Warning: mature, descriptive. Please skip if uncomfortable.

Alan's world seemed to crumble as he processed the scene before him. The girl he loved, Fiza, sat there while Faisal's touch lingered upon her, and she didn't resist.

Questions swirled in his mind like a storm - was his Fiza attracted to Faisal? Did she have feelings for him? Had something intimate occurred between them? Would something have happened had he not walked in?

"Alan?" Fiza called out to him, her voice was thick with emotion.

He felt a whirlwind of emotions-hurt, anger, confusion-surge within him as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

Faisal, who had been holding Fiza's pendant, finally released it, his own spell momentarily broken. Avoiding eye contact with Alan, Faisal retreated to his side of the room.

Alan's face contorted with pain as he approached her.

"Alan, I can explain," Fiza began.

"Please don't," Alan's response was curt and pained.

"It wasn't what it looked like," Fiza's words tumbled out, her concern evident.

Alan continued his slow approach, his hurt expression shifting to anger. He forcefully pulled at her legs, causing her to slide from a seated to a lying position on the bed. The intensity in his eyes sent a wave of fear through her.

"Please don't hurt me," her voice trembled as she whimpered.

Alan's anger seemed to melt into a mixture of hurt and confusion. The realization that she was scared of him struck him deeply. Did she truly believe he would harm her?

A memory surfaced, one of his own actions in Agumbe. He understood why she might be afraid. How could he blame her? If she wanted to leave him, maybe he should just let her go.

"Don't you dare leave me," her words from a few months ago echoed in his mind.

He climbed over her, his presence engulfing her space. Fiza's eyes widened, fear filling her gaze. "Alan, I-" Her words were cut short as his lips met hers.

He kissed her with a desperation that spoke of his pain and frustration, a silent plea for her to understand without words.

Breaking away, Alan's position straddling her conveyed a mixture of intensity and determination. With both hands, he seized her gold chain-the symbol of an unwanted intrusion-and his intent was clear. With a forceful tug, he snapped the chain, the sound of her pained exclamation echoing in the room. He flung the broken necklace toward the bathroom door.

He discarded his shirt, his chest bare and he hovered over her, his touch now gentle as he ran his fingers along the neckline of her slip.

"My Fiza," he whispered.

Fiza moaned softly, her hands finding their way to his bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles.

Amidst the whirlwind of sensations-Alan's kisses, Faisal's gaze, and her own inner turmoil-she was overwhelmed, her thoughts a jumble of desires and confusion. Craving Alan's touch while grappling with the aftermath of her encounter with Faisal, Fiza's emotions spun like a tempest within her.

Alan's hands glided over the fabric of her slip, his touch a deliberate exploration that trailed from her neck to her shoulders, caressing her breasts and finally resting on her stomach. The intensity in his gaze met hers as he voiced his question, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability and insecurity that tugged at her heart.

"This was for me?" he inquired.

Confusion laced Fiza's response, "What?"

"You wore this for me, right?" Alan's vulnerability shone through, laying bare his concerns.

"Of course, Alan!" Fiza's reassurance was immediate, disbelief coloring her response that he could even doubt her intentions.

"We need to talk, sweetheart," she added, her tone indicating her urgency to clear the air.

"No!" Alan's defiance resonated strongly, his actions speaking louder than words. He gradually lifted her slip, revealing her legs, causing her to instinctively press them together. With skillful intent, he continued to roll it up, his lips and kisses tracing a path along her lower abdomen.

Pleasure surged through Fiza, mingling with the intensity of her desire.

His fingers traced along her inner thighs, eliciting a sharp breath from her.

Amidst the whirlwind of sensations, Fiza's voice cut through, reminding them both of their agreement. "Alan, we had decided on no more sex before marriage, remember?" Her words were a clear directive, though her own mind was clouded by the sensations he was igniting within her.

Alan's gaze locked with hers, a silent dialogue between them. He lowered his head to place soft, deliberate kisses on her thigh. He had held back until now, but his intent was clear - he was determined to pleasure her, to sweep her away in the intensity of their connection and drive all thoughts of Faisal from her mind.

Fiza's moans and gasps mingled as Alan's skilled touch ignited sensations that consumed her. As his lips and tongue explored her intimately, desire coursed through her veins, leaving her breathless and wanting. His hands brushed against her underwear, and as he began to pull it down, Fiza's fingers instinctively reached out, gripping his hands in a silent plea.

"Please don't," she implored, her shyness evident as she thought of the intimate act he was about to engage in.

Alan's response was almost menacing in its intensity, his voice low and demanding, "I'm just taking what's mine. Aren't you mine?"

Fiza's heartbeat quickened at his words, a mix of desire and conflict warring within her. She wanted him, craved his touch, but she left guilty and embarrassed. Her answer held both surrender and a trace of hesitation, "I'm yours."

With that, he expertly wielded his mouth, igniting sensations that sent waves of pleasure coursing through Fiza's body. Unfamiliar sensations consumed her, leaving her gasping and moaning as her body writhed in response to his touch. Desire mingled with uncertainty, a potent combination that intensified her experience. Her pleas for him to stop and her desire for more, waged an internal battle within her.

Just as she teetered on the edge of climax, Alan shifted his focus, his entrance into her taking her by surprise. The sensation of him filling her, coupled with the remnants of the pleasure he had elicited with his mouth, was overwhelming.

"Alan!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of need and staggered breaths. His thrusts sent waves of pleasure radiating through her, her body responding eagerly to his every move.

Their eyes met, and Fiza's heart clenched at the sight of moisture in Alan's eyes, a tear escaping and falling onto her face.

"Alan?" Fiza's voice was soft, her plea reaching out to him amidst their shared intensity. Despite the increased pace of their movements, a moment of concern surfaced, prompting her to speak up.

"Condom," she managed to breathe out, her voice conveying urgency and caution.

"I don't have any," his response was immediate, laden with a mix of frustration and distraction.

Fiza reached for her purse on the nightstand, retrieving a condom and passing it to him.

"Why do you have this?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. The image of Fiza with Faisal continued to haunt him.

"Being... responsible," she managed to explain.

He swiftly put on the condom and re-entered her. As they moved together, Fiza's body surrendered to the waves of pleasure that enveloped her. Alan kissed her as she climaxed, the sensation consuming her entire being. His voice reached her ears, calling out her name in a culmination of his own pleasure, as he finally found release.

Their bodies intertwined, he remained within her, his touch gentle as he cupped her face in his hands. Their lips met in a kiss that held both tenderness and desperation. "You are mine. Just mine," he declared, the weight of his words echoing between them.

Faisal's heart ached as he attempted to block out the sounds that reached his ears, a discordant symphony of intimacy between Fiza and Alan. He plugged in his headphones, cranking up the volume of his music to drown out the sounds that twisted his emotions. The melodies served as a fragile barrier against the reality unfolding just beyond the wall, a reality that stirred jealousy, longing, and pain within him.

Was it possible that Alan had manipulated Fiza into this situation? He had heard her tell Alan that they needed to talk. His thoughts were a jumble of confusion, woven with doubt and disbelief. He had heard Fiza's plea, her words etched into his mind, "No more sex before marriage." Had she willingly gone back on her own words?

Feeling trapped in his room, Faisal grappled with conflicting emotions. He longed to be anywhere but here, not subjected to the live broadcast of the girl he loved being intimate with someone else. Yes, he realized he loved her and this revelation was a double-edged sword, heightening his awareness of her actions while tormenting him with the knowledge that he couldn't intervene.

When he saw Alan walking toward the bathroom, Faisal swiftly gathered his bag and phone, heading toward the door. As he picked up the gold chain from the floor, he handed it to Fiza, locking his gaze with hers. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

"I don't want it," she mumbled.

"Then you throw it away," he retorted, emphasizing the word 'you.' Gently taking her hand in his, he placed the chain on her palm.

Fiza quickly accepted it, wanting to end the encounter as soon as possible.

"Can we talk?" Faisal asked. Fiza raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"Now?" she questioned, her disbelief evident. "You want to talk now?"

Why was he doing this? She had been friendly with him in the past, believing he understood and respected her committed relationship. However, she had distanced herself when she finally realized that he wanted more.

The knob on the bathroom door twisted.

Faisal let out a sigh, slung his backpack on his shoulder and walked out just as Alan emerged from the bathroom.

Alan caught a glimpse of Faisal before he slammed the door shut. He noticed Fiza sitting on the bed, holding the troublesome gold chain in her hands, her gaze fixed on the direction of the door.

He shook his head. Avoiding the conversation wasn't an option anymore. They needed to talk.

Fiza smiled as Alan approached and as always, her smile melted his heart. He felt a mix of relief and anxiety as they finally got to talking.

"I'm ready to listen now," he said, his tone a mix of sincerity and apprehension.

Fiza explained how she had intended to surprise him, thinking he was in the bathroom as his phone's location showed him at the apartment.

"When I saw it was Faisal, I was just too stunned to react," she said, her voice tinged with embarrassment and confusion.

"So nothing happened?" Alan asked, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with her.

She shook her head, her eyes downcast.

"Do you have feelings for him?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. Fiza's answer was quick and firm, shaking her head.

"Do you..." Alan began, but his voice trailed off, his emotions getting the better of him. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Fiza reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close.

"Alan, I love you, only you. I choose you. I will keep choosing you," she whispered, her words carrying the weight of her commitment. He wiped his eyes.

"Do you wish that it was easier?" he asked her, his gaze earnestly searching her eyes for the truth.

Fiza furrowed her brow. Who wouldn't wish things were easier?

"What do you mean?" She questioned, needing clarification.

"Faisal," he stated simply, yet his words carried a complexity that evaded him. After a brief pause, he attempted to articulate himself once more. "He is everything you wanted. You said so yourself. Your parents would approve. They would actually be happy. If it were him instead of me, you might already be married. You could have been living with him last year. You could start a pediatric clinic together when you graduate. You could live in Kerala since you both speak Malayalam fluently. You could be close to your parents."

Fiza was taken aback by the depth of Alan's contemplation. This wasn't just a spontaneous outburst; he had clearly been grappling with these thoughts for a while now.

"You could raise kids together - as Muslims. You know the families are going to have disagreements about religion when we have kids, right?" His voice quavered, and he brushed away another tear.

Fiza's own eyes welled up with tears. Alan's vulnerability was moving and heartfelt. She loved him deeply and couldn't bear to see him in such pain.

"You would have been better off if you hadn't met me. You would have met Faisal during your first year of PG. He would have been your first boyfriend, your first love - the one you had been saving yourself for," Alan's words trembled with emotion.

"Alan, stop," Fiza pleaded, her own tears streaming down her cheeks, pained by his turmoil.

"Do you wish that we didn't happen, Fiza? So you could've been free to be with the man you were meant to be with?" Alan finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at him from within.

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Author's note

Would you allow yourself to fall in love with someone from a different religious background?

Would you choose with your heart or your brain?

Would you be able to let go of the person you love if your family didn't support you?

Tell me your thoughts on this chapter and don't forget to vote!

Link to "everybody hurts" REM up above.

❤️Faiza