Due to the continuous shivering of her legs, it was becoming harder and harder for her to walk. She was about to trip many times but she didn't want to embarrass herself infront others.
They reached at the step of stairs and she got nervous that she had to climb all these stairs with these weak legs. Yet she put up her best, tightly holding the railing and climbed upstairs while everyone else, which included that woman and two bodyguards climbed the stars with little to no efforts.
She was breathless as she stepped on the ground again. Her head was feeling light already with this minimal physical activity. Her face was getting hotter as if she had run a marathon.
The woman meanwhile inserted a code in a metallic door and it got opened as she followed her out of the basement area. She came across a room that looked more like a store and the door disappeared as soon as they were out. She followed that woman out of the store and some stairs again came infront her eyes.
She wanted to say that she did not have the energy to climb more but they were already a step ahead of her so she tried following her to the end as now from the ground floor they were on the first floor.
She wondered how huge and enormous this place was. She was aware that this wasn't Shehryaar's mansion rather the residence was located in the outskirts of a city, as appeared from the large windows and the traditional interior of the abode.
"We apologize madam. You just have to walk a little more. Your room is upstairs,"
She gulped and this time she felt the dryness of her parched throat. It felt somebody has deeply pierced needles in the inner wall of her throat and extracted all the saliva out of her mouth.
"I-I will f-follow you," Her response was subtle and meek as the woman ordered the guards that they can go now and stepped on the stairs while Sheharzaad followed her. Suddenly, her head began to feel dizzy. The sound of wild heartbeat magnified in her ears as the quivering of her legs intensified. Her hands around the railing tightened as she stopped in the middle of the staircase and held the railing with both her hands. Her limbs were weak so her hold on the railing wasn't tight either as she began to fall backwards without realizing given the sudden dizziness hitting her. She was quick to deduce that she was about to fall so she sat down on the stairs, holding her head tightly.
"I can't walk," She whispered to herself with half opened eyes. Her head was feeling too dizzy.
It was when a palm came infront her vision, the thumb of which cladded a ring. Her eyes slowly moved up only to get goosebumps rocking her body making her eyes erect open.
She immediately tried standing up but she fell again yet before the ground could hit her, she found herself in his strong arms, holding her as they both stared in each other's eyes.
It felt like a crime to even stare directly in his eyes so she looked down when he slid his other hand underneath her knees and held her bridal style.
He wasn't in his usual jeans and shirt rather he was cladding a white shalwar-kameez and a brown shawl laid on his shoulders. He looked subtle, soft, an angel. Like he had never laid his hand on anyone. But Sheharzaad knew better.
Better than anyone.
In order not to fall down, she fisted the shirt around his chest tightly like an infant would roll his tiny digits around an elder's finger. As he carried her upstairs, she found herself going breathless given their close proximity. Her rapid short breaths falling on his neck as her eyes were down, staring at her hand that had tightly fisted his shirt.
They atlast reached the room when he put her down on her feet. Her position dwindled when he held her arm to support her.
He turned her head towards him, looking at her face.
"I need an answer next time when I ask you," He told as they both entered the room.
...
The anxiety.
The depression.
And the fear to face him again which was mounting within her heart was suppressed as her hands were now rose to make dua'a after her namaz.
After taking a long shower, she had wrapped around a white shawl around her to offer her prayer and now came the time to ask her Lord.
There were so many emotions within her. Her tongue had ceased to put up any words on her lips. She was tongue-tied in that moment.
Only her throat hiccupped as a tear fell down her eye falling on her palms.
She hadn't faced a situation like this before ever. She remembered the previous times didn't matter how hard the circumstances would become, she would always have something to say, something to speak, to talk to her Allah.
But this time.... it was so different.
There were no words.
Nothing.
Just pure tears.
Even when she tried moving her lips, no word would come out just small tears. And she get along with the flow. She didn't say anything. She didn't let a word out of her mouth. Only her eyes let out the tears.
Ceaseless tears.
Small sniffles.
Hiccups...
"My dignity," she atlast uttered the first word, "m-m-my respect....I don't want to ruin it," she tried to speak when her small hiccups had ceased down.
(My dignity, don't let anyone ruin it. I can't accept someone touching me without my permission. I just ask for one thing today-I'm offering prayers after a long time, just liken to my this prayer- I don't want to be anyone's- I don't want to sign that contract. I don't have the power. In that prison, I used to wish to offer prayers, wish desperately oh Allah. I don't know how much time I have spent in that jail. Or maybe I have to go back in there again. I can't do this anymore. I can't. Please save me from that contract. But what should I do? What should I do? What should I do? I just don't want to sign that contract. Save me from it. What should I do...)
She prayed with her heart and soul.
And then she began to cry helplessly as the thought of that contract again hit her. She didn't realize when she had put her head on the prayer mat and when the tears had stopped flowing and when she had dozed off.
Unaware of that someone listening to her pleads.
......
She hadn't realized when he had entered the room, while she was crying in her prayer. She was totally engaged that she didn't realize it. Not even when he sat on a chair behind her. She has been slept, her head lying against the prayer matt.
She was looking so pure. So exotic. So beautiful.
Similar to an enchantress.
Moonlight falling directly on her face.
Rather it wasn't the moonlight, it was something else that was illuminating her face so much that he wanted to touch her, stroke her cheeks.
He got up, moved towards her, squatted down, all the while his eyes solely on her face. His finger moved and grazed against her cheek.
Something was still baffling him.
A question was raising in his mind, continuously and he was trying to push it at the back.
Despite going for weeks and months of brain conditioning, she still had that little spirit left in her that was instigating her not to sign the contract.
A no to him was still a consideration in her mind.
The no that he so wanted to evacuate.
The remnants still stood there. Proudly so.
Or maybe this was her.
The actual her.
That she really didn't like other males approaching her....
Then why did not she deny Hannan?
She did push him away.
At first place, she did let him get close to her.
Maybe it was always Hannan who tried exploiting her?
Or maybe she was as openly involved with him as much as he was with her.
Maybe not...
She was wearing your ring but still dare to outrun you.
Maybe she never wanted that.
The list of those assumption ran in his mind. And he was baffled again with himself.
Was that a soft spot in him for her?
That a part of him was still not considering her the culprit entirely. A part of him was still trying to defend her.
It was never the case with her. In her case, he directly announced the verdict. Not listening to her pleads, begging or anything. Back then, no soft corner in him had awaken. It was just plain loathe and disgust for her.
Then why was it arising for the woman lying infront her?
Just why....
Slipping his hands gently underneath her neck and her knees, he pulled her up and carried her bridal style to the bed before cocooning her in the comforter. Her wet locks appearing from under her scarf.
He could feel emotions stirring in him as his gaze lingered on her sleeping form.
He liked his inhumane and cold self more. When he cared less about anything but his obsession. As he let the coldness take over his eyes again. The grey hue darkened as his expressions went steely.
He bent down to place a kiss on her forehead before caressing his thumb there, "sleep well, little lady,"
He had been so far from her for a long time. And now, he couldn't contain himself for touching her, exploiting her sexually for his desires. As now came the right time to claim her truly in all senses.
When she considered himself nothing but a possession of his.