im your best friend

Hiii!! I’ve done different series list and I’ll do a big one once I’m done but here you go:

Ruins of us major iqbal (Indian agent) x wife!reader

Unscathed if yours Rehman Dakait (Indian agent) x wife!reader

Major Iqbal (Indian agent) x wife!reader prev series list. this is final ch.

word count: 7.05k+

warnings: canon type violence, angst

THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER AAAAHHH I am lowkey a bit emo about this one and the entire story in itself but ah well

Blood trailed downwards tracing away the proof of a hard fight on his fingertips, a jagged breath and heavy eyes that refused to leave her hand. “Aap ne yeh hi socha hai?” He asked her, as she refused to return back with him. The jet awaited to take the agents back to their homeland, assets back in the shelf. Jaskirat would be returning, as would Arjun. With the names spoken only by the tongues that could not have hands to hold a weapon for them. He had never imagined going back, Arjun knew he would meet his end at the other end of an enemy’s gun down here. However this was worse than an end, he was supposed to be going back without her. In a way he had met his end already. 

“Koi aur chaara nahi hain.” It was pointless to repeat to him what he knew already. He did not believe he was owed anything for what he did for his country, but her…he believed he was owed abandonment of her mission from her.  It was mindlessly selfish but love makes one awful, it has been the case since the beginning of time. With pat on her back, eyes that spoke a heavy gratitude for the woman who was granting him a new life, Jaskirat came out of the car with tears in his eyes. The pain, exhaustion and a newfound sense of lightness because he was no longer Hamza. 

She had saved the two of them and given her alias’s return for Jaskirat. He had been here longer, it is only fair his watch ends on a good note. Disappearance of only two could work at once. Two of the most crucial ones. Returning was an option that didn’t even cross their minds until she came into play. 

-

All of which took place in the same twelve hours. “Bada pachtaega haramzade.” The major spit out the blood from his mouth, Omar had gone rogue after leaving his post, the SP purposefully did not interfere. Having him resign just made him boundless to lawfulness and conducting an authorised operation. He brought forth a team of officials to ‘question’ the major in his own house, the most uncivil way. The security was replaced with his own task force and house help on the leave. 

The wife, the ever clueless dutiful wife whose story was bought so well she had to play into the character, writhing and crying on the floor for the violence she was subjected to witness. Handcuffed at gunpoint, sobbing in fright awfully. Had she willed it to fight back none of these men would stand a chance, only this was a delicate situation. Even if one of them were to make it out of this mansion it would blow their entire cover, especially her and everyone linked to her meaning hamza and Rizwan both. For Omar did not suspect her, only the major after his outburst at the station the previous day. 

It pained him much more, to see her cry out for him in agony. Even if it was just an act because Omar had bought her stories of being a gullible new bride. “Dimag kharab ho gaya hain tera saale—“ he was silenced with a fist at the face, a shrill sound followed and it was not his, but hers. 

“Naam. Naam chahiye.” Omar was convinced. Must have been a big enough clue and all he could think of was her ‘told you so’ that was to follow after this ordeal was done, that he was being too slippery, that he was letting his husbandly feelings interfere with the entire mission. He believed there was a glorious-after for this very moment as he bleed on the floor. It was shattered as soon as Omar pulled the gun on her, “Naam.” He yelled, tears streamed down her face as she scanned the positions of all possible officers surrounding them. 

Not too many in her vicinity, one would not think to place any guards near a cuffed woman who had no fight in her. Or so they thought, it would be beyond easy for her to fight without her hands and it was only a matter of time before she could free herself. It was only the cover that could result in a heavy compromise and she wondered if they could afford it. Her train of thought broke with the door of their house, a loud thud revealing Hamza barging in, the other officers raised their arms in his direction and she spared no further second because he came firing in. 

She sprawled her legs up front for the officer about to rush to lunge at hamza, he fell to the ground at once and she grabbed at him through her cuffed hands yet legs free to kick. It was very simple, after years of training. These life and deaths moments were rather muscle memory for her. One two three and four, men following orders, men who were unlawful and men who were the cause for the compromise of their identities. 

The fight was not excruciating for any of them, the follow up was going to be. With compromised covers things become ever so delicate, with only Omar yet to be knocked out, Hamza had him grabbed by the shoulder as the major, or the two identified agents as he put it, questioned him, “Aur kisko brief kiya hain?” With a punch he emphasised his question. 

It was a flip of a coin really, either Omar end up on the other side of the trigger or the two agents. And neither of them were to open their mouths, he simply grinned a teethy smirk through a busted lip refusing to answer.

“Nahi bolega?” He scoffed as Hamza tightened his grip around Omar. “Nahi bolega?!” His voice roared through the room as he paced around to find something, he had his ways. Breaking a glass on the floor, he grabbed Omar out of Hamza’s grip and threw him on the scattered shards. 

The maniac continued to laugh, even with the pain. He was beyond reasoning and as it seemed, he was buying time. The interaction of getting him to open his mouth, disclose possible task forces dragged on. The confidence in his survival could not be a bluff, there was a backup to all this already. He had already told authorities, he was biding time and there was no point in questioning him about what he would not answer and they already knew. A clean kill in a single bullet, she went at it. The same fate he forced aalam bhai to. Both men whipped their heads around, “Waqt zaya kar raha tha, issne har jagah muh khola hoga aur backup forces yaha aati hi hongi.” 

The two exchanged a look, not against her decision but simply what turn this meant for them. The last segment of what they had planned to do was this very day. It was too much of a gamble to let that be and leave today. The others at the mosque, the young terrorists in the making, funded by the task force all those need to be demolished for good. After their eyes locked an unsaid agreement hamza turned to her, “Aapko jaana hoga.”  

She tilted her head confused, awaiting him to explain further but her husband pitched in. “Fauran yeh mulk chhodiye, embassy aapko yaaha se wapas nahi bhej sakti-“ 

Hamza handed her tickets, and as she looked at them, three names: Yalina, Zayan and her own. “Aapne yeh pehle se tay kar rakha tha?” 

“Yalina aur Zayan ko akele nahi bhej sakte.” Hamza emphasised, it was a safety net as well as something he had planned with him prior to this ordeal. 

“Waqt nahi hai…chaliye-“ he could not meet her eyes for he was about to set her onto the same path again, a goodbye she did not know was coming only this time he could tell she had figured it out. Hamza was already hurrying outside to arrange for the cars all the same, Aslam could get to Yalina for cross questioning the same way and they would not have the chance to leave at all. 

However she stopped him by his arm, not yet done getting her point across. “Kya aap itne kamzor-dil hain ki phir se usi tarah humein bina kuch kahe chale jayenge?” She had watched him die in her eyes once and it was not odd, living with the ghost of a man. This was her tragedy, hoping a ghost would grant her a proper goodbye or a proper life. 

“Hum kahi nahi jaa rahe, aapko wapas bhej rahe hain.” He tried to be logical about it, knowing well enough that she had hit the nail right in the head. His return was not warranted and his return to her less unlikely. All he could do was be grateful in death that he was visited by an angel in his last months of life instead of his very end. Maybe she wasn’t an angel or the wife that fought with an angel just how she was fighting with him right now to keep him beyond his time.

“Sach bataiye humein.” She could deduce the had this plan laid out prior to this happening and had kept her from it, hamza got the tickets out of this country to keep his family safe. Her husband was doing the same for her. She was not Yalina, she was not his wife, she was here as an agent and yet he could not help himself. 

“Aapka na jaanna hi aapke haq mein behtar hai, aisa kuch hum aapko batana nahi chaahte jo aapka khatra badhayein.” It was exhausting, putting on this front of stony resolution as if the flutter of her eyes didn’t hold the power of tugging at his heart strings. 

“Aap hamare saath dhokha kar rahe hain, phir se.” She told him, on the verge of tears forced to come to terms with the fact that this was another goodbye. Even if he wasn’t bidding it to her. 

That was it. He grabbed her by her upper arms. Pinning her to the nearest wall, his wounds could be seen up close by her and she could only zero down on the red, “Koi parwah nahi humein, yaha kya hi hoga hamare saath. Aapke bagair in sabka mere liye koi matlab nahi hai. Aur agar humein aapki khairiyat ke yakeen ke bina jeena pade, toh aisi zindagi par laanat hai. Hum thak chuke hain aapko baar-baar ye samjha kar...ki aapke bina hamara koi wajood nahi hai.” 

She teared up looking away from him, the finality of this moment “Kyu kar rahe aaisa hamare saath?” The break in her voice was involuntary but she was too miserable to pay mind to it. 

Moving her hair out of her face only so his hands could hold her face better, for this were to be the last time he would be holding her he might hold her properly. No hair in the way, no loose grip, he wanted to remember this moment for whatever time he had left. The memory would not feel like a lingering kiss if he did not do it right. “Agar aapka dil ijazat de, toh maaf kar dijiyega...yahi hamari mohabbat hai.” 

“Nahi chahiye aapki mohabbat.” His hands felt too familiar for her to yank away in one heartbeat, even if he did not tell her his plans she could deduct this was their last time seeing each other. She knew she would see him again, perhaps in deliriums and angry confessions to a lonely house cursing out his name and her only hope would be a radical acceptance about the fact that there could be a chance he would still be alive. “Bardasht nahi hoti aapki mohabbat humsein.” Had her fates been kinder to her she would have despised him. All these losses that were theirs to bear she withstood all by herself. He became one of her crosses to bear too. And yet. 

He could not stomach his love either. There was a cruel sense of humour in his inner world when the universe returned her to him as his final gift to this life. A goodbye he had to return but return back, safely. Wiping her tears with the pads of his thumb he gripped her face as gently as his hopelessness allowed him. Placing a kiss to her lips like etching a signature to the time he wanted to stop. He could feel her tears like the prick of the sweetest poison in the world. The world no longer moving behind his shut eyes only her face was his universe and her shut eyes the plant he resided on, within the kiss that was his home. Perhaps he could die a happy man. “Chaliye…” he pulled away eventually, tucking a hair strand behind her ear, taking in a last glance at her. “Der ho rahi hain.” 

Once outside Hamza handed her the tickets along with the husband and fatherly worry telling her to keep Yalina and Zayan safe even though he did not have to tell her. She promised him she would. A part of her wanted to ask the same thing from him, keep my Arjun safe? The words died on her tongue for hamza was also somebody’s husband and she could make the same promise to Yalina had she asked her so she kept quiet. 

Could not bring herself to look back at the man standing near the steps which led to the entrance of the manor. The car took her away from him and he could only watch resonating the departure with the flowers in a leaf bowl flowing away in the holy river, she was his flower and his river and the holiest being he could ever call his. 

-

Getting Yalina and her little one to follow her to another country was not difficult, if that was not enough the guarded suspicion in the other woman’s eyes told her enough of the fact that she probably knew of Hamza’s identity. She suspected the same of her, a look of betrayal carried her heavy gaze in the taxi ride to the airport. She had been nothing but sweet, a true friend, sister even. Only to realise that it was all a deception this entire time. Y/n could almost hear her thoughts as Yalina kept Zayn tightly clutched to herself. 

Airport, drop off, security check and sitting by the gate, Yalina spoke nothing at all. Only looking at the woman sitting next to her time to time and both of them simply allowed the oblivious Zayn’s amusements here and there whenever he asked them a question or something childish, “behen nahi thi kabhi hamari, par sochti rahi ke agar hoti toh tumhare jaisi hi hoti.” 

The agent, the sister…maasi. Had no answer for that, what was she to say to this new found acrimony that was not even the part of her job. She truly hoped to settle but words could do her only so much, “Yalina…” she trailed off with a sigh, “Behno me maafi hoti nahi iss liye mangenge bhi nahi.” 

Yalina did not reply, its as if she was trying to erase every laugh she had with y/n in her mind. Betrayal feels only as deep as the relationship is. “Haq hai tumhara ke mujhse gussa raho.” y/n agreed, turning fully to face her as Yalina stared ahead. “Par tumse dosti ka koi natak nahi kiya tha maine.” 

“Kyu maanu tumhari baat?” Yalina asked, her eyes irked and heavy with bitter feelings as she spoke with crossed arms and unloved with her understanding. 

“Jo kaam maine yaha kiya hain, na toh tum aur na toh tumhare jaise dusro ke khilaf me kiya hain.” She emphasised, there was no pride she did not take in serving for her country which did not come at the cost of innocents. Something this very country did not have a knack for. “Jab tak tumhare saath hain tumhare saar ka ek baal bhi kharab nahi hone denge.” 

“Yeh mehfosiyat ka main kya hi karungi?” Yalina finally turned to face her fully now, “Unko nahi bacha sakte kya…?” Yalina was grasping at straws to find a guardian angel for her husband, holding her hands in her own she made the earnest request. “Hamza?” There was a dying hope within herself that he might as well be somewhere at this airport catching the same flight to start anew elsewhere. Be away from the target SP had placed on his back. 

“Yalina…” With a sigh she had to avert her gaze because there was no assurance she could provide her about what will happen to Hamza. Her distress was so well understood by the agent who had yet again let martyrdom’s obligation take her lover away from her.  

“Tumhara koi aapna hota toh?” Yalina pressed. Somebody to call hers. After that there was a ringing in her ear, a faint transit in her head to another memory which kept her from not adhering more of Yalina’s worried words. 

“1600 meters.” Her voice came clear on the intercom with the noise despite the rain, as long as it did not rain hard enough for SAT phone connections it was good enough to hear through them. 

“Hold.” The officer’s voice told her to, she kept her grip precisely eased and an unblinking sight of the target through her sniper. In the outskirts of Kashmir, they had been on this mission to eradicate the violent extremists of the region causing unnecessary bloodshed and execution of the military personnels. 

After a tireless work around for weeks in the valley they were finally able to locate the man who carried out such attacks. From the stone pelting to suicide bombing and spreading violent religious hate, he was tracked down. The team assigned to this had been in the valley for over a month and the superiors flew down for the final segment to make sure there are no casualties. 

“Hostage situation; invalid distance. Sniper abort.” The words, his voice, it was one of those sentences she could never shake off and it only hurt that it was one of the darker memories she shared of Arjun. 

The rascal on the target line for the sniper’s lens had gotten hold of a woman, she recognised the hostage too. “It’s his daughter, it’s an achievable targ—.” 

“Aapni post se hato. It’s going to be an abort mission.” Arjun was the ever stern officer, not because he was her superior or because he was her husband. It was none of that, years in this field made him far sighted enough to fallback on his word without no issue. This was his unit and he could never afford a casualty, his word went. 

“It’s a practical target.” Bansal’s voice provided insight and she could hear the conversation through her earpiece whilst still not abandoning her post on the top of the building. An unmoving grip on the target with a struggling hostage against him. All other officials facing him had put their weapons to the floor to protect the hostage’s safety. 

“Too much risk.” Arjun left no room for argument and he would not have it, as an opinion or an opposition. “Y/l/n, abandon your post. Immediately.” 

“He is right there! I can do it—it’s-“ she hated that she had to account for her target whilst being on guard for it to someone who wasn’t even behind the trigger like she was. He was just making judgment calls based on his position and training, but this was about instinct and just how much things would be solved if she was given the green light for the trigger. The entire month spent chasing this rascal would all be in vain and apart from that he would just walk. Walk away free. It agitated her that it was acceptable to him. 

“You will obey your commanding officer and touch base in 5.” The voice in her ears did not match with the blood coursing through her veins to simply make her shot, the sight through her viewfinder of the man did not match the command she was obligated to follow. 

She did. By the time she touched base, even with all of her gear and her rifle hung low in her hands she felt the most empty handed she ever had. “Arjun?”

“Delta team.” Bansal answered, Arjun was the head of this intelligence mission and he overlooked the rest of them. Bansal could tell she was not happy to abort the mission simply from the aggressive removing of her gear. “Target ne hostage situation khada kiya, tumhe protocol pata hain.” 

There was a friendly if-it’s-any-comfort time that enraged her, she didn’t even bother looking up from her seat where she was undoing her shoes and the tactical gear off of her. “Aapne Arjun ko bola bhi nahi that I could’ve had it?” 

“You would’ve had it.” Bansal assured her that it was not at all about the confidence within her skill set, “Target dur tha, causality risk was too much.” 

“He was right THERE! RIGHT THERE!” All she was good for now was to complain, a golden opportunity slithered away from her hands via a command on the intercom and Bansal, who always pointlessly played big brother for consolation and never when it actually mattered. 

Bansal sighed, crossing his arms as he leant against the table watching her upset body language hurriedly undo all the bullets, he could only imagine what must happen with Arjun when she is already this ill-willed towards himself for not stepping in. “Flight kal raat ki hain?” They were wrapping this mission up, army base could stay on but intelligence could not extend a temporary base for too long. Whether or not a mission is successful they had to retreat in the preset timeline. He tried to shift the conversation for now at least. 

“Subah.” She replied, her mind too occupied with everything else to care about returning. Going back home was the biggest loss of all time, an entire month worth of work just went all in vain because she lost her primary target. 

“Arjun aur baki sab raat ko nikal rahe hain, I’ll tell him to accompany your team to drop you off at the airport.” He offered because he knew Arjun leading this mission would take him nearly all night to wrap all teams up and the two might not get the chance to meet before she returns. 

“Don’t.” She said, she would meet him at home the next day anyways and that too was not something she looked forward to. There was a lot and nothing she had to say to him. “Nahi milna mujhe.” 

Stubborn and rightfully upset, a truly awful combination but he could not go against her wish, “Your call.” 

The debrief took the entire night and the flight back home was sleepless for someone plagued with the heaviness of a failure. 1600 meters. 1600 meters…it was just 1600 meters. 1749 yards. 5247 feet and only 1.5 kilometres, she made these conversions in her head and the numbers were haunting her. 

Back at their home, she had the entire day to dwell in her despair and the failure until Arjun comes back at night. She had left for the mission a month ago and Arjun for the previous week, the familiar whiff of home did not do much comfort. There was an empty feeling walking back into the well managed home, Arjun probably set everything in its precise place before he left for she remembered the house was a mess when she had initially left. The house was always a mess when she lived alone, after marriage it was limited to her room before Arjun would get to it. She could not pay much mind to the domesticity and marital bliss at this moment. 

There was a pile of newspaper she picked up on her entrance, walking further with them filtering out the current day’s newspaper amongst the rest. The first headline read, “IED blast in Kashmir, 3 dead” her heart sank trying to gather the courage to read beyond the headline. It was the smaller segment on the front page, the details were easy for her to trace to the groups involved after having spent a month there. A direct retaliation in less than 24 hours. 

Flipping through news channels, tracking the leads she could remember, connections she knew, newspapers all sprawled out across the room. There were two attacks within the same day and an unofficial number. She felt sick to her stomach. Not realising when the night fell or how many calls she had received from the person who turned the door open. Arjun had well enough braced himself from what Bansal had told him about their interaction and how well he knew his wife, but walking inside their home. The sight of her glued to the news channel, lost within the papers and the screens around her sitting on the floor with her knees resting upright against her crossed arms. 

He set the bag slung over one of his shoulders to the floor, clearing the mess of newspapers and her own maps and papers off the floor to make space for himself to sit beside her and followed her unblinking gaze to the loud news channel reporting of the attack, she barely registered him sitting next to her. After another tense moment of quiet with nothing but the news anchor’s voice in the air, he turned the TV off and turned to face her even though she kept staring at the blank TV, “Thik ho?” Rhetoric but he asked nonetheless. 

Letting out a heavy breath she stood up hoping he would not follow, hoping did her no good for he did follow. Her bag was half emptied in their bedroom as she proceeded to bust herself in emptying it more so. Putting things out of the case, the basic gear, clothes. 

“Tum thak gayi ho, yeh kal bhi toh ho sakta hain.” He pointed out leaning against the door not fully disturbing her space even though every bone in his body twitched to. She did not respond to any of his calls or messages the entire day, would not talk to him even though he was right in front of her, all while she was home after an entire month. 

“1600 metres” She commented finally, the root cause of her punishing silence. A punishment much more internalised towards herself. 

Disappointed he shook her head, when he gave her orders as her attending officer he did not do it as a husband and at the same time he would not want to justify an officer’s call as a husband. “Barish ho rahi rhi, hostage involvement tha aur 1600 metres is over a kilometre.” 

“I was well equipped!” She argued, “barish halki thi aur hostage is irrelevant he would have never taken the shot-“

“Tumhare keh dene se sach nahi ho jata. Koi guarantee nahi thi iss baat me. Pata bhi hai kitni mushkil ho jati if I would have let you take that shot-?” He scoffed and as soon as his vindication began she had lost her interest going back about sorting her stuff. This irked him even more as he walked into their room leaning off the door. “Protocol jo bhi hota hain it is there for a reason.” 

Undoing the chambers of her pistol she removed her wedding ring with it. The hand was too heavy to bear. “Bachpana kyu sar chaddha rakha hain? It’s not supposed to be personal—“ 

“You tell that to the victims’ family?” She spoke staring down at the pistol next to her wedding ring on their bedside table. It was so metaphorically cruel how these things were intertwined because as much as she longed for the solace of her husband’s arm she could not see beyond the officer who she deemed to have made the wrong decision. “It’s not personal?” She finally turned around to face him fully, tears threatening to spill her eyes. 

“Main samajh sakta hoon tum par kya beet rahi hai” he let out, “meri jagah koi aur hota woh bhi tumhe green light nahi deta.” Taking a step towards her with open arms hoping to provide her some form of comfort but she simply shook her head creating more distance between them. 

“Mujhe use jaane dena pada—! Woh saaf nikal gaya aur ab kuch ke bete toh kabhi ghar wapas nahi lautenge.” She broke down entirely, the entire day of watching news restlessly catching up to her nervous system, the names, attack locations, probable suspects they couldn’t even locate which group even though they all had same ties, the visuals of crying families, more funerals in upcoming days. 

Before her knees could give out and have her fall to the floor he set out his arms to catch her, she was instantly limp against him and he supported her fully with a firm grip against her. Her sob filled the room as he slowly brought the two of them to the floor, she clung to him as he caressed her head with one of his hands, kissing the top of her head he straddled her on his lap. “I wouldn’t have missed-!” She choked on her words crying against his chest. 

“I know…” he emphasised with a kiss atop her head, rubbing her back over and over to keep her grounded in this moment, not wanting the pain to let her slip away from him. This job can break a person down to their spirits, to their conscience and as long as it was her, in pieces, he would always be there to hold her in all possible sense. Beyond reasoning and practicality, it was just her Arjun and his Y/n. 

That recollection did not come like any other, it came like a blow. Because she had been in this exact moment before, following orders had once set her to an unshakeable failure. She knew what the flight would feel like, the home would feel like a house followed by a lifetime of unachieving  aberration of whatever job she was put on. 

And that was it. She did decide to leave, no matter what it meant for her. What good is her own safety if the emotional avalanche after this was to eat her alive. “Tum dhyan rakh paaogi kya apna?” She asked to confirm with Yalina, things seemed to become clearer in her head. 

Yalina’s eyes lit up, she nodded enthusiastically “Bilkul.” There was a hesitation in the other woman’s eyes so Yalina gripped her hands tighter to help her gain assurance. 

She further explained Yalina more details of where to go once they land, some numbers which she already had. Who to contact, what to answer for immigration everything down to the T. Yalina was gaining that from her for the third time but she let her go through with the retelling of the same information. A parting hug, tight and eyes shut in a hope of a sooner return. “Sambhal lena?” Yalina asked her, but it was an answerless question. 

Before leaving y/n once leaned down to Zayan’s level, who was engrossed in his comic for this interaction. “Bahadur bacche ho na?” She ran her hand through his hair lovingly as he nodded, “Bahadur bacche kisi ko tanng nahi karte…waada karo bahadur banoge?” 

“Waada.” Zayan happily shrugged for it seemed no big deal to him. 

“Agli baar jab milenge… toh aapki pasand ki saari mithaiyan lekar aayenge, waada.” She made the final promise to the little one and as he hugged her with her tiny hands she looked at Yalina behind his shoulders, hopefulness with a hint of fright lingered in her eyes. 

Getting out of the airport would be easy but vanishing was difficult, she had to leave no trace behind for post-investigations. The restroom was in a CCTV black spot from behind their seats, she followed the mark up to the restroom. Changing out of her clothes to another pair and covered her face completely before leaving her clothes in the bin and out of the restroom. 

Becoming ghost in a public place such as an airport was not the most difficult for someone with her skillset. Even with a heavy surveillance. She had borrowed Yalina’s phone off of her to make her arrangements once outside, knowing exactly who to call. 

The man she made the call to was not as happy with this turn of events either, she was supposed to leave. But well in this line you deal with the cards you are dealt with, “Gaadi bhejta hu baccha, fauran nikal jao. Main sambhal lunga.” Jameel’s voice gave her the confirmation of using her trump card well enough. It would not be breach of protocol if she had another senior officer backing her. 

She didn’t have a long list of things she would need to save the assets. With a car he had already provided, precise location of Hamza’s phone told her well enough exactly where she needed to be and her ‘brother’ Rizwan was generous enough to provide her with an M110. 

It was an impossible plan but then again, this is an impossible life to lead. She parked the car a bit far off from Hamza’s coordinates on the cargo yard, it had been a bumpy ride but she made it nonetheless and the area provided a discretion for the perfect set up. 

Climbing up the length of one of the cargos, she set her station up after spotting the commotion of the men. Racing against time she was able to keep her focus narrow. It was only when she put herself in the prone position she was able to see how the SP had the two. It seemed to be a bloody fight against the task force, the two were rather injured from their prior encounter. 

Hamza had his arms held up against the man whilst, SP Aslam held the gun to Arjun’s head as leverage. It was a delicate situation. She could see through her overwatch, that he made no attempt to free from his grasp. As if this was a fate he’d accepted because he would anyways die than provide their task force with any information. 

The range card from when she parked her car told her how far off she was from the target already. It all felt eerily similar. But she could not pay much mind to the semblance or the situation with her heart beating in her ears. Roughly the same distance. She would have made it that day, she would make it today. She had told him she would not have missed, he told her he knew. She won’t miss. 

Her train of thought did not have the privilege of time to carry on. With a deep airless breath in she emptied away every other sound. Closing her eyes once she visualised the angle, the sight and her target. When she looked through her alignment, it was proper, she worked out an angle that even with slight movement from either of them she would not miss her target.

There was blood and an immediate release of grip over Arjun’s neck, the blood splattered on the ground with a thud as the bullet went right through the SP. It felt like she could breathe again, as if for the first time. Triumphant smirk adored her face as she sat back up, packing her gear up. Running an alcohol swab on the entire thing to remove her traces from it. She held it in her hands with the barrier of the wipe and came back down to her car. 

The men stood momentarily shocked, the swift unexpectedness of the moment threw them off their guard. The two shot the SP again, just to make sure but more so for vengeance of those he had wrongfully put to an end. Almost as if in an instant the tires screeched where they stood, it was her. It dawned on him just then but who else wouldn’t miss such an impossible target if not for her. 

Getting out of the car she rushed to him, a sigh of relief escaping her when she put her hurried arms around him. His blood tainting her entire shirt but she could not care less. “Andar baitho, jaldi.” she told the two, cutting the reunion brief. 

“Aap kya kar rahi hain yaha” as glad as he was for the short comfort of her around him it was swept away from him just as soon when the unsettled feeling of her not being on her flight came in. 

By then Hamza had already walked to the car and she did not want to waste time in explanations, “new protocol.” Was all she offered and hurried to the driving seat. Begrudgingly he sat in the passenger seat. She did not miss, he thought to himself whilst looking at her. 

She met his eyes, there was lightness in them. The same one in hers despite their circumstances. A smile that did not reach lips but only his eyes spoke to her what he was thinking. You did not miss. It was out of the question for her. How could I miss? It was you. 

The long drive back out the forest route, her intent was growing clearer and clearer and all he could do was stay put in the passenger seat, watching her face that had no hesitation or regret for what she about to do. Two of them, in her place. He was to go back home whilst leaving her here. As if. 

By the time they got to the air base it was already dark outside but a darker day was behind them. He got out first and she followed but only to confirm the correct jet, “Yahi hai...ye aapko ghar le jayega.” She said referring to the jet behind her awaiting the agents to rescue. 

“Aapke bina nahi ja rahe.” He spoke with a clarity of a fact not of negotiation. 

“Waqt aapko sambhal lega…” she told him, having been in his place she could tell what the desperation was like, to fight against obligation and duty that is not yours. Watch the love of your life make a sacrifice you would rather make for yourself. 

“Aapse bahut hi kam himmat hain hummein, aapki tarah ye sab nahi jhela jaayega, aap hamare saath lautiye warna hum nahi jaa rahe.” It was not something he could not opt out of, it is what he told himself to reason. 

“Aap mana nahi kar sakte...jaante hain na? Order aapke liye hain, wapas jaa kar brief-“ she was about to go on when he interrupted her. 

“Yaaha kya hi karegi aap?” In his tone there was no condescension only blind desperation to bargain for a better life. For her life, her. 

“Rizwan hain abhi yaaha, behen hain unki…” both of them disappearing would ultimately rise suspicion for Rizwan and his posting here. 

“Toh hum wapas reh jaate hain, ek naya odha late hain, nayi post” he would gladly live this hell. Choose this hell over and over again if it meant being close to her, keeping her safe. Not that she needed him to keep herself safe, if anything he needed her meow to stay alive. And that was it. He needed her to stay alive. 

It pained all the same as it did to not leave, as much as it did to see his agony. She would not bid him goodbye with tears, for he who considered her the sunlight in his veins she could not offer him anything lesser than her smile because it was going to be the last one in a long while. She placed her hand on the side of his face, coming a full circle with him bidding her a farewell the same way. She held his face within both her hands. 

A car pulling up with a fast break pulled them out of their trance. Arjun was stunned and back on his guard again hurt when Jameel sahab came out his body language relaxed. Probably to see them off. “Bade behaya ho tum! Apni dulhan ko yahin chhod kar nikalne ka irada hai kya?“ the animated man’s voice roared between them as he hurried closer to the pair. 

Leaving them confused and more so her, because there was no plan for her leaving with them. The order was just for two agents and when she called from the airport the initial plan never mentioned her leaving. All the more she couldn’t, they were planning to fake the major’s death in an explosion how come she would be missing overnight? “Kya?” Was all she could ask. 

“Major sahab ki biwi toh bhai…ghar jaalne ke saath hi upar rawana ho gayi, kya hi keh sakte hain. Bhai Rizwan bechara, behen aur behnoi dono ko ek saath kho diya.” He explained, he was the one who had set fire to the manor to set a framework that the wife’s ashes would never be found and hence no issue of her being missing. 

“Par…humnein toh koi ghar nahi jalaya?” She proposed, puzzled because as far as she remembered when they put Omar to his demise in the morning they had not burnt the house whilst leaving. 

“Ab tumnein toh koi janaza bhi nahi dekha…iska matlab yeh thodi ke nahi hua. Main toh abhi...abhi wahin se aa raha hoon!! Wo Rizwan baccha kya bilakh-bilakh kar ro raha tha wo janaze par..." Jameel briefed them in his lively manner. His masterstroke of work really. Arjun was speechless, he could not believe this and no words but a shakily heavy breath came to him. “Ab jaa oye, inni sohni kuddi nu aise intezar me rakhna acchi baat nahi.” He told Arjun, patting his shoulder, it was bittersweet to lose an accomplice of many years. 

“Shukriya.” He could muster out with a heavy heart and Jameel, in his fatherly way refused to accept gratitude that was his duty. Placing a hand on y/n’s head, bestowing a parting blessing upon her Jameel then stood by his car. 

Off they went and he watched. A new life awaited those who had spent their entire life for the safekeeping of their country. 

Arjun didn’t let go off her hand the entire flight as if he needed a proof she was truly here, truly going back. Their other comrade had been out of it on painkillers after having his wounds checked out, the medics worked on Arjun too but he refused the painkillers as to not sleep. She had dozed off against his shoulder with their hands intertwined and he could not afford to fall asleep. Meaning to cherish every single second of this, life from this point forward. He would only be this, a man with the love of his life peacefully asleep against his shoulder. Not the Major not even Arjun, he was simply her husband. 

If you are not visiting, welcome home. They don’t say so in army jet planes of course but all of them surely heard it in one way or another. She followed behind him when he took his first step out the door, a cast against on his broken wrist, wounded body and face, sleeplessness on him and she was merely covered in his dried blood. But when the early morning’s sun came upon their face it felt like a rebirth. Arjun did not take support of the railings to climb down, simply her hand in his and a slow pace downward. 

Jaskirat, took his time at the top of the stairs, taking in the whiff of his homeland. It was as if he was not broken in any sense. The physical wounds would heal in no time and he could think of no thoughts that would harm him as the wind carried the weight of what was his, home. 

She could have never imagined this, walking back home with his arm enlaced in hers. There were times where she would not even dare to dream of him let alone the possibility of such a return. A beautiful permanence of domestic bliss awaited them and their homeland was safe. She stopped in her tracks when the very third step he took on the land made him stop and kneel, not out of pain or exhaustion. 

Arjun was overcome with the sweetness of this reality, the land he was walking on was his own as was his life, his life was the hand intertwined in his hand. So he knelt. To worship the ground was his bharat, to worship the luck pressed upon him, gratitude to the gods and the godsend that his lover was. Y/n knelt beside him, holding his broad figure as best she could with her one free hand because he kept a firm grip on the other one. 

This was it. Their watch was over and the brave were finally home. 

---

OMFG man I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it. I truly poured my heart and soul into this one and had it not been for the love and appreciation you all showered me with id have never had the motivation. I am not sure if the end sits well with everyone as it does with me so pls pls pls let me know.

might do an epilogue of their domestic life, im open to suggestions as well!!!! You can always req and more stuff for other Arjun characters coming pls stick around and dont forget to hydrate xx

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I'm too shy so Ima be anonymous. Better yet. I shall become the '🦊'. Yes. Okay, BYE.

i mish u 😔

major Iqbal (Indian agent) x wife!reader

series list. read other parts here ! next.

Word count: 5.3k+ words

warnings: angst, canon type violence / hurt comfort dw.

I should also be a warning the way I write like ass and update inconsistently but oh well

It was later part of the afternoon by the time he got to keep his promise of an early return for his wife. It had not even been a whole day since the events of the earlier night which had struck her with sickness, he had hoped she would find some rest at least after the doctor’s prescribed dosage. Most of his day went as if on autopilot, overly weary about her condition at home whilst engaging within his work.

The ride home could not get any longer but eventually as the sun seemed to shine as much as it could for the first tea of the evening. A bright yellow hue over the day for it was about to end soon and have its last moments in the sun. He for one was glad, to have made it to the excruciatingly long end of it. Being apart from her even in usual circumstances made him impatient enough as it is, for her in recovery state had him on edge with his wits the entire day.

Making his way up the small steps of the manor, first to remove his shoes. Hoping to make the action as quick as he could so he could race up the stairs and check on her. Part of hoping she is in a good sleep for he knew she barely slept a wink last night yet for selfish reasonings he would have liked to approach her awake, get a soft conversation flowing. “Major sahab” a house help rushed to him before he even entered the house fully, “Woh Omar sahab aaye thein—unko station le kar gaye hain…aapko phone karne ke liye mana kiya tha.”

He wanted to grab the messenger by the collar and yell some sense into him, that’s how much of rage coursed through him in simply the matter of seconds when he got to know of her being taken in for questioning. Without his knowledge. Livid, weary and with no time to spare he traced his steps back to the car with a sense of hurry.

-

“Tabiyat nazim nahi hain aapki aaj?” The agent asked leaning against the table across from where she sat, it was a questioning room. Somewhat low budget almost like everything else given the country’s state but she did not pay much mind to it.

“Ji” she kept her answer curt, with nothing but the feverish tenseness in her face and the agitation of being brought here and made to wait for questioning in her fever struck state. To some part she was almost glad for the bloodshot eyes and sickly paleness that her condition provided her for now, being out of health kept her from putting on an unbothered and non panicky face.

“Achanak se kharab ho gayi aapki tabiyat nahi?” Omar pressed, for he had seen her attend the party in perfect health, running after the young boy, her newly befriended Yalina’s son. She seemed just fine the previous night.

She could conclude what exactly he was getting at and she walked right into it, not wanting to conceal something not worth hiding, “Major sahab ne bhi yahi kaha, unke mutabiq se toh hum zyada hi kamzor dil ke hain.” she sniffled shifting her position, overly calm.

“Aurtein aksar hoti hi hai” he agreed with her at the weak heart for gore in women. “Waise aap waha kaise aai thi kal rat?”

“Maaf kariyega par hum kab aaye, kaise aaye, kab nikle sari baatein kal aur aaj dono din aapke sub inspectors ko bata chuke hain.” She carried a constructed sense of confidence and agitation for such a petty investigation as if in truth she had nothing to hide. She had to believe it herself to make the make-belief real.

“Ab protocol hain toh hain.” He sighed uncrossing his arms, picking up her file to go over her statements from the previous night and what she had told to his subordinates prior to this questioning. There was a pointless extension, making her wait over two hours to see if she would break. He hummed going over the file, “Aap major sahab ki pehchan me main kaise hain?”

“Hamare bhai ne Hamza bhai ki pehchan se seedha nikah hi tai kar diya.” She explained, composed and calculated. For she had not met the man before their wedding day, not in this world at least.

“In sab se pehle aap kaha thi?” He questioned as if dangling suspicion in surety.

“—London.”

“London me kiske yahan?”

Taking a brief second, as if reflecting in misery and not considering her answer like a test to pass “—Bhai aur hamare saare rishtedaar wahi rehte hain. Walidain ka toh bachpan mein hi inteqal ho gaya tha, bhai ne hi humein pala tha phir unhone gang join ki toh humein London bhej diya.” She kept the explanation brief yet not in a way that would seem rehearsed. Her story was iron clad, her papers said so and tragedy is easy to narrate and rather believable. Of course it was believable, India’s sharpest minds fabricated the script. All she had to do was play her part right.

“Aap toh padhi likhi bhi hain.” He commented tilting his head as if pondering.

“Ji.” She responded, clutching her arms against herself for it was not warm enough for her fever temperature against the normal temperature of the room. Nonetheless it was just a physical indication of being sick and not her character that she was playing up to a T. She could withstand worse than this.

“Toh aise aadmi se jinse aap mili bhi nahi kabhi, unse sidha nikah kar liya?” It was a doubt to him how someone so hyper modern with a prestigious education would marry in a backwards, traditional way like this.

“Aise aadmi?” She repeated his word as if offended only so she could divert the point of his statement. “Major sahab koi gair-zaroori shakhs thodi na hain?” Rhetorically proposed so he would pivot.

“Mera woh matlab nahi tha.” He couldn’t pinpoint if she was deliberately ever so husband-loving or twisting with his words “Aap London me sab chhod kar aayi, major sahab se na koi jaan pehchan aur shauhar bana liya.”

“Hamare bhai ne badi mushkil haalato me humko bada kiya hain, unhone tai kiya ho toh na hum mana kar sakte hain aur na unka faisla galat hota hamare liye.” She emphasised the importance of her brother’s influence in all major decisions of her life and how she could not avoid it even by will. Hoping the traditionalism would raise no further doubts.

“Aapke bhai major sahab ki pehchan me kaise aaye?” He pressed further.

This could get slippery, she thought to herself. Naming Hamza would only raise more links and connections within their network should even one of them be under radar, but she could not not name Hamza for the man already knew her brother’s right handedness with Hamza, “Ek din bhai ke saath major sahab koi kam se ja rahe the…London me hamari bhanji ki salgiraah toh sajwat, taiyari, sab bhai ko dikhane ke liye video call chal raha tha…ab uss waqt pata nahi tha woh kaam me major sahab ke saath the aur hum zidd bitha kar baithe the ki bhai ko hamari mehnat dikha kar manenge!” A story out of thin air that never happened but a humbly idiotic chatterbox woman not picking up on context clues was better than naming Hamza and the gang ties, as if she was shielded from all that, it would raise more questions than she was willing to answer about Rizwan and Hamza, “bhai ne toh hume baad mein bataya ki major sahab ne pehli baar humein tab hi phone pe dekha tha, aur wahi se rishte ke baat unhone samne se ki.” She shrugged, simplistic, compulsive and characteristic lie. Even delivered the story as through elated to share it, the girlish detailing making her seem more reliable.

Omar took a deep breath, to think someone would be breakable at least in a feverish state. The fact that she wasn’t favoured more in the fact that she probably had nothing in truth to be broken a story out of, “Accha…” he nodded rubbing his eyes out of exhaustion with her. Perhaps she was the docile lady wife in actuality and he wasted his time for nothing. “Hamza ko kaise jaante hai aapke Rizwan bhai?” Last of the questions he had but he knew somewhere that he would get nothing from her on anything.

He already knows how and there was a slight chance that he knew wether or not she was aware of the extent of their involvement so she could not play dumb like, ‘Hume nahi pata’ or ‘hummein kabhi pucha nahi’ but at the same time if she said anything other than being oblivious of it he could ask more questions and eventually form a link. Before she could think of something and answer the door to the interrogation room slammed open with a thud against the wall. Him.

All he did was lay his eyes at her once, she looked cold, weak and even more tired than he had left her. That was all he needed to outright lunge at Omar, “Haramkhor” he yelled grabbing the man by his collar giving him a tight one across the face. There was little to no time left for Omar to even comprehend where this aggression came upon him from nowhere. His promise of an early return for his wife.

“Major-“ he couldn’t even get the title out in a mutter of the word as his face was dragged into the ground.

“Aaj marega mere haathon tu.” The major punctuated each word with a thrashing. “Hamari ijazat ke bina hamari biwi ko talab karne ki himmat kaise hui?!“ his anger was reaching new roofs, he could not even get himself to look in her direction even. It felt as if he had failed her, the fact that she was in wretched country was a failing in itself and he repeatedly failed to protect her, this bastard ought to pay and all he saw was red.

As for her she stood to the side, standing up from her seat with a tight grip on the table against her dizziness and probable imbalance. The whole inaction was somewhat an overreaction to her, why would a major lose his composure like this. That too within a station. But she knew that for the most part this wasn’t the major but the husband. “Major Sahab-“ she tried to coax him to stop from beating the agent bloody to a pulp but it was of no use. Calling in reinforcements from the other officers at the station, they finally managed to pull the Major off of Omar. He was too far gone, kicking the man curled up on the floor as they yanked him away. “Bas kariye” she added her hand to his shoulder amongst a the few officers pulling him away.

Out of breath from all the exertion of beating the agent who dared inconvenience his wife, he glared at the whimpering bastard on the floor despite the hands pulling him away. When his line of vision finally fell upon her his gaze softened in a moment, her hands feebly trying to pry him away after the other officers scattered across the room still alert in the case he rages out again. He took her by her wrists, her temperature flaring to touch. In a swift motion he unbuttoned his coat, draping it over her shoulders to shield her from the feverish cold.

She was in no position of bodily liberty to deny the warmth of his coat despite him overdoing it, creating a scene. Making some space between the two she moved away, properly holding the coat against her. “Aap thik hain?” He asked but she only nodded in response meaning to keep her answers as short as possible and be out of here quick. Before he could worry over her further, SP Aslam walked in, seemingly briefed of what had happened before he came upon the scene for he was not shocked. A brief glance between the Major and the SP, then he looked at the missus, dazed and out of it. “Iska istifah chahiye humein, aaj shaam tak.” The major demanded in a gravelly careless tone, it was a grace he was giving Omar that he was letting him off with only a resignation. Before SP could even respond, even if he did it would not work if it was not in full agreement with his demand, Major took his lady wife by the hand and walked out, without a goodbye or a proper follow-up for his demand. His priorities and proprieties were different with her hand in his.

-

There was no point in talking to him with all the house help present and he was in no mood to listen to her concerns when she was in an unfit state to even stand upright without being dizzy. Sick with grief and tired of the miseries from the day, she retreated to bed the moment they got home. He stayed at her bedside, getting the staff to bring forth warm water with a cloth for her forehead. He tended to her himself, not trusting the maids to take care of her even with such a trivial task as this. A part of him was surprise she let him. However vulnerable she felt last night was different from her usual self, it was a shock and a big tragedy of losing Aalam Bhai. As quick as she was to gather herself back, she still let him. And he was glad nonetheless. Simply staring at her in a gentle fondness of a man who had been starved of his favourite painting for all of his life. Changing the cloth over her forehead again and again, should she toss and turn in the process of wanting to fall asleep he would simply walk across the bed and tend to her then. Not wanting to get her fever worse.

“Aap aaram karne denge ya nahi?!” Finally she had reached her breaking point with him after he had asked the house help to change the warm water for the fourth time.

A soft apology and an understood tiredness from his end, made him stop with changing the cloth over her forehead. It was hindering her sleepy state. “Aaram kariye, hum yahi hain.” Complying to her wishes of not wanting the warm cloth on her forehead anymore he helped her pull the covers over herself tighter.

Even after that, he moved his hand caressing her head gently. The same hands which beat a police officer bloody over the fact that she was taken in for questioning, it was such an unlawful offence to him personally. His lady love was taken in for questioning without a note to him in such a poor health, after everything she had been through in barely twenty four hours. His hands could hold a set of spikes through and through yet find precise softness to run his fingers through her hair if it meant for soothing her, so caressing her head after such a violent evening was not difficult for him. Some days he would introspect if it was all his hands were meant for. Same couldn’t be said for her, it was not the violence that was jarring to her. She knew what this profession called for, it was the mindless intent. Which was an entirely different conversation she would have to brace herself for.

Prying his hand away from her head as he attempted to coax her to sleep, she didn’t move it away entirely just held her hand in his, a still motion. A reassurance of his presence she could not afford or ask for or even have, there was just this need for a grounding grip in the face of such devastation. The visions running behind her eyes of Aalam bhai’s death, the rigorous questioning…all the blood…she needed a hold. The fact that he was just around was a happenstance. The fact that his hand holding hers, watching over her sleep felt like the safest place in the world was something she did not want to pay much mind to.

By the time she woke up, the last previous course of her antibiotics had taken its toll on her to have her feel better. It was dinner time in the house, she remembered him slowly turning on the big lamps and lights of the room coaxing her to wake up for her next course of meds and dinner. By the time she eventually did, he had retreated downstairs even that she could recall from her semi awake state.

Walking her slow steps downstairs she found the house devoid of the staff, perfect, she could now have her words with him without restrictions of secrecy. “Tabiyat kaisi hain?” He could recognise her steps as if he had eyes at the back of his head.

She made a slow pace to the kitchen where he was working on something she did not want to ask about, “Behtar.” Responding, she sat on the edge of the counter.

“Accha?” He questioned, moving one hand to her forehead, back and forth then moving lower to her neck to check her temperature for himself. “Badan toh ab bhi garam hain aapka.”

“Pehle se behtar lag raha hain.” She shrugged highlighting her betterment despite her skin still feeling warm to touch. He did not press further, instead pushed forward a glass with some sort of liquid, probably for her cold and he simply gestured her to drink it with his eyebrows which she ignored, the black liquid as healthy as it looked was not worth the taste she could imagine. She looked around once just to confirm the staff had left, “aaj station pe jo hua-“

“Uss baare mein hum baat na hi karein toh accha hain.” He clarified not wanting to conjure the visuals and what he felt about the facade. His hands moved methodically in wrapping up the mess of the decoction he had made for her.

“Kyun?” His refraining made her want to talk about it even more. God knows she already had an earful to tell him. “Aapki bewakoofi se sharam aa rahi hain?” It would be a lie if she were to say she did not enjoy pointing out the flaws in his judgement.

This profession as it is demanded a whole lot of patience and when it came to her, it was infinite. However she never failed to test it. “Bewakoofi?” He asked, knowing she was dying to explain her point to him.

“Station me beech interrogation aa kar, officer ke saath maar-peet karna bewakoofi nahi?” She asked, the corner of her lips moving a bit to the side offering an apologetic smile that she had to be the one to relay this enlightening on him.

“Uski zurrat kaise huyi iss haalat me aapko ghar se utha kar sawal jawab kare aap se? Woh bhi humein bina bataye.” He scoffed, there was nothing remorseful about his tone. He would surely do it again for her.

The fact that he didn’t believe he was being assertive beyond necessity was jarring, “Hum pein shak tha iss liye hume bulaya tha. Aapki harkat ki wajah se aap bhar bhi shak hoga yeh aapne nahi socha?”

“—Dekh lenge jab hoga tab.”

“Har baat aapke saath jhagda kar ke nahi niptana, aapko kuch keh rahe hain toh baat ko samjha karein.” She oversimplified her intent for him.

Quite the words. Coming from someone who makes everything an argument and is difficult to reason with. However he did not say it out loud, with a sigh he faced her fully, “Kya samjhe hum? Aapki haalat kal raat aapne dekhi hoti toh aap bhi woh hi karti jo humne kiya.”

Always so personal. “Na toh hum aapki biwi hain na Major sahab ki, aap jitna jaldi yeh farq samjhenge aapke liye utna hi behtar hoga.” It was difficult to let out, but he needed to hear it nonetheless. He was on a downward overprotective husband spiral about every aspect of this mission. Attempting to leave, her gripped her by her arm stopping her in her tracks, his grip was gentle.

“Humse aankhein mila kar wapas kahengi?” It was neither a request nor a demand, it was simply him highlighting ridiculousness of what she implied.

Surely she couldn’t. She couldn’t offer him that even on command. But she met his eyes nonetheless and the treacherous globes spoke much more than she wanted to be let known. “Aap apne haalat hi zyada mushkil kar rahe hain.”

It was no secret to him that his feelings were getting in the way of this mission, but it was so trivial to him. She was his home and he was here fighting for the safety for his homeland, love could be termed to be the death of duty but then did his duty not lay unto his love all the same? “Ab yeh natak humse aur nahi hoga…” he breathed out, a weariness in his voice “Bahut hi mar-mar ke aapki bemaujudgi se waqif huye thein, kal jab puri raat bukhar me aap kaanp rahi thi, aapki ruh tuti thi—jaise yeh kaam insaan ke saath kar sakti hain. Itni battar haalat me bhi woh haramzade ne hamari ijazat ke bagair aapse pooch-taach karne ki jurrat ki? Aap hume iss baat me galat samjhe yah woh khudko sahi; Koi farak nahi padta hume…hamari biwi aap kudh ko maane ya nahi, hamari toh aap rahengi hi. Aapke saath kuch galat hona humse bardhasht hota nahi, na hum bardhasht karenge.”

It was difficult to tear her eyes away from his even if it was too much to withhold. Tears brimmed his eyes yet did not fall upon, it made her want to fall apart for she could not recall a time she had ever seen tears in his eyes. There were no words she could offer him to ease his heart or the cruel time line he had to live out, a forgiveness he couldn’t even dare ask of her. And she wasn’t sure that even if she gave it he would deem himself worthy enough to receive it. Absent minded, her hands traced up to his face, holding him gently.

He eased into her touch instinctively, as though her hands were more familiar than his own skin. Her feather touch against the brim of his eyes wiped the unshed tears away, so he could be forced to meet her eyes properly. She wanted to let it be known to him rather heavily, an emphasised weight that she was doing what she was about to. Taking his face closer to her own, leaning against his face, a ginger touch against his jawline as she brought her lips close to his. Closing the gap between the two of them with much ease, lips brushing onto his as their past seemed to slip away.

He wasted no time to wrap her into his arms, enveloping her entire figure against his chest without breaking the kiss. She could simply put her hands against his shoulders to ground herself since he had fully sheathed her in the distant familiarity of his arms and it felt like their first time.

Eventually the kiss came to an end so the two could look at each other, he just wanted a confirmation that she was real, that he wasn’t imagining this. Both or them sunk to the floor, leaning against the kitchen cabinet whilst still holding her in his arms. A silent comprehension of all the grievances and unhealed instances that brought them where they were. There was so much to be said that nothing could be spoken into existence of this delicate moment, she had her arm wrapped around his bicep and her head resting on his shoulders and all he could think about was the times he thought there would be nothing in front of him for everything that was behind him. And there still wasn’t, anything in front of him just his entire world by his side.

What would become of them. What had become of them. These weren’t questions but answers that would ruin the cocoon of solace the two were in.

—

Part 6

Literally posting this from Delhi airport rn they about to board my ass but I gotta post this first

I know its been a while and I’m terribly sorry!!! Pls reach out if I’ve missed something for I am your friend even if I’ve been MIA😛😛😛

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