Teri ye adaa, janiye
tujhe na pata, janiye
hai aisa nasha, janiye
mere dil ko paar karay...

"Passenger Announcement: Flight KH487 of KL Airlines to Chicago is now boarding at Gate 42."

Heels clacked, dress shoes thudded, and the constant rhythmic hum of cabin bags being wheeled across the marble floors could be heard if one listened closely to rush around Tokyo International Airport. Sipping a lukewarm macchiato with an extra shot of Belgian chocolate, Meerab walked in that purposeful way which seemed to overcome all flight crew when in an airport. You had places to go, planes to attend to and flights to board, and so after a little time as cabin crew, the airport began to feel like an old friend. You navigated them, even ones you were visiting for the first time, with confidence and a prideful purpose, and it always helped when you were in a popular city with an aesthetically pleasing airport.

Tokyo was one such place. Decked to the nines with its New Year's décor, the post-Christmas lull was more than made up for by the anticipation and rush for the impending New Year's Eve in a few hours. Meerab licked her lips clean of the chocolate froth and smiled at a family of four running to make it to their gate on time. Designed as one long rectangular building, the airport afforded you a lengthy look at its interior if you were making your way from one side to the other, and her walk was still far from over. The macchiato soothed her slightly sluggish body, which was practically done with its menstruation, and the residual tiredness from the hectic schedule of Tokyo over the past three days was lessened by the caffeine boost.

Buzz

Her phone vibrated in her blazer pocket but her stride didn't pause. Her hands were occupied with her Chanel carry-on and the macchiato, so she downed the rest of the lukewarm beverage and smoothly disposed of it in the next bin she spied. Still walking briskly to her gate, her hand dipped into the pocket and fished out her phone, her eyes still on the path ahead. A quick look down at the notifications on the lock screen showed it was a selfie from Saba, who was currently enjoying a Christmassy New York on duty. Meerab's eyes slid down to the WhatsApp messeges, which she swiped right to remove and then did a quick peek up to ensure her path was still clear. Eyes on the phone again, she wandered lower and frowned. An unidentified symbol presented with a notification at the very bottom. It had arrived thirty-three minutes ago, when she must've been in security. Frowning and with a quick look up in front of her, she was back to the screen and clicked on the notification.

And finally, Meerab's strong stride halted.

Dubai. ETA 22:00. Car outside Mandarin @ 21:55

Meerab blinked owlishly at the confusingly concise words and numbers on the screen, the macchiato seeming a little inefficient in waking her up that morning. Despite the mysterious and rather confusing message, it wasn't that which had stopped her short. It was what was written at the top of the screen, directly above the message.

You are in conversation with Captain M. S. Khan

She had a very good idea of who Captain M. S. Khan was and now the unidentified symbol made made sense too. It was a tiny black Phoenix rising from the ashes, much similar to how this certain Captain was making his way back into her personal life. She scanned the message again.

Live link

Her thumb pressed the little attachment symbol at the bottom and realised this was how he'd known she would be in Dubai this evening. It was a live link of his flight routes, and not that she was surprised by his reach and connections anymore, hers as well. Clicking on the tab showing his, which was much more sparse than hers since he only flew occasionally and whenever he felt like it, her heart did a little kick when his destination for that evening popped up in the 'Upcoming Flights' section.

London -> Dubai. 7 hours. Scheduled to land at 22.00.

Meerab must've stood in the middle of Tokyo International for a good five minutes scouring every detail in and around the mysterious message. Her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing, she gave it one last glance and then clicked the screen off, pocketing the phone. Her body thrummed as she resumed her walk across to the gate, and as her traitorous mind conjured highly inappropriate images of all sorts, her lips were tightly pursed and her game face on. Her body performed all the usual internal acrobatics at the sight of his name and the thought of him, and she let it. Why put a damper on her own little kicks?

She'd get down to business and show him Dubai. ETA 22:00. Car outside Mandarin @ 21:55 later.

Captain Murtasim Khan had flown, landed and parked his plane with a large section of his brain and a very particular section of his body fixated on a gorgeous, dark eyed brunette who was meant to be waiting for him at the Burj Al Arab. When she wasn't, he very naturally wasn't too pleased.

Dubai was one of the few placed where Murtasim didn't stay in the Phoenix appointed hotel. In Dubai, that was Mandarin Oriental, Jumeirah.

The other five star hotel was by no means cheap digs, but in a Dubai which was now being taken over by Jumeirah's palm trees, sandy paths and a heavy tourist vibe, Murtasim preferred the quiet and timeless opulence of the old Dubai, and what was the crown jewel of the old Dubai if not the most luxurious Middle Eastern hotel known to man?

It didn't seem too luxurious or as relaxing as it usually was today. Walking into the palatial, gold-studded hotel that the Arabs had made a symbol of their shocking wealth, the familiar surroundings hadn't felt the same as they'd always did. That had started off in a good way; a good, exciting kind of different, and surprising too since it took a lot to excite him after all these years of having seen almost every major corner of the world. Of course, now he had Meerab to look forward to. It had then veered into confusion, annoyance and was now right in the 'punching a wall' category. Of course in the middle of arriving, searching and not finding this missing brunette, worry had taken over. Had she landed? Had she even taken the flight at all? Was she okay and why wasn't she where she was supposed to be?

As he'd whipped out his phone to call her, he'd halted as a message had arrived around the time he'd landed.

You have a new message from Miss Meerab W. Ahmed:

It was a photo of a cocktail, with a strawberry, cocktail umbrella and all, placed on a table. A sandy outdoor seating space could be seen just ahead and a message written underneath the picture.

Have a nice time.

Indulgently annoyed, that was the special brand of treatment Murtasim Khan reserved just for his wife. It was the only person in the world who could illicit such restraint from him and even he hadn't known until recently. If she knew or not was yet to be seen, but seeing the way she managed to light a fire underneath him from time to time, it was safe to say she either knew or just didn't care about the consequences of his wrath.

His indulgent annoyance had begun the second he had read her irritatingly casual message, had simmered as he'd been checked into his suite and changed out of his Captain's uniform and had bubbled dangerously as he'd grabbed the keys to his waiting Mercedes and driven down to Jumeirah like there was a devil on his tail. The car was left was to the valet and as soon as he'd entered the lobby of the Mandarin Oriental Jumeirah, Murtasim' eyes scanned the entire area around him, his body honed to finding the one thing he'd needed since he'd kissed her at the lift in his foyer and left for London.

Meerab knew the second he had entered the beach and bar area on the side of the hotel. She just knew. It was her body's innate response to him as she lifted her head and saw her handsome and visibly ticked off husband stride into sandy paradise.

So Captain M.S. Khan had tracked her down. She looked down at her diamond-studded watch.

22:55

Impressive considering he'd had to de-board a plane, travel to his hotel, which she now knew from Mala was not the Mandarin Oriental, get a lovely surprise, change his clothes and then drive back here. Meerab leaned back into her lounger and swirled the toothpick of strawberries into her virgin strawberry daiquiri, crossing her outreached legs and going back to the New Year's Eve festivities around her.

The bar and beach area was located right on the water and Meerab had been there since she'd changed out of her uniform and come down from her room. It gave her a view of the beach and would give her a direct view of the NYE fireworks later on.

Murtasim's eyes roamed over the dimly lit area. Rows and rows of palm trees provided ample shadows for runaway wives to hide under and the dim lights from the bar areas and near the water were the only saving grace. The New Year's Eve rush was thick, as expected for Dubai, and the damned sand he hated was everywhere.

I swear to God when I find her...

And find her he did. Across the sliding doors he'd entered from, on the other side of the sand closer to the beach, on a lounger lay a lone figure. His eyes had cut through the throng of people and honed in on it. In the darkness, the lithe figure sparkled as rays of the orbiting lights hanging from the ropes above hit the sequined material of the dress on it. Murtasim's eyes narrowed and locked on the figure, dismissing the rest of the room. An elbow poked out from the beach facing lounger, and he could just make out a tall cocktail glass in a small, dainty hand moving up and down.

Eyes wandering down, he scanned the back of a slim shoulder with loose dark waves cascading over it, the arm clad in sequined black and then lower still, his throat dried up as his eyes wandered down the slope of the side, hips and thighs clad in the same sparkly black sequins. Breathtakingly, jaw-droppingly, knee-weakening fitted black sequins. The sequined fabric tightly hugged the thigh and kissed the skin lower and lower underneath it until it finally ended mid-calf. The rest of the calf and ankles were on display in a tantalising contrast to the black. The figure was completed with two dainty feet which swayed to the music in their black barely-there strappy stiletto clad glory.

Murtasim had already known those curves belonged to his wife, laying there on the lounger all blasé, like she was here solely to spend her New Year's Eve on the beach, sipping cocktails and watching the fireworks all night long. But the ankles on display, however unrequired, sealed the deal. He'd kissed every inch of the body lying on that lounger and he knew those dainty ankles like he knew his own name.

His indulgent annoyance momentarily side-tracked and now more indulgent towards other things, his feet moved forward even as his eyes stayed locked on the curves on the display from the side of the lounger. The little walk there was enough for his initial annoyance to return and by the time he was standing over the irritatingly relaxed figure of his New Year's Eve plans, he was back to being supremely pissed off.

"Oh! Good evening, husband."

With her eyes wide and sparkling with faux surprise and very, very real challenge, the minx looked up and greeted him before taking a sip of what he was sure was a sickly sweet concoction involving a certain red berry with a green leafy top.

The little tease...

"Good evening." he said succinctly, his brows knitting into a deep frown at the whole scenario but in particular, at the way her dress fit her like a glove and her body was just reclining casually on the lounger for all to stare at. And people were staring. Three men had walked by on their way over to the bar and done a double take in the dim lighting and it was making Murtasim's teeth clench down in restraint.

"Have a nice time?" he echoed her words, bearing down on her.

She raised her brows and her eyes widened further in mock innocence.

"Yes. Aur tumne mujhe 'you too, Meerab' bhi nahi reply kiya." Her lower lip came out in a pout as she raised the mocking complaint.

"I had planned on having a nice time. In fact nice doesn't cover how nice my time was going to be if you didn't have a damn habit of never being where you're supposed to be." he growled, a scowl threatening to engulf his face.

"Oh?" her mouth formed an 'o' around the straw of her drink as she peered up at him and Murtasim had to keep push down the little tug which the image elicited in his groin.

"Woh message mere liye tha?" she continued, holding the straw away from her face. "My bad. Mujhe tumhara romantic message samajh hi nahi aaya."

Murtasim didn't know what the issue was and why she hadn't taken the car he had sent for her or why she hadn't been at the Burj Al Arab, but his wife's sarcastic tone and 'don't fight me' vibes could be felt across the sea and all the way in Qatar, he was sure. Alarm bells rang in his head but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had her steaming on a lounger and that too looking like she was ready to paint the town red.

"I'm sure it's my fault. After all, tum to ho hi shehzaaday."

The subtle sarcasm continued and Murtasim inwardly winced as she brought up what his mother and almost everyone back home called him.

"Meerab-"

"I'm so sorry, tumne kuch plan kiya huwa tha? Aur mein tumhara itna descriptively poetic note nahi samajh saki."

Oh.

He didn't pretend to understand the chaotic female mind but no one was sharper than Murtasim. It was how he was trained to be, feudally, academically and professionally. She'd only been on 'descriptively poetic' when the ball had dropped and his brows had come down from the demanding look of question his face had been frozen in. She didn't stop there though.

"I should've read between the lines, tumne kitna kuch likha tha..." her voice was just the perfect pitch and so pleasant it could've been a diabetes hazard. She clicked her tongue and gently slapped her temple. "Yaad karnay ki kya zaroorat? I have it right here!"

Murtasim knew nothing good was going to come out of the way her face lit up with mock glee as she put her drink down and picked up her phone. Every cell in his body warned him of danger ahead and he would've tried to diffuse it if she'd let him get a word in.

But Meerab had spent the better part of New Year's Eve stewing in one of the world's most exotic places, which had made exponentially worse, and now just the sight of Murtasim Khan was like red to a bull.

Murtasim watched as the screen came on and even from where he was standing, the Phoenix logo at the top of the screen let him know she was on their chat. Then, as he stood there being humbled, an experience so new that he really didn't know what to do and what he wanted to do, he couldn't do until the woman he'd pissed off was willing to look at him like she wasn't just going to overpay and then order his own security detail to drown him in the sea.

"Ah. Here we go." She cleared her throat. "Dubai. ETA 22:00. Car outside Mandarin @ 21:55." she announced like one would a great joke.

Murtasim's lips twisted as he looked away at the sea with a grimace. It had sounded like a very practical message, which was supposed to be perfectly fine since it was meant to be for the sole purpose of practicality. He knew by the time he'd landed, checked in, changed and then picked her up, it would've been much later into the night. So he'd sent a driver to pick her up and drop her off at his hotel because it wasn't like he was spending the night away from her after seven whole days of not having her. Clearly, his efficient approach had not gone down well with Miss Meerab W. Ahmed aka Mrs Meerab Khan.

"Oh, I'm shocked I didn't melt into a puddle right there in the middle of Tokyo International." she delivered gravely, her eyes mockingly solemn. "Mujhe laga tum mujhe apna koi personal message bhej rahay ho, to remind yourself. Jaise kabhi kabhi Mama mujhe grocery list bhejti hain so she can look at it in the store."

Ouch.

First the shehzaada reference to his mother and now her mother had also joined the conversation. His intimate New Year's Eve was now becoming a family event. Fantastic.

"Meerab, of course ye tumharay liye tha." he began, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at her with exasperated expression.

"Oh? Acha? You mean it was meant to say 'good morning slash hello Meerab slash wife, how are you? slash hope you're well. Would you like to meet me in Dubai tonight on New Year's Eve? I land at ten pm and I'll have a car waiting for you outside your hotel at nine fifty-five.' Is that what you meant?"

Shit.

That was a considerably bigger word count than his message had. Her voice, which had been annoyingly cheery a little while ago had gradually changed tones during the last few sentences and was furiously succinct by the end. Her eyes were now shooting daggers and a tightly pressed pout on her mouth, which was coloured a delicious nude-pink which let the black glitter on her eyelids pop and make her look like walking, talking siren.

"Meerab-"

He was cut off again but not by her this time. as his jaw clenched and his entire body radiated a dangerous, quiet aggression towards yet another man who's eyes dropped to lounger and lingered a little too long, Murtasim realised they were also attracting an audience. The loungers nearest to them were in direct earshot and could probably hear every word.

"Meerab, abhi yahan se chalo. We'll talk in the car." he ordered, his voice brusque as his eyes scanned for the next guy to look at her. This time, he would use his fists instead of his eyes to get them to look away.

He looked down at her when she didn't move. He raised a brow in question and hers rose right back. Murtasim grunted and prayed for patience.

"Meerab." he warned, and he knew it was like continuously rubbing a cat up the wrong way, but he was also pretty sure that he was seconds away from throwing a punch or nine.

"Murtasim." was her only answer.

Their eyes and wills warred with each other and then Murtasim, ever efficient and always the first to find a solution to problems, recalled what she'd been mad about.

"Meerab, let's go. Please ."

It was the magic word. Just like that, she turned, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion but thankfully deciding she was done for now. As elegant as a swan, she slid her legs over the side of the lounger, downed her drink and stood up. And if Murtasim had thought she'd looked good lying down then she looked like sin wrapped in black sequin stood up.

The car ride was a futile crossing across the city. She had been silent, he had been driving at break-neck speed and any attempt to talk had been thwarted by the silent 'back off' shouts radiating from her.

Any other time in her life, Meerab was sure she would just set up camp in the lobby of the Burj Al Arab to be able to absorb its sheer majesty properly. Every single corner dripped with the kind of wealth which made your head spin. Coming from a wealthy family and being well travelled, she knew of the Burj Al Arab. The Emirati hotel was considered to be the world's first seven star and unparalleled in its interior.

But nothing could have prepared Meerab for the sight which greeted her upon entering the extremely exclusive Royal Suite, high up on the 25th floor.

Gold. Lots and lots of gold. Gold on the walls, gold on the television, gilded furniture, gold accents; just a whole lot of gold. And from what Meerab knew, it wasn't just gold in colour. The Burj Al Arab and the Royal Suite in particular were famous for having their 24 carat gold plated interior.

Her mind still hung up on her annoyance and so lagging behind, was hit with a sensory overload of sorts, in a the most ridiculously awed way. As she followed Murtasim as he made his way across the two-floor suite, her eyes skimmed over everything in their path and her already occupied mind was reeling. A gold plated staircase, gold plated ceiling, and as they walked into one of the 'his and hers' bedrooms, a revolving bed of all things waited for them.

Bed.

The word alone took her thoughts back to him and that put her mind right back on track. She watched as he took off his jacket and threw it on the canopied bed fit for a king. She did the same with her little matching handbag and flicked her hair back.

Murtasim watched as she adjusted her dress, which was now much clearer in the bright lights of the suite, and even more fitting than he'd first thought.

"Meerab-" he began and was as far as he got.

"Tum mai small talk ka koi concept hai? Haal chaal poochna? Hello hi karna? Ya nahi, just because ab hum ne decide karliya ke hum ye jo bhi hai-" her hands waved about wildly as she tried to describe their relationship. "Ye karnay waalay hain, tumhay lagta hai tum city, time and 'be there' likho ge aur mein tumhe wahan intezaar mai baithi huwi miloon gi?"

She came at him guns blazing. The privacy had been essential for the nature of the argument but it also meant she was free to let go and go to town with her anger.

And she looked gorgeous standing there crucifying him with her eyes; fiercely, furiously gorgeous. He took a deep breath in and then exhaled, willing himself to not take the bait and fight. They'd both had a long day, hadn't seen each other in a week and were just two very strong-willed individuals anyway. One of them would have to scale back and it wasn't going to be Meerab. And as he looked at her from across one of the most extravagant rooms on the entire planet, he realised that his evening wasn't going to plan mostly because of him.

That, combined with the fresh knowledge of exactly what he'd done to have her breathing fire over him, was all it took for Murtasim to understand and go about neutralising the situation. He'd be damned if they were going to spend the night fighting.

Meerab felt like there was smoke coming out of her ears. She was vexed and rightfully so, but this had affected her more than she had thought it would. She knew she wasn't with the most poetic or the softest man. He was dominant, the most confidant man in any room and also usually the sharpest. That came with a certain kind of personality. He didn't do much pleasantries or small talk and most certainly didn't do sappy, mushy or whatever adjective you could give to a soft, romantic man.

She knew him and she knew how he was functioned, and she had actually always liked that. Now that she was intimately involved with him, she found all those qualities attractive. But there had a special way with which you treated the woman you were sleeping with and most certainly if that woman also just happened to be legally wedded to you. She didn't need or expect rose petals falling from doorways but she needed at least a fully formed text message for date invitations.

With her internal tirade still going on, she blinked as he started walking towards her. His slow, measured steps ate up the distance between them until he was nearly right in front of her and her brain was shouting for her step back in order to prevent the agenda from vanishing into the ether, which is what usually happened to her perfectly coordinated thoughts around him. She raised both her brows in warning.

"Murtasim, iss waqt mere paas aanay ki kosh-"

Meerab didn't know if she'd stopped because her throat had dried up or because of surprise, but as his index finger pressed against her parted lips, all she could do was look up at him in silence.

"Khamosh."

Her brows knitted at the word and the momentary shift in the air around them was well on its way to being overridden when he spoke again, his finger still on her lips.

"Good evening, Meerab slash my beautiful wife. I won't ask how are right now because I can tell, but I really do hope you're well. Would you like to spend New Year's Eve with me in Dubai at the Burj Al Arab? I've already landed and you don't need a car anymore but we need to get to the balcony if you want to watch the fireworks and I can carry you there if you want."

Meerab blinked. Then blinked again. Her lips twitched under his finger. And then before she could understand what was happening, a teeny tiny smile was tugging at her mouth as her lips stretched underneath the soft pads of his fingertips.

A silver tongued devil, that's what he was.

She could've tried to hold onto the anger but for some reason, Meerab didn't want to. Not in the face of his huskily drawled words. Not when they were in the most exquisite location on what was meant to be one of the most beautiful nights of the year. Not when she had dressed up with him in mind. She bit her bottom lip and looked at him.

"Mujhe bas acha nahi laga ke-"

"I know." he murmered as he slid his finger down and the same hand snaked around her waist, pulling her in.

"Aur tum aisa messege-"

"I know." he murmured again, this time right against her nude-pink lips.

Her arms slid up and onto his chest as her eyes fluttered shut.

"Aur maine khana bhi nahi khaya." she whined faintly as his lips grazed hers.

"Hmm. Apke mizaaj se mujhe pata chal gaya tha ke apne khana nahi khaya." His voice was just a low, velvety hum against her lips as he grazed them over and over again.

Food forgotten, Meerab felt her body stir and her arms slid up from his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer to her. His lips still just grazed her, skimming over in tantalising anticipation but just out of reach. She breathed out heavily as her dress suddenly felt too tight and way too warm.

"Murtasim." It came out on the next breath and was a command, plea and question all wrapped in one.

"I know." he whispered over her lips and it was the last sentence either of them spoke for a while.

His lips finally touched hers in a searing kiss and Meerab's hands fisted in his thick hair from the feeling. Her legs felt wobbly all of a sudden and resting her weight on him as he kissed her senseless, she felt herself being lifted into the air. Her arms tightened around his neck and her eyes were pressed shut as they kissed and kissed to make up for the lost time.

A sudden cool breeze enveloped them and Meerab felt her feet touch the ground again as her back rested against a wall. Her hands tightened in his hair and pushed, needing for him to be closer and his hands ran over every inch of black sequin he could find. They stayed locked like that for as long as their bodies allowed, but then neither of them could do anything else as her waist pressed into his and his hands found the long, discreet zip just above her hip.

Willing slaves to their bodies, Murtasim pushed up the hem of Meerab dress as her hands combed his hair repeatedly before coming to push down on his shoulders. The soles of her arched even in her heels and a moan escaped unfiltered. His arms circled her hips and his hands came to rest above the curve of her bottom, and then with one upward push, she was off the ground again.

Her legs around his waist, Meerab held onto the hot, sturdy body of her husband as he held her against the glass wall of the balcony with one arm whilst the other was extended onto the wide, marbled bar counter where he'd just tossed his wallet. Her nose skimmed his jawline, now rougher with a dark shadow as the crinkle of foil sounded beside her. Her eyes half shut, she tilted her head away from his neck to see him tearing into a little foil square with his teeth. Her face went back to its hazy exploration of his jaw and neck as she felt his hands in between them and then Meerab felt herself being pressed against the wall at her back.

"Murtasim." she said on a shaky breath.

This time, he didn't answer with words but seconds later, Meerab's breath hitched sharply and then a gasp, a moan and another 'Murtasim' all flew out of her mouth as her head fell back and the small of her back arched away from the wall. The mildly cool air sizzled with arousal and as the clock struck midnight, Meerab and Murtasim celebrated the New Year against the backdrop of the Dubai skyline coming alive with a sky-searing display of fireworks.

Hello again dear readers! Happy MeerAsim Reading <3

As promised, here is your Valentine's gift from yours truly. I hope it gives you everything from the scorching to the fuzzy giddy feels.

Photo inspo in header. The top is the Burj Khalifa with the annual NYE fireworks. The building on the bottom is Burj Al Arab, the hotel where M&MK are staying. I personally am not a fan of the Royal Suite since its not decorated to my taste(although the decor itself is 24 ct gold plated and it costs an arm and a leg per night) and I have a feeling neither is it the Captain's tastes. However, he wanted tonight to be special and so it was the best of the best only for his 🍓
In the pic of the suite, the glass is where the balcony is located.

Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Till next time, D xo