4
Safiya stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, her body wrapped securely in a towel. She had made sure to cover all the cameras beforehand.
She wasn't taking any chance. She could have removed the cameras but there was no fun in that. She wanted him to be frustrated at working so hard to set up the camera only for hai view to be blocked just by a coat of red nail paint.
Now she could finally relax without the constant fear of him randomly watching her and catching her in one of her unhinged singing sessions.
" Alexa, play church by chase atlantic... ", As the music filled the room, she instantly started grooving, swaying lightly to the beat, humming along without a care in the world.
Just then, a knock echoed on her door.
She paused, quickly turning off the music.
" Koun hain? ", she called out, walking towards the door.
(Who is it?)
Before she could even open it, her mother's voice came from the other side.
" Safiya, Zaviyar ki call receive karo beta. Woh aadhe ghante se tumhe missed calls maar raha hain. " , Safiya closed her eyes for a second, shaking her head slightly.
(Safiya, receive Zaviyar's call dear. He has been calling you non-stop for the past half hour.)
'This man...'
A small, helpless smile tugged at her lips. He really would go crazy if she didn't pick up his calls.
" Call kab ki unhone ", she mumbled under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, her brows knitting slightly as she reached for her phone.
The faint glow of the screen reflected in her sleepy eyes as she unlocked it, only for her expression to shift into surprise.
A dozen missed calls from him stared back at her, each one tightening something inside her chest.
Before she could even process it properly, the screen lit up again. His name flashed, followed by an incoming video call. Without thinking twice, almost instinctively, she tapped on accept.
" Hello... ", she said softly, adjusting her grip on the phone and straightening it so the camera wouldn't tilt awkwardly. Her voice carried a hint of hesitation, mixed with concern that had already begun to settle in.
" Tabiyat kesi hain tumhari... ", she asked, her eyes scanning his face carefully. He looked dull, pale almost, like the exhaustion hadn't left him. There was a heaviness in his features that made her heart clench.
(How is your health now?)
" Kuch bol kyu nhi rahe? ", she frowned slightly, her thumb tapping lightly against the screen as doubt crept in.
For a second she wondered if the call had frozen, if her phone had hanged again at the worst possible moment.
She watched as his face turned bright red, his eyes closing and opening as his breath got stuck.
(Why aren't you saying anything?)
'ya allah stroke voke touh nhi aaraha isse.'
( Oh god, is he getting a stroke or something ... )
" Kuch bolo bhi... ", she insisted, her tone soft but edged with impatience now.
(Say something at least.)
On the other hand, he remained silent. Completely still, unmoving as his eyes remained glued on the screen.
His eyes slowly closed, and a deep heavy sigh escaped him.
A dangerous, glint swiped in his orbs, one which he was barely holding onto.
Her gaze flickered away for a brief moment when her iPad screen suddenly lit up beside her.
" Ahaan aur Adira ki video call aarahi hain. Tumhe baat nhi karni touh mein unki call uthalungi... ", she said casually, though her attention was still divided between both screens. The moment the words left her lips, his reaction was instant.
(Ahaan and Adira are video calling. If you don't want to talk then I'll pick up their call.)
" I fucking dare you to do that... ", She flinched slightly, her fingers tightening around her phone as his voice cut through the silence, sharp and laced with sudden anger. It caught her off guard, the shift so abrupt that it made her sit up straighter.
" Usme dare dene ki kya baat hain, abhi karti hu- ", she rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off as she moved to switch the call.
(What's there to dare about, I'll do it right now.)
But before she could, his voice stopped her again.
" Wear your clothes first... ", he rasped. There was anger there, yes but underneath it something else lingered. Something restrained, like he was holding onto the last thread of his patience.
" Pehni touh hain men- ", she started, confusion flashing across her face.
(I am wearing them-)
And then her words died mid sentence.
Her eyes widened as realization hit her. Slowly, she glanced down at herself, taking in what she was actually wearing. The loose fabric, the careless way it draped, the fact that she had clearly not thought this through before answering a video call.
Heat rushed to her face instantly.
" Ahhhhhhhhhh- besharam, tharki aadmi tabse dekh rahe ho. Bta nhi sakte kya ki kapde nhi pehne mene... ", she burst out, her voice a mix of embarrassment and frustration as she quickly adjusted herself.
(Shameless, perverted man, you've been watching all this time. Couldn't you tell me that I wasn't properly dressed?)
On the other side, Zaviyar bit the inside of his cheek, his jaw tightening slightly as he tried to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. His eyes flickered with something far more amused than he let on, but when he finally spoke, his voice remained controlled.
" Ab pata chala... ya aur explain karu? ", he murmured, his gaze not leaving the screen.
(Now you understand... or should I explain more?)
And the way his voice dropped on the last word made her forget, for a second, whether she was angry at hin or something else entirely.
"koi baat nhi... mein hee touh tha... ", Safiya was out of the frame of the camera, the lens now awkwardly angled toward the ceiling as if it had been abandoned mid-thought.
For a second there was only silence and then suddenly her face popped into view, just her head peeking in with mischief dancing in her eyes as she shamelessly showed the middle finger.
[It's okay... it was me anyway...]
" Sahi kiya mene saare cameras peh nail polish laga ke. ", she said with a small victorious grin before disappearing again, leaving Zaviyar staring at an empty screen.
[Good that I covered all the cameras with nail polish.]
" ab kya kar Rahi ho... ", he asked casually, leaning back, though his eyes remained fixed on the screen as if she might reappear any second.
[What are you doing now?]
" Wearing clothes obviously...", she peeked again, her tone laced with mock innocence before vanishing just as quickly.
" Stop putting images into my head..", he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face, trying to steady himself.
Ever since she had gone back to her home, his thoughts had refused to obey him.
It was like his mind had entered a dangerous phase where every thought, no matter how irrelevant, somehow circled back to her. To his wife.
" Pehen liye kapde? ", he asked after a few minutrs, unable to resist, wanting to see her face again, even if just for a second.
[Are you dressed now?]
Meanwhile, Safiya stood in front of her bed, eyes scanning the heap of clothes scattered across it. Her fingers paused when they brushed against a set of outfits Adira had gifted her long ago.
Clothes she had always found too bold, too revealing, too much for her comfort. But today was different. Today she was alone. And more importantly, she had a very entertaining audience. A slow smile curved her lips, mischief swirling in her orbs.
" Uhhhh help me choose an outfit... ", she called out catching his attenttion, her tone deliberately sweet as she glanced toward the camera. Zaviyar nodded instantly, his lips curling into a smike, completely unaware of the storm he had just willingly walked into.
Safiya adjusted the camera properly this time, making sure it captured her full frame before she took a few steps back.
The moment she stepped into view wearing the first dress, Zaviyar's breath hitched. His mouth fell slightly open, his gaze locking onto her like he had forgotten how to blink.
The red strapless dress clung to her like it had been made for her alone.
It ended at mid-thigh, exposing just enough to make it dangerous.
The fabric hugged every curve, accentuating her waist and drawing attention to her figure in a way that made it impossible to look away.
His eyes darkened, and he slowly closed them for a second, wetting his lips as if trying to ground himself.
His wife looked like temptation itself. Like sin wrapped in elegance. Like something sacred and forbidden all at once. She was looking so beautiful that he wanted to pull her into his arms, and devour her lips and maybe more but she was far away.
"Love, that dress is gorgeous but I don't think I'm ready to let the world look at what's mine.", he rasped softly but there was a clear warning beneath the calmness of his voice.
" So you want me to wear it for you? ", she asked, tilting her head slightly, already knowing the answer.
For a moment she felt like his pupils had dilated, as if he was in a daze whole staring at her. She bit her bottom lip, before twirling around giving him another glance.