Mahira Khan.

Some stories are not meant to be,

Some endings are inevitable,

Some mysteries remain unsolved,

Some truths are unbearably bitter,

Some answers are not supposed to be!!

Pain and pleasure run parallel to each other, the only problem is when you can not make out which one is disguised as the other. It is a horrendous realisation when the bitter truth comes face to face with you. Only now do I realise as I am sprawled here, with scattered hair and a confused heart, that I was stupid to not see the obvious. Mohsin Baig is another name for my forever. And how long did my idiotic self take to realise the ultimate, colossal truth??

I lower my eyelids again, thinking and thinking hard as to why I keep thinking about said man. Hazel eyes, jet black hair, slender fingers or taut muscles? Which among these was the deal breaker?

"Fiery temper, sharp eyesight and the care under his cold words", answers my inner self.

And then the process starts all over again. I exhale an exhausted sigh, as my brain again goes back to thinking how perfect Mohsin annoying Baig is. This is a cycle, I deduce. Wherein it starts with me gazing in space and picturising the enchanting hazels with specks of golden and then it goes to his smooth, husky voice and finally I loose my marbles over his beautiful, fluffy lips. Now how do I know about his lips, one may ask? That's the least of your worries when you have spent an entire night creeping on a sleeping man. As embarrassing as it sounds, a stronger force within me is fighting to say it is my right. Every little detail about the masterpiece that is Mohsin Baig, is marvellously exquisite. And I would move worlds to stare at what is lawfully mine.

Mine. The one word I never expected myself to associate with him. It has been a full 48 hours since I last conversed with him, which unfortunately was when he in his usual harsh tone said I was a guest. And what could hurt more than your own husband implying you are a guest. As I recall his damned words again, I feel like hitting his head against a wall. That jerk needs to realise I ain't leaving him anytime soon.

Why, you traitor heart? Out of the gazillion something male species, and at least a few thousand of them with amazing features, why did you have to choose the most annoying of them all??

I straighten myself on the bed, trying to tame my wild hair as I hear rustling behind me and then comes the surplus of adrenaline rush in my veins, confirming it is indeed my husband that entered the room.

"Are you done with your moping? I would rather come home to an empty room than one housing a wailing witch. Like, I am amazed with your level of stupidity. When do you plan to stop ruining your life over an asshole, a criminal minded one at that?" His anger seems to rise by the time he reaches his last sentence.

I turn my head away from him, not in the least bit surprised with his mockery. If there's one thing Mohsin freaking Baig loves to do with me, it is to sass me. "I am not upset over that asshole. I don't care about him anymore" , I grumble under my breath trying to stop myself from snapping at him.

"Woah! Now that's news to me. I never thought I would hear those golden words until I was breathing my last, and would demand those words from you as my dying wish." comes his ever sarcastic reply. I turn around glaring at him, pinning him with my hateful gaze. Why does he make as simple a thing as staying normal and not losing my shit, so damn difficult? I stomp closer, if his hazels are intense, then my blacks are no less.

"What do you want Mohsin? Agreed, I should not have dedicated so much time to avenge Amir..." Before I even finish, my shoulders are grabbed by his strong hands and I step into the infamous Baig trance, where all you can see is Mohsin, all you can hear is Mohsin, all you can feel is Mohsin.

"Don't!! Don't take his name ", he is breathing heavily. The nerve on his forehead is ticking like a time bomb and I am startled to say the least. "Why does me taking Amir's name infuriate you so much? " and he growls taking notice of how I deliberately took his name again.

My hands have a mind of their own as they hold his perfect jaw, cupping his face. We have an intense eye lock, "Answer me right now. Why does me....mmmm" His lips crash on mine the next instant, sucking and biting in fast movements. Before I realise what's happening, I feel his hands going on my neck and the other grabbing my waist so now I am completely pressed against him. By God, nothing has ever felt so complete before.

I close my eyes, trying to match his passion, hissing when he bites a little too hard and then soothes it with his dainty, slim fingers rubbing my stomach. Heaven. This feels like heaven, a feeling you want to get addicted to without worrying and a feeling you want to get permanent.

The fiery, passionate liplock lasts a few minutes and he backs off, though his hands still resting dangerously close to my buttock on my waist like they are supposed to be there, his eyes still staring at me with an emotion that I now recognise as desire.

My eyes tear up as I see hope, though it's just a streak and is hiding in the corner it's still there. Hope that he will see me as his wife one day.

"Mohsin", I whisper what my heart bas been chanting non stop all this while.

"You won't ever take his name, or think about him or do anything remotely close that has something to do with him." He speaks clearly, authority intact and the seriousness clear in his voice. I scrunch my brows, annoyed at the fact that he is bringing up that sore topic after such a beautiful moment. But I am too distracted to fight the strong urge to hug him to reply.

Our bodies are still in contact from his hold on my waist, and his sinfully attractive lips are still close enough to cloud my senses.

"Is that an order, officer Baig?" I try to get that confident streak.

He chuckles, the first of many to come that were solely directed at me, then shakes his head.

"Majaal hai ki Mahira Altaf Khan ko order kar sakun? It's not an order. Nor a request. I am merely exercising my rights as a husband which was long overdue."

Cue the skipping of heartbeats.

Is there ever going to be a moment when Mohsin can't answer me? I doubt that.

"Kaheka husband. Tumne hi to kaha tha ki main Mehmaan hun is ghar ki. Us naate to aap ka ham par koi haq nahin, Baig sahab."

His hold tightens on my waist, as he brings his mouth closer to mine, and when I was almost sure he is going to kiss me his lips land on my ear generating a shudder.

"Haq to Allah ne khud nawaza hai. Bas uske hukum ki ta'ameel ab tak nai ki kyunki meri biwi is rishte ko nahin maanti." He whispers creating ripple after ripple in my belly.

"Aur ab achanak sab badal kyun gaya?" I ask.

"Badla to kuch nahin hai, bas meri kaide mein rehne ki taaqat khatm ho chuki hai."

"Aur wo kyun?"

"Wo isliye begum sahiba, kyunki mera meri biwi ko dekhne ka daily quota do dinon se pura nai hua. Isliye meri satki hui hai." I gasp at the bluntness, is this my Mohsin? The same guy that refused to hug me back two days ago because that would show emotions?

"Maine socha, ab jab Mehmaan ka tag mil hi gaya hai to aapke saamne aakar apko aur takleef nai dete." I humph trying to get out of his hold but he won't budge, his head is now in the crook of my neck and if I am not dreaming he is sniffing my scent.

He withdraws his hands stepping away from me, then taking hold of my wrist, he begins walking back to his room from the guestroom that I have now been staying at, from two days.

As we step into his room, I notice it is a mess. His clothes for the first time are scattered around, his ties thrown away carelessly. He moves to his side still holding my wrist, pushing me on it. I get the hint settling myself near his pillow. He gestured me to sleep and I frown, this is his side.

"Don't ever leave your room again."

I lay down on the pillow while he removes yet another tie and throws it on the pile climbing the bed. The next instant, my breath hitches as he lays on top of me, his head between my breasts and his hands on my sides.

Few minutes of my hands raking his hair, and him moving his head to get a comfortable position on my chest, he releases a sigh of relief closing his eyes.

I don't fail to hear the "My safe haven" before he completely falls asleep.

Who are you and what did you do with my husband? The one colder than ice and stoic as rock.