A/N: Let me preface this by saying, I don't claim to be a writer. For some reason my yks buddies think otherwise. This is just to amuse them and wipe away some tears we already shed after the last episode.
*Spoiler* If you don't like explicit details of an intimate kiss than this fiction is not for you. If you are underage, please keep away.
Disclaimer: I hereby solemnly declare that I do not own "Yakeen Ka Safar" or any of its characters. They belong to Hum TV in lieu of the author "Farhat Ishtiaq."
Trailer
Sounds of loud music, utensils clattering, and distant chatter could be heard from the bridal room. A room where Zubiya Khalil, was recently decreed the title of Mrs. Zubiya Asfandyar. Everyone had left to grab some food, leaving her alone, immersed in her own thoughts. The thought of being his,' belonging to him was such a joyous feeling. A feeling her lips kept acknowledging with a never ending smile. Only she knew what demons she had to fight in order to reach this perfect, fateful night. Tonight was the mehndi cum nikkah ceremony of her's and Asfandyar Ali Khan's. They were finally forged in a bond of that promised happily ever after.' Tomorrow she will step into the lives of the Khans, as a responsible bahu and a dutiful wife. Did she deserve this? Did she deserve the respect of his family? Did she deserve that adoration of his? Thoughts were racing her mind and she was trying hard to keep them at bay. Tomorrow will be the beginning of a new life. A new chapter. She was so eager to enter into besides her worries.
Little did she know, the person raking havoc in her mind was just as keen to turn this new page. A loud guffaw and a thud after, she gasped as Asfandyar barged in the room, sneakily glancing back to ensure no one had followed.
She addressed the situation as she overcame her shock, "Aap yahan kiya kar rahe hain?"
Clasping the door shut, he turned to her and smirked that smirk of his, "Mai apna saman check karne aya hon, jo mujhe kal handover kiya jayega."
Being compared to a luggage didn't sit well with her, "Saman?" she tilted head, "Mai aapko saman lag rahi hon?"
"Nahi, aaj tu tum kuch aur hi lag rahi ho." He replied evenly. His eyes taking in the view before her. There she sat in a mustard shalwar kameez with green dupatta perfectly placed on head. The shirt adorned with intricate green, pink, and gold embroidery. With minimal make-up and kohl lined eyes she was a vision of beauty. A pink hue with which her face gleamed. "Bohat achi lag rahi ho..." He continued softly, "bohat se bhi zyada."
Zubiya was blushing profusely at the compliment. She was also very aware of the situation they were in. "Aap ko yahan nahi aana chahiye tha." She chastised bowing her head. Her eyes looking everywhere but at him. He was looking so handsome in his traditional black sherwani with silver trim at the length of the cut.
"Kyon nahi aana chahiye tha?" He asked rhetorically, "Aur haan ab ye na kehna ke tum meri paband nahi ho." He reminded her of her once spoken words, "kyonke woh tu tum ho, ab." Emphasis were made on the 'ab.'
She coyly raised her head to level with him, "Asfi," his body became loser at this term of endearment, "agar kissi ko pata chal gaya tu."
"Tu?" He chimed, amused.
"Tu log kiya sochain ge?" Her fears came to the forefront.
"Log sochain ge, kitna pyar karta hai apni biwi se. Nikkah hote hi foran pohanch gaya uss ke paas." He wouldn't budge.
Now she was getting antsy, "Aap se ek din sabar nahi ho sakta hai?"
At this, he sat down next to her on the only couch in the room. "Waqai nahi ho raha!" His gaze was set on her and she was turning all shades of crimson at this closeness. She scooted away an inch. The heat of his body betraying her sense.
"Aap please..." She mustered, looking somewhat helplessly at the closed door.
"Meri taraf dekho." Said with a right, but the tone lacking in command.
She did try to focus at his face but the passion lighting his eyes, made her even more anxious. He brushed the stray strand of her auburn hair away from her face with his index finger. He bridged the gap between them, slowly dipping his face to match hers. "Dekho, aaj manna mutt karna." He pleaded, narrowing his eyes, looking into hers, silently asking for her permission.
She half registered, half not, "...Ji," was the only thing she could utter before he took her chin with his left hand and crashed his lips onto hers. Her already big eyes grew impossibly huge, and then, they just closed in acceptance. There was no point in fighting him. In fighting the love, the fire, the passion she felt for him. He was hers. And she would become his.
He suckled at her lower lip with a fervor. Worshipping the suppleness of it, memorizing the curve of her mouth. Almost reverently he alternated between the upper and lower lip, giving each his due attention. Their breaths mingling into each other. The smell of his Calvin Klein, with that of her lavender. The sensuous movements of his lips were sending the butterflies in her stomach into chaos. And she was: Reveling. Relishing. Coming undone.
Their ravenous trance was broken when the knocking at the door startled them both. "Zubiya, darwaza kyon band kar diya. Mai khana le ke ayi thi tumhare liye." Geeti's voice rang through.
"Ek minute." She said breathlessly, then added adjusting herself, looking at Asfandyar, "Aap jayen mai aapko message kar ke bula longi."
"Aisa kiya kar rahi ho? Kaheen Asfi tu nahi hai tumhare saath." She inquired laughingly, not really buying her own theory, and then, "acha mujhe message kar dena jab ready ho tu."
"Haan tu hum kahan the," he stated, caressing her jawline. Back to admiring her delicate features.
Her shy smile turned into concern, "Hum kaheen bhi the ab aap jayeen. Kal milenge!" She chastised, pushing him off the couch.
"Fine." He said resignedly getting up, "Yeh Geeti bhabhi ne sare mood ka satiyanaas kar diya waise bhi."
Her melodious laugh resonated in the room as he made his way towards the door. He stopped half way, glanced at her form with mischievous filled eyes, "Yeh jo aaj howa hai." He gestured between the two of them, "Yeh tu sirf ek trailer tha. Socho movie mai kiya kiya hoga!" With that thought, he swiftly turned around and strode away. Leaving her bashfully contented, dreaming of the days to come.
He was indeed the gift Allah had bestowed upon her for all her struggles.
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