Beautiful Chaos - Link to Thread II (Index) - Page 24

and who is Tamaruuu? I am Fluffy. The Fluffed 😆

Anytime now...

A/N: Flashbacks/ Memories in blue text

"F**k! Who the hell could that be?" Sanam cursed, and stifled the urge to berate herself for uttering a word she'd just claimed to not use.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first unbelievable thing that happened today..." she muttered under her breath as she stared at the door; the pounding of her heart ringing in her ears.

She was rooted to the spot as she stared. She couldn't trust that it wouldn't be him. And nothing scared her more right now.

But the incessant banging wouldn't stop and Sanam didn't want to get into trouble with Mrs Zaki next door again after last weekend. Simran had insisted on throwing a small party at Sanam's flat.

"Small, my a$$" Sanam thought as she stared through the door, willing it to stay shut forever.

Mrs Zaki had had endless complaints about the noise levels the next morning, and threatened to have Sanam evicted if there was "any more trouble like last night".

Sanam knew the real reason was that the old hag disapproved of a young woman of marriageable age living alone in the city.

If only she knew...

Taking a deep breath, because she really couldn't afford to mess with her neighbour and get evicted, Sanam marched to the door, and swung it open with her eyes shut.

"What the f**k is wrong with you, Sanam? I've been knocking for days!" Simran yelled exaggeratedly, and walked right past her and into the small flat. Sanam stood there, still looking out the door. "And, who the f**k opens their door with their eyes closed?" Simran was still ranting and raving.

Sanam turned around. "Keep it down, Sim! Mrs Zaki will really complain this time" Sanam whispered urgently, as Simran threw her bag down on the floor, before turning to her with sympathetic eyes.

"So, that was him, huh?" Simran asked.

Sanam nodded. "Sim, I really don't want to talk about it, ok? I just need... some time to myself. Do you mind?" Sanam said, holding the door open again - a clear gesture for her to just leave.

"Of course. You take all the time you need. I just wanted to make sure you were ok" Simran said as she walked to Sanam by the door. She stepped out and Sanam thanked her.

"But hey, I just... you should've seen him, babe. Something isn't adding up here... maybe you should go-"

"Sim, please! You've been watching that detective show again, haven't you? Whatever happened... There's nothing to add up and I said I don't want to talk about it, so please... just go" Sanam choked at the end.

"Sorry" Simran squeezed Sanam's hand before walking off.

**********

Sanam could barely hold herself together. She hadn't seen Aahil in over a year, and she'd done everything in her power to not think of him at all after that day. But seeing him today... had shot all chance of that to hell.

She inhaled deeply and straightened up.

"No. Not today. Not ever. I don't want to think of him. I won't think of him" she said loudly, like a positive affirmation to herself. Humming a tune completely off-key, Sanam started getting ready to take a shower.

Maybe that would wash away this feeling... that thumping in her chest that hadn't slowed since she'd set eyes on him earlier; her thoughts which could not be reigned in no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on only what she was doing.

She tried saying out loud whatever she did to stop the thoughts, the feelings... the memories. "Okay, reaching for shampoo... washing hair... massaging scalp..."

Sanam groaned in frustration as a memory of Aahil and her in the bathtub crashed unwelcome into her mind. She closed her eyes and let the streams of steaming water wash away the shampoo suds, as she remembered how gently Aahil had washed her hair that day.

"I want to do it. Please, Sanam? I don't know how to explain... but the feeling I get from taking care of you, I can't really describe how it good it makes me feel"

Sanam had nearly fallen asleep in the tub against his chest that day, because he had kept up the scalp massage for so long.

"Aaarrrggghhh" she screamed frustratedly, pulling at her wet hair. She just wanted to not think of him.

It hurt so damn much.

How could he have claimed to love her so much and then let her leave without a trace? No, he didn't deserve her thoughts... even the bad ones.

But perhaps... if she faced the memories now, then...? Sanam could feel her resolve crumbling slowly. She could feel herself succumbing to the need to think of him; to remember him, the way he used to be.

Her husband; the man she loved.

Perhaps she even still loved him, but that was a no go zone. It was still too raw, and it hurt too much to think of the many, many times they'd said the L word to each other, or the countless other times they'd shown each just how much.

In just a year, Sanam had become a complete robot. She went about her daily tasks and she was living, but no longer lived. Her walls went up and she was guarded. Yes, she'd divulged some details here and there to a very select few people.

But no one knew everything. Because, she didn't even know.

She still didn't know why Aahil never came back.

Today would have to be that day. One month to graduation, and she could rebuild her life on her own terms. But to do that, she'd have to face what she'd been running from all this time.

Face it, slap it around a little maybe, and then... forget.

**********

Sanam threw her gown on after her shower. It was sweltering hot, and one of the great things about living by herself, meant that she didn't need to dress up for anyone.

She walked around the apartment to think about what she was going to do. "Need coffee..." she said to herself. She knew she was looking for reasons to put off what she had already decided to do, but she couldn't help it.

Delving into that time, the happiest of her life, would only make her feel worse about her present situation. But, in order to truly move forward... she felt like she did need to do this.

So finally after making a coffee, cleaning the kitchen of imaginary mess, sweeping up imaginary dust, cooking up some comforting kheer for the second time that day, and making yet another cup of coffee, Sanam finally got back into her room and placed the foot stool in front of her cupboard.

She hadn't dared to venture to that corner of this cupboard ever since she'd moved into the flat. That day, she walked around and around the flat with the box in her hand as she fluctuated between desperately wanting to throw it away, or daring to keep it.

Eventually, she hadn't had the heart to just throw it away, as if it had meant nothing. Although painful... it was proof of something that was once there.

Sanam had never been the sentimental type, but this... what was in that box held more than just sentiment. And in the end, she decided to keep it, but also to hide it away so that she'd never be tempted to open it and look inside.

She could barely believe, as she stepped upon the foot stool, that today, she was actively going into her cupboard to look for the very thing she wished to never stumble upon, even by freak accident.

Slowly, carefully, she stepped back down to ground and sat on her bed, holding the box in her hand as if it were a precious gem. She shook her head at herself. The fact that she held it so lovingly betrayed a lot of what she had said and tried to feel in the past year that she had been alone.

When she'd gathered herself at her Badi Ammi's place a few days after she'd been thrown out of the Ibrahim mansion, she'd called Lateef up and asked for just one thing.

When Lateef started saying how much they all missed her, "Especially Aah..."

Sanam had told him clearly and sternly that she didn't want to hear a thing about anyone in that house, and she didn't want them to know a thing about her.

All she wanted was her antique wooden jewellery box that Aahil had gifted her on their first wedding anniversary. Lateef had been about to start up about Aahil again, but she'd shut him up.

She also made it clear that she wanted nothing that was inside the box. None of the jewellery she'd been gifted; not even her wedding ring that she hadn't put on that day, because she had planned to marinate chicken that morning for their dinner that night.

Just the box, as it was... empty. When he'd asked her what he'd tell Aahil about it being missing, Sanam snapped that she didn't care, and that Lateef had free reign to make up something.

She knew she could trust Lateef to do as she'd asked, but even so, she didn't trust him enough to tell him where she was. He would tell Aahil... She didn't even think he cared, but she wouldn't put the ball in his court either.

She'd asked him to leave the box at a local coffee shop where Badi Ammi's sweet neighbour worked, and she'd brought it back for Sanam that same evening.

Badi Ammi had looked on disapprovingly as Sanam teared at the very sight of the box, but she didn't say anything, and Sanam had appreciated that. If anyone knew what she had gone through in that time just after she'd left the Ibrahim mansion, then it was her Badi Ammi.

It was also something else that she resented Aahil for - for putting her Badi Ammi's health at risk because she had been so worried about Sanam. Sanam looked skywards for a minute and thanked God that Badi Ammi was doing much better these days.

Finally sitting down on her bed and crossing her legs under her, she ran a light finger over the antique wooden box lovingly.

So much for not taking any memories with her, or keeping anything from that home or that time.

Aahil had gifted her many things after they'd finally confessed to each other that their relationship was not based on hate, as the both of them had initially believed.

But this little jewellery box was the one thing she treasured most. It was the most personal gift he'd given her, and she'd loved it from the moment she'd set eyes on it, mostly because of the care and thoughtfulness that went into the gift.

God knows where he found it... but he'd had it cleaned up and re-carved slightly to include their initials on the front. Sanam touched the entwined A and S and tears stung her eyes.

"Always entwined..." he'd murmured into her as she hugged him to thank him for her gift.

"I love you, Aahil"

"I love you more... more than you know"

She blinked a few times.

She hadn't even opened the box yet, and her reaction was scaring her. So much so, that she contemplated putting it away and never opening it up again.

But no. She had to do this.

Today.

She quickly opened up the box and turned it upside down, allowing the contents to tumble out in front of her on the bed. She closed her eyes and slapped a hand on her forehead. There were dozens of pictures of her and Aahil.

She scattered them around slowly and remembered how she'd got all of them.

"Oh God, what do I do now...?" Sanam thought to herself as she walked the street alone with nothing but the clothes on her back and her mobile in hand. She knew she'd have to call Badi Ammi and go there... and she was trying to put it off for as long as possible but it was getting late, and it was getting dark.

She stopped and pulled out her phone, but when she switched it on, her breath stuck in her throat as she caught sight of the screensaver. A picture of Aahil smiling at something on his phone, that she'd taken without him knowing.

She'd found herself doing that often, and she had particularly loved this one, so she'd made it her screensaver just that morning.

As if in a daze, she went through to her phone gallery and a lump formed in her throat as she scrolled through photo after photo of Aahil that she'd taken. Some were funny, some were cute, and some were downright hot. She hadn't even realised when the tears came, and that she was looking at the photos through very blurry eyes.

Eventually, Sanam had just sat down on the pavement and cried her heart out... for the very many photos that would never be taken in future.

A Few Days Later:

"Sanam, are you alright? What are you doing?" Badi Ammi asked her as she saw her staring at her phone by the window. "I have to go out. I'll be back soon" Sanam had said. "You're not... you're not going back there, are you?" Badi Ammi had asked warily.

Sanam shook her head. "Never. But there's something I have to do"

Sanam had hid all the photos she had printed from her Badi Ammi, but she knew her Badi Ammi knew she had them, even if she didn't say anything. She never looked at them after that day she got them printed off her phone and deleted them.

This would be the first time, since that day she'd broken down on the side of the road - and some poor roadside stall owner had come to her rescue, asked if he could call someone, and waited with her until Badi Ammi came for her - that she would look at these photos again.

It was a moment of weakness she wouldn't forget. But she felt much stronger now.

Steeling herself, she started slowly looking through the photos. Sanam breathed in deeply; the scent of him from earlier still engulfed her senses. She could still smell him... that unique scent that was pure Aahil.

Sanam couldn't help the smile that graced her lips when she saw the amount of selfies. Personally, she hadn't been a fan of them, as she thought them to be pretentious, but Aahil loved taking them.

One day, she'd asked him why he couldn't just ask someone else to take the picture for them, because he had wanted almost every moment snapped.

Sanam still remembered his smile as he'd explained his reasoning to her.

"Sanam, it's like we're in our own little bubble this way. When someone else takes our picture... I feel like you fake your smile. I want to see your "real" smile, and you only show me that. We look more natural, because we're not posing for anyone else... we're just...ourselves"

She'd never argued with him about it after that, and even started cheekily sending him selfies of her own when he was at work. She smiled again, the happiness of the memories bubbling up inside of her.

Sanam looked through a few more photos, thinking that remembering the good times wasn't so bad if she could do so without remembering the bad.

Nave? Yes. Ignorant? Yes.

But, it made her feel good, to know that these small moments were once a part of her every day.

One particular incident came to mind that had her giggling to herself.

"Mrs Raza Ibrahim, are you trying to give me a h*rd*n while I'm at work?"

She'd done something very out of character and texted him a photo of herself in nothing but the racy black lingerie he'd shyly gifted her the evening before.

She'd looked momentarily shocked.

"You don't ever have to wear it... I just thought, maybe you'd like it... something different"

"Would you like me to wear this... for you?"

He shrugged. "I want what you want"

But she could see the curiosity evident in his eyes, and so the next day when no one was home, Sanam had tried it on... and decided to surprise her husband.

Her eyes drooped dreamily as she remembered what happened when he'd raced home after she'd naughtily told him that she knew how to take care of his "problem" if he'd just get h to her as fast as he could.

"That was so hot" he said, as he flew into their bedroom, pinning her against the closest wall and kissing her passionately.

Another photo slipped through her fingers as she reached for her coffee. She flipped it over to take a look and gasped softly.

It was a mirror selfie that Aahil had sent to her the day after she'd sent him her lingerie shot - in nothing but his boxers, winking at her - along with a message promising his wife a repeat performance of the night before.

Again, she could smell him, the scent of his aftershave from earlier still clouding her mind. Seeing him earlier had further fuelled this need... Sanam could almost, almost feel him.

Her body throbbed in response to seeing that picture, and she closed her eyes as she remembered that night.

She'd pretended to be asleep as he pottered around the room, because he'd promised to be home early, but he was very, very late. Aahil slipped in next to her and pulled her close, her back to his front.

She smiled when she realised he was as naked as she was under the covers. She smiled wider as he groaned when she manoeuvred herself against his hard body, and felt powerful at the thought that she could reduce him to this without really doing much.

Sanam could feel herself become wet just by thinking about him and her... and the sexy magic they'd created together. Instinctively, she started running her hands up and down her bare body, trying desperately to mimic the feel of his hands on her.

Her pulse throbbed as she felt the need to let go... the desperate need for release.

Sure, it wasn't exactly the same, but God damn it! Sanam was too far gone to stop now. She touched her own body; eyes closed... imagination making it easy to believe that it wasn't her at all.

She needed this. She needed to feel what it was like again, even if she had to do it herself.

She remembered how his hand had gripped her possessively from behind, and her own hand slid further... down down down until...

Her head pushed back deeper into the pillow as she remembered what it had felt like when he'd nipped her ear and trailed steamy hot kisses down her neck. She gasped unknowingly as her own hand came into contact with her wetness.

Sanam stroked herself erotically, as she gave in to the memory of how Aahil managed to touch her like no one else. Because... he knew her body better than she even knew it herself.

"Oh God Sanam... you were waiting for me..." he whispered hotly in her ear, as his fingers worked their magic at her core. He slipped his finger in and held her hip to steady her as she jerked with the pleasure of surprise.

His words in her mind, and his actions from that night prompted Sanam to touch herself like he did. Dipping her fingers into her warm folds slowly, sensually... she moaned out loud as fantasy and reality clashed wantonly.

He flipped her over and hovered above her, teasing her with his hardness, as his lips and tongue worshipped her breasts; licking, tweaking, sucking, kissing. "Aaahhh" she moaned, as she squirmed beneath him.

"I love that sound!" he rasped; his hands and mouth in a thousand places on her body at the same time.

Sanam felt her nipples harden at the sight in the mind, and she dragged her hands aggressively over them, willing the feeling to be similar to that night - his hands, his mouth... his tongue... his lips.

She remembered how Aahil's every touch sent her into desire-driven oblivion.

"Of course I waited, you promised you'd come early" she'd breathed, rotating her hips to create the most delicious friction against his hand.

"I'm not coming until you do... maybe twice" he'd hoarsely promised.

Sanam felt herself getting wetter just by hearing those sexy words... that sexy voice, in her mind. She started stroking harder, faster, deeper... as she imagined Aahil inside of her.

Without notice, Aahil removed his hand from her and thrust in urgently, as if his life depended on it. "God, I want you so bad. I need to be in you, Sanam!" he'd growled.

Sanam lifted her hips to match him thrust for thrust, as she moaned out incoherent ramblings.

Every time they made love, they did it as if their lives depended on it. Sanam felt like that now. She needed him to make her feel good again.

... Even if was just by imagination and memory.

It was still him...

She bucked her hips violently she heard him growl in her ear. "Sanam, you drive me wild!"

Imagining how he almost always bit down on her shoulder when he was close, had Sanam on the cusp of tumbling over the edge as she touched her most sensitive spot erotically.

"Sannnaammm..."

She erupted with a loud moan, falling over the edge repeatedly, as she panted out his name breathlessly.

Whether he'd been there physically or not, Sanam couldn't deny that it was him, and only him that could do this to her... make her do something like this... make her feel like this.

Breathing heavily, and feeling somewhat sated... Sanam lay on her side in her lonely bed and had to admit that there was a clear "after-orgasm" void.

She missed the part that came after... well, coming.

Aahil would always hold her close to him all night and not let go until the morning, when she would insist for him to do so, so that she could shower and get the day started.

Sanam had always loved that sense of security. This was the first time in all the time that she'd been alone, that her bed actually felt devoid of something it suddenly needed very much.

Her eyes suddenly flew open.

She remembered them together, the way they were with each other. She remembered the comfort, the togetherness, the way they talked about their future together... the confessions, the promises.

The love...

Something wasn't right. Something didn't add up. Something...

Sanam felt it, suddenly.

Thinking no further, she jumped up off the bed, ignoring the photos sprawled out in a collage all over it, and headed to the bathroom to change.

She needed to get out. She needed to think. She needed to know.

She needed...

"Something"

***

WOWZER!

Okay so.

I wouldn't expect anything less from Sanam. I mean after ALL that? THAT! That that Aahil has given her...THAT that she's been enjoying. THAT that she's been privy to. That she...

Hayyye!!!

MIRROR SELFIE!

And then.

"You don't ever have to wear it... I just thought, maybe you'd like it... something different"

"Would you like me to wear this... for you?"

He shrugged. "I want what you want"

And then. THAT.

How can you not. HOW can she not?

She wants him!!!

Hayye!

Tu ibtida meri

Tu imtehaan meri

Tu hi mera jahan...

Tu hi judaa.

Oh Aahil.

:'(

Tamara..

I did say you cheat...but let's face it. It's not your fault that your heavy heavy turns out...passionate and desirable.

A passionate angst.

Tu mere rubaroo

Har shay mein tu hi tu

Tu pehli aarzoo

Tu hi judaa.

I love.

LOVE.

*still in my room, on my bed- alone?*

Motherf***ker I know this Is gonna be good!

God, we all have such bad language... I LOVE!