Murtasim and Meerab made a quick stop at a nearby restaurant on their way back, both needing a moment to compose themselves and create an alibi for their tardiness. They decided to pick up kulfis for everyone, using it as a reason for their delay.

As Murtasim held her door open, helping her out of the car, Arslan and Maryam approached them, as if they had been loitering by the door waiting for them.

"What kept you so long?" Arslan quipped, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Meerab pointed to the bag of kulfis that Murtasim held. "Kulfis." She replied, trying to not sound nervous, just hinting at the time it took to acquire the delicious treats.

Maryam joined in the teasing, her eyes twinkling. "That long? Are you two sure you weren't enjoying other desserts?" Her comment carried a playful insinuation, testing the boundaries of their secret.

Murtasim's voice held a hint of warning as he interjected. "Maryam, don't." His words were a gentle reminder to tread lightly on the topic that was better left unexplored, especially in light of what had happened between them.

Maryam's gaze shifted between Murtasim and Meerab, her expression softening. "You know I'm just teasing." She reassured them.

Meerab nodded, grabbing Murtasim's hand and squeezing it inconspicuously.

"Let's go, all the oldies are asleep, we didn't tell them you two were missing." Arslan whispered as Maryam led them upstairs.

"Rumi came with you, right?" Meerab asked, she hadn't been able to ask Rumi what had happened with all the people around them earlier that night. But when Rumi had requested Meerab's help in persuading her parents to allow her to stay for one more night with Meerab and Maryam, she had complied.

Maa Begum, had managed to convince Anila Chachi to grant Rumi's wish for an extended stay, reminding her that they too were young once. She was glad because she wanted to hear all that Rumi wanted to tell her, and knew that it would give her the opportunity.

"You're here!" Rumi squealed quietly, rushing into the hall, changed out of her party clothes like Maryam and Arslan. "We stopped by my house to pick up some stuff, so I left you some pajamas in the room, we're in that one." She said pointing to the end of the hall.

Meerab's gaze narrowed, eyebrow arching, silently questioning Rumi.

Rumi, sensing her curiosity, mouthed "later," indicating that they would have a chance to talk privately.

Sighing softly, Meerab realized that amidst the bustling crowd of her cousins, she wouldn't be able to ask Rumi about what had happened.

She walked to the room that Rumi had pointed to freshen up, rushing to the bathroom as soon as she entered the space. Her face flushed when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she still looked like the same Meerab but she could swear there was a lightness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

She quickly showered and changed into the clothes that Rumi had so kindly brought for her, a loose-fitting lavender suit that felt so much comfier than the clothes she had been wearing earlier. She sighed in relief and rubbed her ears, the earrings she had been wearing were rather heavy, the necklace had not been any better.

When Meerab returned to the main living room, she found the room in disarray, pillows and blankets were thrown all around, and the coffee table was ladened with snacks. Rumi insisted that they all stay up to watch a movie together, and it seemed that all of them were nostalgic enough to do so.

Rumi's choice was Hum Saath Saath Hai, a film that elicited groans from everyone. Except from Hamza, who simply shrugged and commented, "It's a good movie."

His response caused everyone to snicker while Rumi smiled at him like he had hung the stars in the sky for her.

Meerab couldn't help but feel a mischievous excitement as she cheekily pushed Rumi to sit beside Hamza, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. It was evident that Arslan's plan had succeeded, and the two of them had finally shared their feelings openly. They no longer seemed to look away from each other when caught staring.

Her heart fluttered with joy as she observed Rumi lean her head against Hamza's shoulder, their closeness a clear indication of their newfound connection. As their eyes met, Meerab and Maryam exchanged grins, both brimming with anticipation. Meerab was eager to hear every detail of Rumi's romantic saga, looking forward to her friend's flair for dramatic storytelling.

Meerab sank to the floor, nestling into the plush blankets scattered across the carpet, her back leaning against the couch. With a joyful smile, she reached for a kulfi, relishing the sweet treat. To her surprise, Murtasim joined her on the floor when he walked back into the room, a departure from his usual preference for seating arrangements. She couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her as she realized that he was just looking for a reason to be close to her, even if it meant sitting on the floor. It made her heart swell with affection for the man she loved.

He grabbed a kulfi for himself, smiling at her.

Her heart fluttered with an indescribable joy as she smiled back, the gentle curve of his smile tugged at her heartstrings. She had feared that he would resent her for what had happened in the car earlier, she had pushed the boundaries that he had worked so hard to protect, she knew that. But it seemed that her fear was unfounded.

The love in Murtasim's smile was palpable, radiating with a tenderness that enveloped her, no different than before. She leaned into his side, moving a little closer to him only to jump a little as a pillow fell into her lap.

She looked up to see Arslan playfully attempting to lay his head on the pillow he had put in her lap. Meerab erupted into laughter as Murtasim seized the pillow and playfully hit Arslan with it a couple of times, the sound catching everyone's attention as they too laughed.

"Yaar! You don't have to be so aggressive. Just say, stay away from meri Meerab like you always do!" Arslan whined, settling on the other side of the couch. "No one loves me."

"Awww, Arslan bhai, come here." Maryam laughed, patting the spot next to her.

Arslan huffed dramatically and crawled over to the other side, finding his seat beside Maryam who handed him a bowl of popcorn.

Meerab snickered at the amusing exchange as Arslan pouted. As if in response, Murtasim picked up another pillow and gently placed it in her lap, before lying down upon it, the weight of his head settling into her lap. His bold action surprised her immensely, clearly indicating his comfort with the people around them.

The gesture also reminded her of a fond memory, of waking up on the couch in their village house with her head on his lap, half the people in the room had been privy to that too so she guessed it wasn't such a big deal. The familiarity of the moment brought a sense of comfort to her soul.

"Wow, Murtasim bhai, talk about claiming your spot, huh?" Rumi's playful comment triggered a ripple of snickers from the rest of the group.

Murtasim, seemingly in a better mood, matched Rumi's tone with a teasing lilt in his voice. "You are in no position to tease me now, Rumi Waqas Ahmed." He retorted, his playful smile widening, even as he lay in Meerab's lap with his eyes closed. "Don't think I don't see you and the shoulder you lean on."

Rumi pouted, unable to resist a quick comeback. "How is it any different from you and Meerab?" She whined. "You're laying in her lap!"

Murtasim sighed, snuggling into the pillow in Meerab's lap further. "Ah, but you see, Rumi, the difference lies in the undeniable truth." He quipped. "Everyone acknowledges that Meerab is meri Meerab, and we'll be married before the year ends."

The room erupted in snickers at the confident declaration. Meerab couldn't help but blush, her heart swelling with affection for the playful man she had missed, the one who involved himself in conversation rather than running away to his office, of the boy who had once been her best friend.

Rumi, ever the quick-witted friend, countered. "Oh, Murtasim bhai, don't count your chickens before they hatch. You'll need to survive the wedding preparations...or survive until the wedding happens first." She teased, her words dripping with playful exaggeration.

Murtasim chuckled. "You forget that my eagerness to marry Meerab paired with my access to money means that we can have a wedding put together in no time."

Rumi giggled loudly at that. "See, this is where you're wrong, because your Meerab has dreams for her wedding with waitlists."

Murtasim's eyes opened then, looking up at Meerab, eyebrow arched in question.

"I am sure he can get them to hurry it up, too." Meerab said, smiling at Murtasim.

He nodded as if pleased by her response.

"And if he can't do it alone, we're here to help." Armaan chimed in, offering his support.

Arslan chuckled, adding his own perspective to the conversation. "Badi Maa uses him as a weapon to get her clothes faster when she visits top designers." He shared with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "He just accompanies her to the appointment and asks will they be ready in time in his deep voice, and the women all melt."

Armaan sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. "That's not how it is."

Hamza couldn't help but snicker at the exchange. "Oh, come on, Armaan, that is exactly how it is." He chimed in, nudging him lightly.

Maryam joined in the laughter.

"She uses all of us interchangeably, but Armaan here is the most useful." Arslan said, giving Armaan a playful nudge.

"We'll have to try that out then." Maryam said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. Armaan turned to Maryam and nodded, a silent agreement passing between them.

Meerab smiled warmly at the camaraderie within the group, grateful for their presence in her life, she had missed exactly this while being away for school. The lighthearted banter subsided as the movie grabbed their attention, capturing their focus – mostly because Rumi squealed and turned the volume up.

As the movie played on, Meerab couldn't resist the temptation to run her fingers through Murtasim's hair, relishing the sensation of his soft locks beneath her fingertips. She remembered that he had played with her hair when she had fallen asleep on the pillow in his lap at the village, so she took the same liberty.

With each stroke, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, their connection grounding her. The rhythmic motion of her hand gently scratching his scalp seemed to soothe them both, creating a quiet intimacy amidst the laughter and chatter of their family.

But whenever Meerab glanced down at Murtasim, her heart skipped a beat, for his gaze was fixed upon her. It was as if the screen before them held no interest for him. His eyes, filled with adoration and affection, seemed to speak volumes without uttering a word. Meerab's smile widened at his unwavering attention, playfully nudging his face back towards the movie each time, much like she did when they worked side by side and he just kept looking at her.

It was a silent conversation that danced between their eyes, a language only they could understand. With each gentle push of his face towards the screen, Meerab playfully teased him, yet the underlying affection was evident in her actions.

"SEE THEY'RE EVEN CUTER THAN PREM AND PREETI!" Rumi yelled, causing Meerab to jump, her hand frozen on Murtasim's face, she had been in the middle of pushing his gaze back to the television. She looked up to find everyone staring and grinning at them, Rumi's fingers pointing towards the two of them.

"Rumi!" She whined as everyone snickered.

"I see it." Arslan nodded.

Rumi's excitement bubbled over as her favorite sequence of the movie played out on the screen—the lively and vibrant reception that followed the wedding of the eldest brother in the movie. Rumi couldn't contain her enthusiasm as her eyes flickered all over the room, shining with anticipation.

"Listen, at Meerab and Murtasim bhai's baraat and rukhsati, we should do dances like this!" Rumi exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement and her hands gesturing animatedly. It seemed that she had already begun envisioning a grand celebration, full of music, dancing, and infectious energy.

Meerab couldn't help but chuckle at Rumi's infectious enthusiasm. It was no secret that Rumi had a flair for the dramatic and a passion for all things Bollywood. She had a knack for infusing joy and liveliness into every occasion, and weddings were no exception. As Meerab glanced at her friend, she realized that Rumi had strategically chosen the movie to recruit a team for her grand plans.

"Right Murtasim bhai?" Rumi said as she leaned over Meerab, looking down at Murtasim who remained laying in her lap.

"Of course, Rumi." Murtasim hummed, agreeing to Rumi's outrageous plans, making her squeal.

The movie that had been playing on the screen was now forgotten, as was often the case after Rumi's favorite scenes. The room buzzed with excitement as Arslan and Rumi delved into a spirited discussion about specific wedding details and ideas of a wedding that even Meerab had yet to think about. Their voices filled the air, exchanging thoughts and bouncing off each other's enthusiasm.

Meerab couldn't help but smile as she observed the scene unfolding before her. Her gaze shifted to Hamza, who was watching Rumi with admiration. He tried his best to participate in the conversation between Rumi and Arslan, eager to be a part of the excitement, but it wasn't his area of expertise, and he seemed to struggle to keep up.

Yet, he still made a genuine effort to engage with Rumi's enthusiasm, nodding every time she asked him a question, staring fondly every time she gave him her dimpled smile. She had a feeling they would follow not soon after her wedding to Murtasim.

Meerab's gaze wandered across the room, and her attention was drawn to the quiet conversation unfolding between Maryam and Armaan. Intrigue sparkled in her eyes as she tried to decipher the nature of their exchange. Maryam sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, her head gently resting upon them, creating an intimate space between her and Armaan.

She couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, her desire to understand the depth of their conversation growing. She strained her ears, attempting to catch snippets of their discussion, even though it proved challenging amidst the ambient noise in the room. It seemed they were immersed in a conversation about books, a topic that piqued Meerab's interest.

But amid her curiosity, a conflicting thought surfaced in Meerab's mind. She couldn't shake Murtasim's earlier comment, about Armaan liking her, it made her question Murtasim's judgment or her own. In her eyes, there appeared to be a certain twinkle in Armaan's gaze whenever he spoke with Maryam, suggesting a connection that went beyond mere friendship. This perception left Meerab with a bittersweet premonition, for if Armaan had at one point had feelings for her, she wasn't sure how Murtasim would react to him having feelings for Maryam.

As Meerab continued to stroke Murtasim's hair, her fingers delicately weaving through the strands, she wondered if she would be able to reason with him if needed. She looked down to find his eyes closed, seemingly at peace, while she offered him comfort and affection. She wanted to give Maryam and Armaan the space they needed if there was indeed something developing between them. Deep down, she knew that Murtasim's protectiveness stemmed from his immense love for his sister, but Meerab silently hoped that if there was a spark between Maryam and Armaan, it would be given the opportunity to flourish. For it would be nice to have Maryam so close.

As Meerab's thoughts wandered, Murtasim's voice cut through the stream of her musings, interrupting her reverie. "Here I am looking at you, and you're looking at everyone else." He playfully remarked, breaking the spell.

Meerab's gaze shifted downward, meeting Murtasim's warm and affectionate eyes. She couldn't help but smile at his words, her fingers continuing to weave through his hair.

"Had your fill of me already?" He jokingly asked, a hint of mischief lacing his voice.

She shook her head gently, her smile widening. "That isn't possible." She responded softly, her voice filled with sincerity. The truth was, Meerab could never tire of Murtasim's presence or his loving gaze. He held an irreplaceable place in her heart, and her desire to gaze at him only grew with each passing moment.

Murtasim, his eyes still fixed on her, posed a whimsical question. "Even when we're 70?"

Meerab's laughter bubbled forth, a joyful sound that filled the air. "Even when we're 80, old and wrinkled." She replied, her tone lighthearted yet full of conviction. "I'll still love you and always want to stare at you." Her words conveyed a steadfast commitment.

The twinkle in Murtasim's eyes grew brighter as he absorbed her response, his gaze holding an appreciation for her words. He nodded, his voice a soft whisper. "Always."

---------------

"You, Miss Rumi Waqas Ahmed, have avoided us for long enough, tell us exactly what happened!" Meerab squealed as she pushed Rumi into the room. They were supposed to go to bed, but she had no plans to do so.

Rumi fell to the bed and squealed, picking up a pillow and screaming into it. Meerab looked over at Maryam, her eyes wide with excitement before both of them fell onto the bed, beside Rumi, poking her.

"Stop! Stop! I'll tell you!"

"Start from the beginning!" Maryam squealed.

"From what Arslan did?"

"No no, he told me what he did, from the moment you left." Maryam prompted as Meerab nodded.

To Meerab's utter surprise, rather than sighing dramatically and holding her hand over her heart, Rumi sighed, her voice calm and quiet. "It was...everything." She whispered.

Instead of the usual excitement and exuberance that Rumi emanated, there was a calmness about her, a quietude that anyone rarely saw. It was a subtle hint of vulnerability that Rumi rarely revealed to the outside world. Meerab knew that Rumi, with her vivaciousness and magnetic presence, carried her own share of burdens and fears. Behind the laughter and vibrant energy, there were scars etched upon her heart, remnants of the pain she had endured. Yet, Rumi seldom allowed anyone to witness those vulnerabilities. She guarded them fiercely, concealing them behind a carefully constructed persona.

But Meerab was one of the fortunate few who had been entrusted with Rumi's innermost struggles. They shared a unique bond, forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. Both had suffered the abandonment of their fathers, men who had walked away, leaving behind a void that echoed through their lives. It was this shared pain that had brought them together, weaving the threads of understanding between their hearts.

Rumi's behaviour told Meerab that Hamza too was someone who Rumi had trusted with those struggles. For Rumi, as much as she loved the idea of love, was someone who was scared of it for herself. It's why she loved the way Murtasim was with her so much, Rumi had said it just once, that she knew that Murtasim wouldn't leave Meerab no matter what, that he would always choose her over everything. And for someone who had lost so much at a young age, that became a need that seemed hard to meet.

Meerab leaned forward, hugging her friend. "You don't have to tell us anything you're not comfortable with." She muttered.

A smile graced Rumi's lips as she nodded. "I know."

----------

Earlier:

Rumi's heart pounded in her chest, her palms clammy with nervousness as she paced near the fountain in the garden. The moonlight cast a soft glow on the surroundings, adding an ethereal touch to the moment. Her mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts, and her stomach churned with anticipation. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for, a chance to finally be honest with Hamza because Arlsan couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Her feelings for Hamza had been simmering beneath the surface for what felt like an eternity. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh had only deepened her affection. But fear had always held her back, whispering doubts into her ear. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if their friendship was all that existed between them? What if he changed his mind after getting to know her better? He was always so quiet, so calm, that he became hard to read at times.

But tonight, propelled by Arslan's teasing, Rumi had confessed her feelings for Hamza in front of him. The sheer embarrassment and vulnerability had propelled her out of the venue and into the tranquil oasis of the garden. She needed a moment to collect herself, to steady her racing heart before facing Hamza – and also if he was going to confess to her, she wanted the place to not be a banquet hall filled with people, but rather a romantic garden.

As she paced back and forth, her eyes caught a glimpse of Hamza making his way towards her, in his white kurta-pajama that made him look so handsome that she wanted to write "Rumi's Man" on his forehead. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was her chance—her Bollywood moment.

Hamza stood before Rumi, nervousness and anticipation evident on his face. Rumi's heart raced as she met his gaze, her eyes searching for any clue about what he was thinking. She could sense the weight of his question before he even spoke it, and her stomach sank with a tinge of anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, Hamza asked, his voice slightly shaky. "Did you mean it?" His vulnerability mirrored her own, as if they were both teetering on the edge of something life-changing.

A rush of conflicting emotions flooded through Rumi. Part of her wanted to say no, to protect herself from potential disappointment, to retreat back into the safety of uncertainty. But another part, a much stronger part, urged her to be honest, to take a leap of faith and reveal her true feelings.

With a subtle nod, Rumi confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I meant it." Her eyes held a mixture of fear and hope, waiting for his response.

Hamza's breath escaped him in a whoosh, and for a moment, Rumi's heart dropped, fearing that his reaction might not be what she had hoped for. But as she studied his face, she noticed a flicker of relief and something else—something resembling joy—crossing his features.

A shy smile tugged at the corners of Hamza's lips as he reached out, gently cupping Rumi's face with his hands. Rumi felt her heartbeat quicken at his touch, her emotions swirling inside her like a storm.

"I'm so glad." He breathed, his voice sincere and warm. Rumi couldn't help but be drawn to the genuine affection reflected in his eyes. "I've wanted to say it for the longest time, but I was afraid you didn't feel the same way."

His words filled her with a mix of joy and relief, but her past trauma loomed over her like a shadow, casting doubt and insecurity.

Rumi's own fears and insecurities bubbled to the surface, threatening to drown out the blossoming happiness within her. She mustered the courage to speak her truth, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I was scared too." She admitted softly, her words barely above a whisper.

"The Rumi Waqas Ahmed, scared?" Hamza's playful teasing caused a small smile to grace Rumi's lips, but the weight of her past trauma was difficult to ignore. Her heart felt fragile, guarded by walls built from years of abandonment and mistrust. Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, her voice quivering with raw honesty.

"I have a hard time trusting people." She confessed, her voice laced sadness and self-awareness. "I always think they're going to leave me, that they think I am a nuisance...that I am too clingy." She let out a shaky laugh, a defense mechanism to mask the pain within. "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."

But there was more to her vulnerability than just her past. Hamza overwhelmed her in ways she couldn't fully comprehend. Her feelings for him were strong, and that scared her. She believed love was challenging, that it didn't come easily, and she had never considered herself lucky in that regard.

"Actually, I do know." She admitted, her voice wavering. "I really like you, Hamza, and that's hard for me." She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and emotions. "Because as much as I love the idea of love, I think love is hard. It doesn't come easy, and people aren't that lucky. I've never been that lucky."

Her voice cracked, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued, her vulnerability laid bare before him. "I'm going to be a lot of work." She confessed, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I'm going to be needy and insecure, and I'll drive you insane with the constant reassurance I'll need. So, you'll need to think about if that works for you - "

Rumi's words hung in the air, the weight of her insecurities threatening to suffocate the hope within her. But before she could finish her self-deprecating thoughts, Hamza's words cut through her doubts.

"I don't need to think about it, Rumi." He assured her, his voice filled with sincerity and tenderness. He reached out, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb, his touch offering comfort and reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke in a soothing tone, his voice filled with understanding. "Rumi, I know you better than you think." He said, his voice laced with warmth. "I see the way you hold yourself, how you try to be strong for everyone else even when you're falling apart inside. I've noticed the moments when doubt creeps into your eyes, and the way you seek reassurance, wanting to be reminded that you are valued and loved. I have seen the way Meerab dotes on you, constantly telling you what you need to hear."

Rumi's eyes widened, her being filling with surprise. It was as if Hamza had peered into the depths of her soul, seeing the hidden parts she had kept guarded from the world.

"You're not a mess, don't ever apologize for that..." He continued, his voice gentle and reassuring. "We all have our struggles and insecurities, but it's who we are as people despite them that is loveable." He paused, seeming to search for the right words to convey his sincerity. "And you Rumi, you're sunshine. You brighten up every room with your smile, your contagious laughter soothes the soul, and you just...you bring so much joy to those around you. You have this incredible ability to make people feel seen and heard, to shine light on them."

He paused, his gaze fixed on her as if mesmerized by her presence. "But here's the thing about the sun, Rumi." He continued, his voice taking on a tender tone. "Not everyone knows how to take care of it, to appreciate its warmth and give back to it. Some may take it for granted or fail to recognize its true worth."

His words resonated deeply with Rumi, who had often felt misunderstood and overlooked. She leaned in, captivated by his analogy, eager to hear more.

"When the sun disappears, it needs to be taken care of until it comes back." Hamza continued, his voice filled with tenderness. "And Rumi, my sunshine, you deserve that same care and attention. You deserve someone who understands the depths of your heart, who sees the delicate balance between your vibrant energy and the need for nurturing."

"You've been through so much, and yet you continue to shine." He whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "But I know it's hard for you to rely on others for support, but I promise to be there for you, Rumi." He murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "To cherish your light and help you when the clouds cast shadows upon your radiant soul. I know that there will be moments when you need to retreat, when the clouds of uncertainty or self-doubt may momentarily dim your light." Hamza continued, his voice steady and resolute. "But I want to be there, holding your hand and reminding you of your strength."

Tears welled up in Rumi's eyes, a mixture of joy and relief flooding her heart. Hamza's understanding and unconditional love embraced her like a warm embrace, erasing her doubts and fears. She sobbed, her emotions cascading like a waterfall. "This is why I knew falling for the guy who carried around books with my name was the right choice." She managed to say through her tears, a hint of a smile gracing her lips, remembering him telling her that Rumi was his favourite poet.

He laughed then, rubbing her tears away again. "I love you." He whispered.

Her breath hitched at his heartfelt confession, her heart leaping with joy and disbelief. The words hung in the air, shimmering with significance. Rumi couldn't help but gasp, her eyes locked with Hamza's, the depth of his love reflected in his gaze.

A mixture of emotions swirled within her—love, fear, and the remnants of past wounds. Rumi had learned to guard her heart fiercely, hesitant to fully embrace love due to the scars of her past. Her mind raced, grappling with the intensity of her feelings and the fear of vulnerability.

She liked Hamza. She knew she was falling for him. But was she in love with him? The kind of love that Meerab had for Murtasim? The I will jump in front of a bullet for you kind of love, and I will burn the world down for you kind of love? She wasn't sure.

Sensing her hesitation, Hamza's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. He reached out, gently placing his hand over hers, offering reassurance and support. "You don't have to say them back." He whispered, his voice infused with tenderness. "Take your time, Rumi. I know it's hard for you to trust, to let someone in completely."

Rumi's eyes filled with gratitude as she listened to his compassionate words. The weight of her insecurities felt a little lighter in that moment, knowing that she didn't have to rush or force herself to reciprocate immediately. "It's not that I don't...it's just...I need to be sure."

He nodded. "I understand."

Tears shimmered in Rumi's eyes as she mustered the courage to speak, her voice quivering with vulnerability. "Thank you." She whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. "For understanding me and giving me the space to process. I want to love you, Hamza, but it's – I need to learn to trust and let go of my fears with you."

Hamza smiled, his eyes brimming with unwavering support. "I'll be here every step of the way." He assured her, his words infused with warmth.

Rumi felt a glimmer of hope ignite within her, a flicker of trust emerging from the depths of her heart.

Rumi's lips trembled with nervous anticipation as she mustered the courage to reach up and place a gentle kiss on Hamza's cheek. The soft touch of her lips against his skin carried a tender declaration of her affection, a silent expression of the feelings that blossomed within her.

Blushing, she pulled away slightly, her heart pounding in her chest. Doubts and insecurities threatened to surface, questioning whether her action was too forward or if she had overstepped her boundaries. But as she glanced at Hamza, her worries melted away, replaced by the warmth of his smile.

As Rumi attempted to pull away, a sudden realization dawned upon her. Her delicate necklace, adorned with a small pendant, had become entangled with the button on Hamza's kurta. She let out a soft gasp, her eyes widening in surprise.

Hamza, noticing her predicament, smiled affectionately and gently reached out to untangle the necklace. His fingers moved with careful precision, delicately maneuvering the chain away from the button. Each touch sent a spark of electricity through Rumi's veins, intensifying the magical atmosphere surrounding them.

Rumi couldn't help but feel a surge of joy and amusement as she observed the scene unfolding before her. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a perfect Bollywood moment for her!

Her heart fluttered with happiness, grateful for the serendipitous entanglement that brought them closer together. She couldn't resist a giggle, her laughter filling the air as Hamza skillfully freed the necklace from its captive embrace.

Their eyes met once more, their gazes locked in a shared understanding of the enchantment that enveloped them. In that moment, Rumi felt the world around them fade into the background, leaving only the palpable connection between their souls.

A soft giggle escaped Rumi's lips, a release of the nervous energy that had built up within her. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a newfound confidence and comfort in Hamza's presence.

"So...you should probably tell me when you started liking me if you're already in love with me." She said as she sat on the ledge of the fountain.

He laughed as he sat down beside her. 

------

A/N: A lot of y'all asked for Rumi x Hamza, so tada! Let me know what you think (esp about our smitten babies who keep cuddling and being affectionate in front of their cousins, haha).