It was a quiet evening at Khan Haveli. The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the grand halls in a warm glow, while the faint murmurs of servants completing their evening chores could be heard in the distance. In the bedroom, however, peace was a far-off fantasy for Meerab, who was, as usual, engrossed in a novel.
The dim lighting of the room provided a soft ambiance, the kind that made one want to curl up with a book and simply relax, which was exactly what Meerab was doing. She was seated in bed, legs crossed, a novel in her hand, and her hair cascading down her shoulders in loose waves. The world outside could wait, she thought, as she turned the page, immersed in the fictional world of her choosing.
But there was someone else in the room whose idea of relaxation was very different.
On the sofa, positioned a few feet away from her, sat Murtasim. His sharp features were softened by the dim lighting, but his eyes never wavered from Meerab. He watched her with a mixture of amusement and longing, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Murtasim’s arms were crossed over his chest, but it was clear that he was waiting for something, or perhaps, more precisely, waiting for *her*.
It wasn’t the first time he had caught her like this, lost in the pages of her book, oblivious to his presence. And every time, he felt the familiar tug in his chest, a warmth that only Meerab could invoke. But tonight, he wasn’t content to simply sit back and watch her.
No, tonight he had other plans.
---
Meerab didn’t notice when Murtasim stood up from the sofa. She didn’t hear the soft rustle of his footsteps as he moved across the room towards her. She was too lost in her book, her mind occupied by the characters and the twists of the story. But she did notice when the bed dipped slightly under his weight.
Her eyes flicked up for just a moment, catching sight of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, a teasing smile already playing on his lips. She frowned, sensing the mischief in his gaze.
“Murtasim,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Don’t you have anything else to do?”
He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What? I’m just sitting here.”
“No,” she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not *just sitting here.* You have that look.”
“What look?” Murtasim asked, the smile never leaving his face. He leaned closer, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.
“That look,” Meerab muttered, pulling her book closer to her face, trying to ignore the way her heartbeat picked up whenever he got too close.
Murtasim, of course, wasn’t one to give up easily. He shifted even closer, until his body was mere inches from hers. His broad shoulders blocked her view of the rest of the room, and the warmth radiating from him was impossible to ignore.
“You’ve been reading for hours,” Murtasim said, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t you think it’s time to take a break?”
Meerab sighed dramatically, refusing to look up from her book. “I *am* taking a break. This is my break.”
Murtasim chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to the book in her hands. “Really? Because it looks like you’re ignoring me.”
“I’m not ignoring you,” she replied, though the slight smile on her lips suggested otherwise.
“Oh, I think you are,” Murtasim said, leaning even closer until his lips were almost brushing against her ear. His voice dropped to a whisper. “And I think you should stop.”
Meerab finally tore her eyes away from the page, glaring up at him. “Murtasim, what do you want?”
Without missing a beat, Murtasim grinned. “I want a hug.”
