Meem se mohabbat OS : Humsafar part 4 - Sharaarat

Talha stepped into his room, fresh from the shower, dressed in a crisp white shirt and olive-green pants. He stood in front of the dressing mirror, meticulously buttoning his sleeves. Ayat sat cross-legged on the bed, her face resting in her hands, her lips slightly pouted as she waited impatiently for Talha to finish getting ready. Her eyes followed his every movement, her gaze lingering as she watched him. Beside her sat her packed suitcase, ready for her trip to her parents' home. Talha, however, was running late-an early morning meeting with US clients had thrown his schedule off track.

"Jaldi karey na, Mama Baba ke ghar jaana hai. Late ho raha hai." Ayat said, her tone impatient.

Talha's mind wandered back to a few weeks ago, when a sharp pang of hurt had pierced him as Ayat had referred to Suleman's house as her own. But today, hearing her call it "Mama Baba's house" filled him with a quiet, swelling joy. It was a subtle yet profound affirmation that Ayat now saw this place-their shared space-as her true home. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when the shift had occurred, but it had happened gradually, like the slow turning of seasons.

Perhaps it was the morning she had chosen to stay behind for him, even as Baba and Mohid left for a picnic. Or maybe it was the evening he had finally mustered the courage to apologize for breaking her heart, laying bare the reasons he had pushed her away. It could have been the night he returned from work to find his room transformed-the sofa gone, leaving only the bed and chairs. He had stared at Ayat, puzzled, but she had met his gaze silently, offering no explanation. Talha had simply shrugged and settled onto the bed, the unspoken understanding hanging between them.

Or perhaps the shift had happened when Ayat, after learning from Mohid that Talha loved waffles, decided to make them for him. She had accidentally used salt instead of sugar, but Talha had eaten every bite without complaint, praising her effort and not letting anyone else even taste it. It wasn't until Ayat tasted the leftover batter that she realized her mistake. When she confronted him, he had simply winked and said, "Aapkey haath se bana namkeen khana bhi meetha lagta hai mujhey."

Maybe the shift had solidified when Ayat declined the internship at Zahir's brother's company, choosing instead to accept Talha's offer to assist him with his critical projects. It wasn't a conventional internship, but it gave her a front-row seat to the inner workings of the industry. They would spend hours discussing projects, their conversations flowing effortlessly, and she would accompany him on site visits when necessary.

Or perhaps the change had crystallized the day he returned from his workout to find her still in the room, taking her sweet time to get ready instead of rushing out before he arrived. Or maybe it was the morning they shared the mirror, brushing their hair side by side, Ayat playfully nudging him aside, silently claiming that it was her room, her dressing table, and her husband's reflection in the mirror.

Talha was lost in these thoughts when Ayat's voice pulled him back to the present. "Kya soch rahe hai? Late ho raha hai, Mama Baba wait kar rahe honge." she said, her tone a mix of impatience and affection.

"Nikalte hain, bas paanch minute." he replied, his voice calm but his mind still lingering on the quiet moments that had brought them here.

"Aur breakfast?" Ayat asked, her brows furrowing slightly as she glanced at the clock.

"Woh toh aap apne Mama Baba ke yaha karengi na. Main office mein kar lunga." Talha replied.

Ayat left the room in a hurry, returning moments later with a plate in her hands. Talha, still adjusting his hair, looked at her and said, "Arey, abhi late ho raha hai. Main baad mein kar lunga breakfast."

"Rehne dey aap. Dekha hai mainey, aapke office mein koi time nahi rehta aapke paas." she retorted, her voice firm but her eyes soft with concern.

Talha, now focused on styling his hair, replied, "Time toh abhi bhi nahi hai."

Without a word, Ayat took the omelette from the plate, rolling it neatly before stepping closer to him. She extended her hand, offering him a bite. Talha looked at her, puzzled, his eyes flicking to the hairbrush in his hands as if to say, How am I supposed to eat right now? I'm busy.

Ayat avoided his gaze, her cheeks flushed with a faint blush, and said softly, "Kha ley .. jab Mohid late hota hai school ke liye, toh usko bhi aisey hi khilati hoon."

Talha's heart swelled at her words. His sweet, thoughtful wife was feeding him with her own hands, comparing him to their eight-year-old son. A giddy warmth spread through his chest, and for a moment, he felt like a boy again-cherished, cared for, and utterly disarmed. When was the last time he had felt this light, this unburdened? Hadn't he once believed he was too old, too hardened, to deserve such simple, profound happiness?

Talha leaned in, his eyes never leaving Ayat's face, even as his hands continued to methodically brush his hair. He took a bite of the omelette, his gaze steady on her. Sweet Lord, he thought, is this the marital bliss people talk about? The thought lingered, warm and comforting, as he chewed slowly, savoring not just the food but the moment itself.

Ayat kept her gaze averted, too shy to meet his eyes directly. She stole fleeting glances only when he took a bite, adjusting her hands subtly to make it easier for him. She could feel his eyes on her, unwavering, and it sent a flutter through her chest. This man, she thought, is going to be the end of me. Her heart raced, though she tried to maintain her composure, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the omelette.

Talha took another bite, the omelette nearly finished now. Only one small portion remained in her hands. Before she could decide whether to set it aside or adjust it for him, Talha leaned in again. This time, his lips grazed her hand as he took the last bite, his movements deliberately slow. He lingered for a moment, his lips brushing her fingers, and then, ever so lightly, he sucked at her fingertip before pulling away.

A jolt of electricity shot through Ayat, sending goosebumps cascading over her skin. She immediately pulled her hand back, her eyes widening as she looked at him, searching for an explanation. What exactly was this man doing? Her breath hitched, her cheeks burning now, not just from shyness but from the sheer audacity of his actions.

Talha, however, wore a teasing smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He acted as though nothing had happened, his expression the picture of innocence.

Ayat turned to leave, but Talha's hand caught hers, his fingers wrapping around her wrist with a gentle firmness that stopped her in her tracks. She turned back, her eyes meeting his, and saw the playful smile still dancing on his lips. "Aap Mohid ko sirf khana hi nahi khilati, uske baad goodbye kiss bhi toh deti hai." he said, his voice low and teasing, his eyes glinting with mischief. He wondered how she would react, knowing full well he was pushing his luck. But Talha couldn't help himself-he loved the effect he had on her, the way her nose turned a faint shade of pink, the subtle tremble in her posture that betrayed her composure.

Ayat shot him a quick glance, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She wasn't one to back down, especially not when he was teasing her. Oh, he's messing with the wrong person, she thought, her confidence surging like a wave. She stepped closer to him, closing the distance between them, her smile widening as she met his gaze head-on. "Bilkul" she said, her voice steady and laced with a playful challenge. The word hung in the air, a quiet declaration that she was more than ready to play his game-and perhaps even win it.

Talha's eyebrows rose in surprise, his teasing grin faltering, and the grip on her wrist loosened. He hadn't expected her to respond so boldly, so unflinchingly. But before he could react, Ayat stood on her toes, raising herself to his level, her face inches from his. Her breath was warm against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes locking onto his, and for a heartbeat, the room seemed to shrink around them. The air grew thick with unspoken words, charged with the electric tension of their shared game.

Talha felt the softness of her skin against his stubble-not her lips, but perhaps her cheek brushing his. The warmth of her breath moved slowly across his face, trailing toward his ear, her lips now almost grazing it. Talha froze, his playful demeanor dissolving into something far more intense. He had simply joked, never in his wildest dreams imagining that it would lead to this moment. His breath hitched, his face turning serious, his eyes darkening with a desire he hadn't anticipated. Her scent-a mix of lavender and something uniquely Ayat-lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace.

He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth radiating from Ayat, her nearness intoxicating. The playful teasing that had started this moment was now a distant memory. For a fleeting second, he forgot to breathe, forgot to think, lost in the sensation of her closeness. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the unspoken longing that had been building between them.

"Toh main Mohid ko goodbye kiss deney jaa rahi hoon, aap ready ho kar neeche aa jayein." Ayat whispered into his ear, her voice soft but laced with mischief. Then, with a soft laugh, she pulled back, her smile triumphant, her eyes sparkling with victory. She had turned the tables on him.

Talha stood there, stunned, his mind still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions she had stirred. He watched as she turned to leave, her laughter lingering in the air like a melody. What had happened exactly?

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A whirlwind of thoughts raced through Talha's mind, leaving him in a daze. He was still processing the intimate, teasing moment that had unfolded between him and Ayat just minutes ago. The memory of her warmth, her breath against his skin, and the playful yet charged exchange lingered in his thoughts, leaving him both flustered and exhilarated. But now, his attention was drawn to the elaborate goodbye scene unfolding before him-a spectacle so dramatic it was almost comical.

Talha was admittedly upset that Ayat was leaving for her parents' house. He would miss her dearly, and the thought of her absence already felt like a void waiting to be filled. Yet, before he could fully process his feelings, he found himself amused by the sheer melodrama of the situation. Just minutes ago, Ayat had been urging him to hurry, and now, more than twenty minutes later, the goodbye seemed to have no end in sight. Gosh, I love my life-and my wife, he thought, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

There was Ayat, hugging his father, her voice trembling as she explained his medicines in meticulous detail and offered advice on how to stay happy and busy in her absence. Beside her stood Mohid, clutching her dupatta like a lifeline, his small frame shadowing her every move. Ayat's face was flushed, her nose red, and her lips pouted as she wiped away tears. Talha couldn't help but marvel at her ability to turn even a simple goodbye into an emotional spectacle. She's going to drive me crazy with her little antics, he thought.

She turned to Mohid next, pulling him into a tight hug and launching into a long list of dos and don'ts. "Mohid, hum roz park mein milenge, aur subah-shaam video call karenge. Aur tum milne bhi aa jana mujhse, theek hai?" Ayat said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Yes, Rosh... come soon." Mohid replied, his voice quivering as he fought back tears.

"Ek kaam karo na, tum bhi chalo mere saath." Ayat said, still holding Mohid close, her tone half-pleading, half-teasing.

Before anyone else could respond, Talha interjected with a sarcastic remark, "Arey... ek toh aap khud ja rahi hai, upar se Mohid ko bhi letey jayengi. Toh main aur Baba kya karenge iss ghar mein? Hum bhi chalte hain saath mein."

Ayat shot him a look, her eyes narrowing playfully before she resumed her never-ending goodbye. Talha chuckled softly, shaking his head at her dramatics. Despite the chaos, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. This was his family-messy, emotional, and utterly perfect.

Abid, standing nearby, watched the scene unfold with a sweet smile. He felt a quiet happiness and satisfaction seeing how Talha and Ayat had begun to embrace their relationship. The bond between them, once fragile and uncertain, was now growing stronger.

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