Her brows knit together when she noticed something else.
Beside him stood a food trolley... two plates, two bowls and several dishes laid out neatly.
Zaviyar always ate early and even when late, he never skipped his meals.
Yet here he was, waiting. For her. The realization softened her expression.
Only for her phone to ring and snap her back to reality.
She answered immediately, but it was too late. Zaviyar was already awake, watching her with mild curiosity. He gestured toward the bathroom, silently telling her to freshen up while he handled the plates.
" Yes, Azim. I want you to settle the meeting tomorrow.. ", she said sharply, irritation seeping through her voice.
"No, I don't care if he has time or not. He can't just call me and order me around. He hasn't even paid me for the last hearing-and expects me to tolerate his insolence? I want my payment by tomorrow. Then we'll talk.", She cut the call and tossed the phone aside.
" How much money do you get from him? ", Zaviyar asked, watching her remove her studs and loosen her hair from the rubber band.
" Around 6 to 8 lakhs... ", she shrugged casually.
" Aren't you new in this field? How are you getting such high end clients... ", he asked, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Not because he wanted to doubt her but because he knew how brutal the profession could be.
" Well, I guess my hard work and connections paid off good. "
" So you paid the way to success. ", His jab didn't faze her. Safiya turned to him slowly, eyes cold and sharp.
" Not really but i did take help from sources. ", she said, sitting opposite him calmly.
" But is it not wrong to the others. You getting ahead because you have connections? ", he asked, resting his chin in his palm, genuinely curious.
" Is it not unfair to others that you get born with a silver spoon and have 6 figures in your bank account and a job which is not even a job while others are born with a debt on their shoulders and are destined to work for you and your farms and lands to pay it off.
", Safiya asked softly, tilting her head, her words landing heavier than any accusation.
" As for that piece of shit, I will take my hard earned money.
I am no saint Zaviyar. This is who I am.
A lawyer who is doing her job and I deserve to be paid.
I don't care who wins the case, or if justice is served.
What matters to me is winning and getting my job done.
", Her words landed sharp and unforgiving, cutting through the room like glass.
Zaviyar watched her closely, and for the first time, he saw something shift, something dim.
The light in her eyes vanished so suddenly that it unsettled him.
He wondered if this was truly the same woman he shared his space with, because the Safiya before him looked devoid of mercy, almost mechanical as if emotions had been deliberately switched off to survive.
" Yeh tum kesi baatein kar rahi ho? You don't sound like yourself... ", he said quietly, concern threading his voice.
( What kind of things are you saying?)
" This is me, Zaviyar. And I live by this motto. ", she replied, deliberately averting her gaze. She knew that the choices she had made for herself weren't always wrong but for the first time, she found herself unable to meet his eyes, afraid of what he might see reflected back.
" I don't believe in the goodness of heart or in the world. Why should I when I never got it from the world? ", she continued, her voice finally cracking. Beneath the practiced indifference, pain and vulnerability seeped into het.
" Idhar betho aur meri baat dhyaan se suno. ", Zaviyar said gently, placing his hand over hers, his larger palm engulfing it completely. With a soft tug, he pulled her closer until she was seated beside him, grounded by his presence.
( Sit here and listen to me carefully.)
" Tum esi baat kar rahi ho, touh shayad iske peeche kuch kaaran honge kyuki yeh tum nhi ho.
Khair mujhe batane ki zaroorat nhi hai. Mein tumhe jitna jaanta hu, tum kisike saath bhi bura hote hue nhi dekh sakti.
Mujhe nhi lagta ki tum esi thi, lekin tumhara profession hee esa hain that with time lawyers realise the reality of their profession.
..", he spoke slowly, thoughtfully. His hand rose to the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair in a soothing rhythm that made her sigh without realizing it.
(If you're talking like this, then there must be reasons behind it because this isn't you.
You don't have to tell me. As much as I know you, you can't see anyone being treated unfairly.
I don't think you were always like this, but your profession is such that over time, lawyers begin to see its reality.)
" mein yeh nhi keh rha ki tum matlabi ho lekin tumhari iss berukhi ke peeche kuch kaaran hain. ", he added softly. Safiya found herself inching closer, unconsciously seeking comfort, wanting to be enveloped in his familiar musky, minty scent that made her feel oddly safe.
( I'm not saying you're selfish, but the re's a reason behind this coldness.)
" You are righg, but when people don't trust you just because you are a woman.
When you are underpaid, undermined and undervalued for the work you do, then you have to take the opportunities given to you and make them the steps to success.
So i did the same. I helped dad's colleagues.
Then I got an offer from an influential woman, though I knew she was the one who was wrong but i fought the case and she was saved.
I felt guilty so from that moment on i took cases i got which would not make me die in guilt. "
Her fingers twisted anxiously at the crease of her black formal pants as she spoke, every sentence carrying the weight of lived injustice.
" Why should I show any mercy when nobody has shown or done the same for me?
The girl who became a lawyer to serve justice died the day I learned that the man i had saved, was actually the one who had raped and murdered his own niece.
No doubt her own father had done something worse.
A hero is only a hero when the story is told in his point of view.
I stopped believing in the goodness of people and started taking cases which benefitted me, while trying to keep my morals intact.
I learnt that I must handle it with my brains rather than with my emotions. "
Zaviyar knew that words would fail here. Instead, he pulled her into a side hug, letting his warmth wrap around her protectively. Safiya stiffened for a moment then relaxed, her breathing evening out as calm settled over her. She felt safe.
" Just be happy and don't stress yourself out. ", he whispered, rubbing slow, comforting circles along her arms.
" Safiya... "
" Hmm..... "
" Tum kuch bhi kaho, mein jaanta hu ki tum hamesha sach ke liye ladti ho. Mein bas itna kehna chahta hu ki tum jouh bhi karo mein hamesha tumhare saath rahunga. ", His words broke something inside her.
(No matter what you say, I know you always fight for the truth. I just want you to know-whatever you do, I'll always stand by you.)
Tears slid down her cheek silently. All her life, people had corrected her, judged her, told her what was right and what wasn't. But this... this was different. Someone holding her, making her feel safe, trusting her decisions without questioning her integrity.
Safiya didn't even realize when she leaned into him completely, nuzzling closer until her cheek rested against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounded her, soothing wounds she never spoke of.
Wrapped in his arms, she whispered to herself.
" This feels like home... "