In Zahir’s POV, I put more details so don't be confused. Well, I hope you enjoyed Hoor's POV, too.
— H O O R —. . .“Don’t sound so romantic,” I roll my eyes, but I like it. The way he speaks sets butterflies in my stomach. And nowadays, I have been feeling it strongly. “Do I?” He cocks a brow, looking all sharp as well as sexy. My gaze lingers upon his handsome face as they remain there to behold his beautiful features. He looks a bit confused, as if he does not know while I can’t help but see the soft way his lips curl. Lips that are light pink as flower petals and wet from his licking the chocolate off of them. I hum, stealing my gaze and enjoying the waffle. “Don’t you think so?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and not wishing to look at him or I will get lured to him again. After all, he is so handsome and my husband. This thing — this bond — and this truth that he is my handsome gives me even an open right to behold him and I do that shamelessly. Does Zahir notice that? I really do not know nor do I want to know. Come on, it’s embarrassing, right? Suppose one day he comes
— H O O R —. . .His thumb presses my bottom lip, setting in my heart a crazy yearning for more. More than this — oh, I desire him to go beyond this because this is what my body wants and my mind leads me to — but I know I have to stay within the limits. How long? Our eyes lock as he steps closer. My grip on the strap of my bag tightens, my heart pounding inside my chest. His pupils darken and his touch seduces me to give in. The darkness in his eyes is authoritative. His breath falls on my lips as they part and the next I hear from him my knees weaken. “How much am I craving for a taste of your lips, only my heart knows that, Hoor,” he says as his beautiful dark blue eyes flutter between my lips and eyes, stopping above as he hypnotizes me. How words, so dominant as well as seductive, holding a pure yet dark yearning as of a doe wandering in the wilderness in search of water, makes me feel weak in my knees. I feel like giving up but I am afraid of giving in, knowing that it wil
— H O O R —. . .Leaning against the headboard of our room, I read the book in my hand, going through the lines leisurely but all my attention is taken by Zahir as soon as he enters the room. He comes out of the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants. There is a towel in his hand as he ruffles his hair. His eyes wander around until they land on me. He finds me staring at him but says nothing. He walks away to hand the towel and comes back to stand before the vanity. All the while I stare at him blankly. I am half annoyed by this stupid habit of his, wondering when would he start listening to me, but on the other hand, I have been feeling something wild as well as pleasant in my stomach by the view of his half-naked body. He is hot. His muscles flex with each movement he makes and his carved abs are something that I cannot seem to ignore. I have glanced at them before and as not lying to myself, for a moment I was impressed, soon followed by a very shameless and sensual id
— Z A H I R —. . .A soft breath escapes my lips as I behold her book. Her blouse, from behind is in a v shape. It is cherry red in color, matching her saree. Still, it is not tied from behind as the straps hang through her back. She is applying makeup, staring at herself through the mirror and I wonder if she can catch me. Like this — gawking at her like a stupid. I do not want her to lose focus, at all, or else she will stop doing it and start stuttering and staggering. That’s what happens to her when I am around her and if she thinks that I have not noticed it, then she is delusional. I have noticed it countless times. Especially the way she blushes. I think she is going to blush often tonight. There are some rolling things stuck in her hair. I do not know what they call it but it looks like Newton’s things. She puts down something and grabs something else. I am totally unaware of the name but I catch the colors of them. Some are pink, some white, some creamy, and some red. S
— Z A H I R —. . .We enter the large area which is decorated finely. People are around us, screaming to Malhotra’s luxury as they invited so many people. They are chattering in a low voice, the large area is bestowed with a warm glow of lights. But among this all, I find my wife to be the most beautiful sight to my eyes she amazes me to the point if I really deserve that. I glance at her, finding her admiring the place. My thumb secretly caresses the back of her palm as our hands are together. Her big brown eyes look everywhere before landing on me. She leans closer and gestures for me to bend a little. I do as she says, keeping in mind the height difference we share. “So huge and luxurious. They are really rich,” she mutters in my ear, making me smile. “They are,” I answer her back, keeping the volume low. She nods and we regain our posture. We walk ahead and the Malhotra couple welcome us. Mr Malhotra along with his wife came to us with pretty smiles. He stretches his arms
— H O O R —. . .“You know what, Hoor, it gives me so much happiness to realize that you are his wife,” says Mrs Malhotra another time while I am busy holding the baby in my arms. Oh, I am fascinated with these cute beings, and no doubt, I want to have one. End of my wish right here. “Hoor,” she calls my name very softly, gaining all my attention at once. I raise my eyes, my attention leaving the sleeping baby. In her grey eyes, I find hope that makes my heart melt in my chest. What is that for?“Zahir has gone through so much and I hope that you will make him realize that not all relationships are like his father and mother’s,” she purses her lips while I am stressed a little. I will be able to do anything if Zahir lets me. He keeps his distance and I too am very afraid of getting hurt in the middle of trying to reach him. Surely he has created a wall around his emotions and he, by no means, let me come closer to him in that sense. While I am very much afraid of being forgotten
— H O O R —. . .The world was shapeless. This earth was completely empty. The Spirit of the Almighty hovered on the surface. He said and this place started being built. At His Word, light came and at His Word, life began to flourish. His pleasure was to decorate the place before we arrived. His happiness was in us and is still there today. He created the first man with His very own hands. Made it from clay and breathed life into it. He breathed His Spirit into that being and it came alive. From the touch of Adonai — the Lord almighty — from the wish of Adonai, from the pleasure of Adonai, and the very hands and breath of Adonai He created us. And then created a woman for the first man. He made them for each other and I am made for Zahir. Though my eyes fall shut, I see a bright light that attacks my mind, tingling it so pleasantly with the memories of love and Zahir that I have forgotten every sadness or confusion at this proximity. All that I had felt and saw in my mind was only be
— H O O R —. . .Zahir is trying to ignore me again. And I can’t tolerate it now. It is so annoying! The morning I woke up, still feeling tired because we arrived home late, I noticed that Zahir was still sleeping on the couch. I decided to use the washroom after making Zahir use the bed. I am leaving so what is the use of it? Zahir can use it now. I can’t deprive him of his own bed now or else he will point it out someday. I walk over to him and call his name. He does not respond, taking soft breaths as he sleeps. I tap his shoulder, calling his name again. This time he responds we a groan. He turns, murmuring, “What?”“Go and sleep on the bed. I’m leaving,” I say before I turn around and walk away. When I come back, I find him sleeping on the bed. He is hugging a pillow. His leg and bulky arm are almost choking the pillow. I smile to myself and walk towards the dressing table. I do some make-up before I turn to leave. My sister-in-law greets me lovingly, asking me about the pa