As Long As I Live

Regaining Confidence

Taqabbal Allahu minna wa minkum!!

Wishing everyone Eid Mubarak and Happy Ganesh Chaturti!!

Enjoy!!

*****

Sunlight streamed through the large French windows of the colossal hotel room and gently warmed her face, caressing her slowly into awakening. She felt weirdly peaceful, at ease of sorts, something she wasn't accustomed to. She woke up not knowing what woke her up, the sun or the peace. But she was up.

She could hear Aamir in the shower. She sat up and ran her hand through her messed hair. She was grateful Aamir wasn't here just yet, a glorious blush making itself known on her face. She didn't know how to face him after all the hugging and cuddling-to-sleep last night.

How afraid she had been! Terrified of how Aamir was going to react, almost certain that she was going to be hurt. What he did last night dispelled all her fears, at least most of them. If Aamir would not hurt her with the amount of provocation he received last night, he most probably wouldn't hurt her at all. Never before had a thought pleased her more.

Never before had she felt so hopeful.

Mayra sank back down on the soft pillows, rubbed her face and thanked God for Aamir's thoroughness. He had called home in advance and asked Zara to pack a change of clothes for last night and the morning, and a few essentials and have them sent over. That had enabled her to sleep sans makeup and in her comfy clothes. She would've hated to have to sleep in that beautiful red dress and spoil it. She was going to keep that dress forever, for the memories it held.

Memories of Aamir as he held her, as she held him. Memories of a sea of people looking up at her in awe as her husband humbled himself in front of his peers to let the light shine on her. Memories of finding her self-worth, confidence and esteem. Memories where she was Aamir's equal, not his slave.

The door opened and Mayra shot up, sitting with her spine as straight as a rod. What emerged from the bathroom had her quickly averting her gaze and blushing to the roots of her hair. She covered half her face with her hand and hoped Aamir wouldn't notice.

Aamir stood in the doorway, drying his wet hair with a towel knowing full well what he was doing to her. He had never appeared before her without a shirt. He smirked arrogantly. What male wouldn't? It stoked a man's ego when he and he alone had such an effect on his woman.

Mayra removed the hand a little from her face and squealed when she saw Aamir toss the wet towel away and saunter towards the bed. He wore blue jeans, and no shirt! Drops of water fell from his damp hair and ... no. No! She covered her eyes again.

Aamir walked to the edge of the bed and putting his knee down, crawled to where Mayra sat, her face covered. Smiling, he gently removed her hand from her face and fought the urge to laugh at her tightly shut eyes.

"Good morning, Princess."

Oh God, his voice! It was deep and husky. Almost caressing her as firmly as his hands would. She shivered a little at that but found herself unable to draw her gaze from her lap. His smoldering eyes would be as uncomfortable for her to see as would be his bare chest.

"G..G..good mor..morning."

Aamir stroked the side of her face, "Did you sleep well, my love?"

That voice! "Y..yes."

"That's nice," he said. Deliberately he pulled back and lay his wet head in her lap. She squeaked at the sudden change of position and pulled her hands away.

Aamir looked up at her face, finding her gaze and holding it. She looked even more beautiful in the morning, if that was even possible. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek again, taking in her blush and feeling thrilled that he was the cause of it.