Chapter 102: A weird emotion

"Nothing," she muttered. Not looking at him. Her eyes looking at anywhere but him.

"Nothing?"

"Yes, nothing."

"You can tell me, zaad."

"And why does it even matter to you what's going on in my head?" Her eyes snapped up at

him. "Why do you even care?!"

His brows raised at her sudden sharp voice.

"All you care about is yourself," she muttered.

"Is that what you've been thinking?"

"No," she looked away to her right.

He turned her face towards him. "Tell me clearly, Sheharzaad."

"Why? Do you care about me? Why should I? When all you care about is yourself?" Without

realizing it, the volume of her voice had increased.

"Shhh," he placed the knuckle of his forefinger on her lips, making her lips part slightly. "Do

you want the whole building to listen to this?"

Again, she clenched her jaw and folded her arms across her chest.

"Is that what's going on in your head?"

"No," she answered sharply.

Stubborn lady.

"Look at me," This time he used his 'that' voice, and instantly her heart froze. She

immediately looked toward him. "Now tell me."

"It's nothing," she whispered, looking down. She quickly realized her mistake and looked up

at him again. "Sorry. I'm sorry," she apologized, recalling how much it angered him

whenever she didn't make eye contact when they were conversing.

"Relax," he just said, noticing the panic in her eyes.

A few moments passed, and she at last muttered what was messing with her mind. "Why are

you marrying me when you don't love me?" Her voice wasn't above a whisper, yet it

conveyed every emotion she felt. Then her eyes dropped down to his chest.

"When there is no love in it, then why this marriage? Why are you marrying me?" She

uttered, "All you want is my body. Not me, Shehryaar." She could feel the tears stinging her

eyes. "I feel like I'm just a piece of thing. I was free before you. I never felt as if I'm just a rag

doll." She shut her eyes tightly. He could see her pupils moving through her eyelids, and she

opened them again, staring at him. Her hand moved and took off the scarf from her head

before throwing it on the floor. She came close to him, holding the lapels of his coat. Their

noses touched. Eyes collided with each other.

"You can... you can do whatever y-you want with me," she didn't realize the tear slipping

from her eyes. "For as long as you want. And once your obsession is over, leave me. But

don't marry me if all you want is my body. If all you have is lust and obsession for me." She

stared directly into his eyes, and once she was done speaking, she stepped away from him,

taking a few steps back and then bobbing her head down, shutting her eyes.

"If y-you want," her lips began to shiver. "If you want, I-I can t-take off m-my clothes." Her

body shook with these sentences alone.

Her ears caught the sound of his footsteps coming toward her. Her throat bobbed. Her

hands formed a tight fist.

She shut down all the voices in her head that were forcing her to back away.

She didn't want to now. She just wanted to get rid of being felt as just a thing. A mere thing.

He stopped. And she could feel as if he was right in front of her.

The intensity of her heartbeat increased by leaps and bounds in her ears.

What would he do?

Tear her clothes?

Kiss her?

Or bend her over the table?

Make her orgasm?

The thoughts alone made her body shake, and she stopped herself from taking a step back.

She knew all he had for her was obsession. And when she was presenting the chance

herself, he would take it eventually.

Her eyes opened, and she found him standing in front of her, his hand holding her scarf.

"Fine, I'll take it," he said, snatching the ground beneath her feet. The realization hit her

hard. And this time, she took a step away from him.

"No," she whispered to herself.

What have I done?

That night momentarily flashed in front of her vision, and it bore more power to her

footsteps.

One step.

Then another step.

And she kept backing away.

When she had presented him the opportunity at first place, then why was she backing off?

She tried to find the answer to this question when a suppressed thought from the heaps of

emotions rose.

"Himmat nahi hai mujh mei," she uttered the truth and saw him stepping toward her with

assured steps.

(I don't have enough courage)

"I thought I was brave enough, but I can never be this brave to sell myself again," she

whispered, more to herself. The memories of the night hit her again.

She saw him coming closer and stopped just in front of her.

"Forget I ever said that," she said to him. He remained quiet and observed her with keen

eyes. Then he moved his hand, and she felt warmth spreading around her neck that had

been tingling with cold sensations since she had thrown away her scarf. And then she

realized it was the warmth of a fabric.

She found him wrapping her head in the same scarf that she had thrown.

"Don't worry. I won't touch you until our nikkah as I said."

The word 'nikkah' alone brought chills to her spine.

He had just said it to test her and somehow found his heart satisfying when she backed off.

And then his arms moved on their own accord, and she was enveloped in a hug. The warmth

of his body, spreading around her. His hand softly moving against her scarf-clad head.

Momentarily, his eyes closed, inhaling her scent, feeling her warmth.

"I don't know how to love," he whispered and found his heart skipping a beat.

A weird emotion brewing up within the core of his chest.