Trapped Between Fire and Shadows
1191 Words
The darkness of Chaandbagh felt heavier than usual. The rain had washed the streets clean, but the air still reeked of secrets, lies, and something unspoken lingering between Zarnab and Ahil.
The confrontation at his house earlier had left her shaken. Ahil was hiding something—something deep, something painful.
And then there was Faris. His words always felt carefully measured, too perfectly placed. She didn’t trust him, not fully.
But right now, she had bigger problems.
---
The Storm That Trapped Them
The rain had turned the quiet roads into treacherous paths, muddy and nearly impossible to cross. Zarnab had barely walked a few meters when her car refused to start again.
She banged her fist against the wheel. "Perfect. Just perfect."
A distant roar of an engine made her look up. A familiar black motorcycle pulled up beside her, headlights flashing through the heavy downpour.
Ahil.
He didn’t say anything at first, just pulled off his helmet and exhaled heavily. “I should just start charging you for all the times I have to rescue you.”
Zarnab crossed her arms. “I don’t need rescuing.”
Ahil leaned in slightly, rain dripping from his hair. His smirk was almost cruel. “Then why do you always end up needing me?”
Zarnab’s breath hitched.
Before she could respond, the sound of a distant car approaching fast made Ahil straighten. His jaw clenched.
“Get on.”
Zarnab frowned. “I—”
“Now, Zarnab.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
Something in the urgency of his tone made her obey. The moment she climbed onto the bike, Ahil revved the engine and sped off into the night.
The cold air whipped against her face as she clung to him, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his jacket. For the first time, she could feel the raw energy beneath his calm mask—the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding his breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asked over the roaring wind.
Ahil didn’t answer.
But she felt it.
They were being followed.
---
A Night of Demons
Ahil didn’t stop until they reached the farthest outskirts of Chaandbagh. His house was nowhere in sight.
Instead, he pulled up outside an abandoned warehouse, its broken windows and rusted metal doors whispering of a past no one spoke about.
Zarnab stepped off the bike, shivering. “Why are we here?”
Ahil ran a hand through his damp hair, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. For the first time, he looked… lost.
She followed him inside. The place smelled of dust, old metal, and something faintly bitter—whiskey.
Ahil walked over to a small, forgotten corner, grabbed a half-empty bottle from the ground, and took a long sip. His hands trembled slightly.
Zarnab watched him carefully. “You drink too much.”
Ahil let out a humorless chuckle. “And you ask too many questions.”
He sank down onto the old couch in the corner, leaning his head back. His dark eyes, usually filled with defiance, now looked exhausted.
Zarnab hesitated before sitting across from him.
She had seen many versions of Ahil Mirza Ibrahim.
The arrogant rebel. The reckless fighter. The untouchable man women were drawn to like moths to a flame.
But this version?
This was the one no one saw.
The one who looked like he was drowning.
She watched the way his fingers curled around the bottle, how his gaze flickered to something distant—something painful.
“Did you love her?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Ahil’s fingers stilled.
Zarnab held her breath.
He took another sip, slower this time. Then, finally, he spoke. “I don’t know.”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “She was beautiful. Dangerous. She knew exactly how to make you want her.” His lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace. “But love? I don’t know if that’s what it was.”
Zarnab swallowed hard. Saisha was supposed to be his fiancée.
But something in his voice told her he had never truly belonged to her.
“Then why did you agree to marry her?” she whispered.
Ahil turned his gaze to her, something unreadable in his expression. “Because that’s what rich, powerful men do, Zarnab.”
The words stung more than they should have.
She looked away, wrapping her arms around herself. The room felt colder.
A silence stretched between them.
Then, softly, Ahil asked, “Why are you still here?”
Zarnab turned back to him, confused. “What?”
“You know I could be the one who killed her.” His voice was quiet, but there was something dangerously vulnerable beneath it. “You should be running from me. But instead, you’re here.”
Zarnab held his gaze, steady and unwavering. “Because I need to know the truth.”
Ahil let out a slow breath. His fingers brushed against his forehead, as if fighting off a headache.
Then, suddenly—his body tensed.
Zarnab immediately sat up. “Ahil?”
His hands clenched into fists. His breathing became uneven. His pupils dilated.
That’s when she realized.
He wasn’t just drunk.
He was high.
A sharp pang of fear laced through her veins.
She had heard rumors. That Ahil Mirza Ibrahim drowned himself in things that made the world easier to ignore.
She just hadn’t realized how deep it went.
---
A Glimpse Into the Abyss
Ahil’s head fell back against the couch. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
Zarnab reached out hesitantly. “Ahil…?”
He flinched. Not from her, but from something inside himself.
“I hate this,” he whispered hoarsely.
Zarnab’s heart clenched.
She had never seen him like this. So… exposed. So utterly human.
He let out a bitter laugh. “You know, people think I have it all. Money, power, women…” He turned to face her, his eyes darker than the night outside. “But the truth is, I don’t have anything.”
Zarnab swallowed against the lump in her throat. “That’s not true.”
Ahil smirked. “Isn’t it?”
The room felt suffocating. The air between them, charged with something unspoken.
Zarnab should leave.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she reached out and took the bottle from his hands, setting it aside. Then, without thinking, she placed her palm against his cheek.
Ahil froze.
His breathing slowed.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
And then, just as quickly, Ahil leaned away, breaking the moment. “You should go.”
Zarnab’s fingers curled into her lap.
Her heart was screaming. Stay. Stay. Stay.
But she knew better.
So, she stood up and walked toward the door.
Just before she left, she turned back.
Ahil hadn’t moved. He was still sitting there, staring into the void, his demons clinging to him like shadows.
And for the first time since she had arrived in Chaandbagh, Zarnab wasn’t sure if Ahil was the one who needed saving…
Or if she was.
- Writer
