...

Tahir.

It's said that humans can get lost in the depths of another person's eyes. With my gaze trained on Khadijah's wide, expressive eyes, I reluctantly relinquished my hold on her robe, deciding that it was best to cover her up first before checking on her injury.

Unable to believe the hurt and stubborn girl whom I'd seen in her barest form, I scanned the room for something to clothe her in and help her feel comfortable. My eyes landed on the flimsy nightdress she had left behind in the bathroom. I gently helped her into it while she kept her gaze cast down, painfully shy. The tension in her rigid posture and her earnest attempt to avoid meeting my eyes made her discomfort evident.

As soon as the robe slipped away and exposed her bare skin, my hands and eyes instinctively focused on her arm, which, as expected, was bruised and chafed. I carefully applied a soothing ointment to the bruised skin, ensuring to massage the area gently to alleviate the pain while paying close attention to her sniffles and the sharp gasps that escaped her lips.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, hoping to soothe her, "This will help reduce the soreness in your arm, okay?"

She nodded, unable to respond verbally, squeezing my hand tighter whenever I rubbed the tender area. Once I finished, I blew a soft breath over her arm and set the kit aside. Then, I wrapped her in my arms and let her cry in earnest.

I was surprised at how much of a crybaby Khadijah could be. Her lips quivered as she sobbed silently. Sitting on the bed, I rocked her for several minutes until her sobs began to subside.

"You still haven't prayed," I whispered against her head. Her wide eyes met mine, and she instantly tried to spring from my arms to her feet.

With a subtle shake of my head, I nodded toward the bathroom, unwilling to let go of her. I led her there, helped her perform ablution, and then retrieved a hijab for her before stepping aside to give her space for her prayer.

"You should try to get some sleep," I suggested, patting the bed I occupied.

In truth, I had no intention of leaving the room until I was completely sure that she was feeling better. Knowing Khadijah, she could easily encounter another mishap that might worsen her already injured arm. So I stayed close to ensure that didn't happen.

Khadijah nodded, approaching the bed with hesitant steps while glancing at me from the corner of her eye. I took my phone out of my pocket, trying to provide her with privacy so she could make herself comfortable in her own space without my presence being a source of distraction or discomfort.

Perhaps it dawned on her that I wasn't planning to leave, or maybe my presence no longer bothered her; either way, she carefully removed the hijab, folding it with some difficulty before placing it in the wardrobe. She climbed into bed, slipping beneath the covers, and hissed when her arm made contact with the mattress. Naturally, she had laid on her right arm, which was still sore.

With a swift movement, I turned to her and adjusted her position, encouraging her to lie on her back instead. With ease, I pulled the covers over both of us, attentively watching her face for any further signs of distress.

"I thought you were leaving for your room," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as my arms encircled her, drawing her closer.

"You shouldn't lie on your back, and definitely not on your hurting arm," I countered softly, gently bringing her petite body to rest against mine.

She stiffened, her heartbeat escalating. I could feel the rapid pulsing against my skin.

Rubbing my hand soothingly over her back, I spoke above her head. "This is a good position for you. Sleep now, Khadijah. Let me take care of you."

Her fingers flexed in response, then they wrapped around my arm. "Thank you!" she mumbled, briefly lifting her head to meet my gaze.

I responded with a nod, the innocence in her eyes stirring my blood. Unable to say anything, I simply nodded again, wondering how I was expected to find peace in this position, with Khadijah's soft body pressed against mine and her fingers tracing circles over my arm.

My pulse raced, a knot forming in my throat. Then, her breath slowed, settling into a steady rhythm, and she promptly fell asleep, her body relaxing against mine. The contrast between her peaceful slumber and the storm of emotions within me left me with a raging throb, a blend of protectiveness, longing, and an undeniable desire.

...

A low murmur roused me from sleep. Feeling her warm presence against my body, I hesitated to alert her that I was awake, choosing instead to listen to her silent musings, intruding on her privacy.

"All tough on the outside but not so much on the inside; who would've thought? Definitely not me." She shifted slightly, attempting to move out of my embrace.

On instinct, my arms tightened around her, and I caught the sharp intake of breath as it escaped her lips. "Are you awake?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

"I am," I replied in a similar tone, keeping my eyes closed, not quite ready to leave the warmth she provided.

She made a soft humming sound, trying once more to wiggle her way out of my hold. I leaned closer, muttering in her ear, "Careful there," and felt her stiffen, her shoulders shaking as she buried her face against my chest.

Raising her head slightly, I realized that, contrary to my initial thought, Khadijah was actually laughing. Subconsciously, I found myself smiling with her, our eyes locking.

I managed to recover first, gently keeping her beside me on the bed while ensuring that I didn't inadvertently jolt her injured arm during the process. "How do you feel now?" I asked, sliding out of bed and turning to face away from her, willing myself to remain calm and quell my reaction to the warmth of her body against mine.

"It doesn't even hurt anymore. See? It's all good!" Her bright smile infused the air with a lightness that made me feel good.

With a nod, I released a deep breath before turning to see just how good it really was. "Have you always been such a crybaby?"

Khadijah nodded enthusiastically twice. "Yes! It's very nice."

"Crying is nice?" I asked for confirmation, raising an eyebrow in mild disbelief. Again, she nodded vigorously.

"It is!" she exclaimed, her childlike exuberance shining through.

I shook my head subtly, a small smile tugging at my lips as I glanced at the clock on the wall. A realisation dawned on me, prompting a soft chuckle to escape my lips. I had missed my morning run. My mind struggled to recall the last time I had done so, but I couldn't.

This was a first.

"Something wrong?" she asked, slipping into her hijab and heading straight to her wardrobe, flinging the door open.

"I missed my morning run." I admitted.

Her face turned towards me in surprise, her eyes widening. "You do that? I mean, I had no idea! You can do it now, right?"

"I'll be busy making you breakfast. No time for that anymore," I replied, making my way out of the room, granting her the privacy to change, and meet me in the kitchen.

Before I closed the door behind me, I caught her staring at me with a peculiar look in her eyes. My lips curled into a smile at the expression, and the moment the door shut, I began pondering what to make her for breakfast. First, I made my way to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and strode to my initial destination.

Knowing Khadijah's impressive cooking skills from all the times I had the privilege of enjoying the meals she prepared for Mukhtar, me, and all our friends—especially those late-night dishes that always hit the right spot—I found myself pondering what on earth I could make that would taste anything above bland to her refined tastebuds.

Hell, I used to think about how lucky the man she would eventually marry would be. It struck me as funny that I had turned out to be that lucky guy.

Taking our fate in stride was the only option as far as I was concerned. Thankfully, Khadijah had started to act like her normal self again; not the timid version of herself who regarded me with the caution one might reserve for a villain in her story, or the one that amused me, when she behaved all snarky and witty. I still couldn't fully wrap my head around the fact that I had shared a bed with Khadijah, and my mind frequently wandered back to that reality, yearning for a repeat—or several.

Soft pitter-patter reached my ears, soon followed by her "Salaam." I craned my neck to see her standing there in a cute, free-flowing dress. A small smile pulled at her lips when she found me standing by the coffee table, lost in contemplation over what to prepare.

"Done?" she asked, peering around for any signs of progress in my food-prepping endeavors.

"What do you want to eat?" I inquired, moving around the kitchen, searching for inspiration.

"Anything you feel like making," she replied, making herself comfortable on a chair.

Beneath my breath, I muttered, "That helps," and resumed my pacing.

"Or you could make us tea while I help with what Ammi sent. Sa'eedah just dropped off breakfast," she added.

Ammi, the lifesaver.

My shoulders sagged in relief at that information. Next time, I vowed to do my homework and research easy breakfast options before promising to cook.

I prepared coffee exactly the way I liked it, asking Khadijah for her specific preference. She chose tea with an ungodly amount of sugar and milk; two ingredients I typically avoided.

As Khadijah moved about the kitchen, looking perfectly at home, I watched her, a sense of something like pride and gratitude swelling within me; it was definitely a mix of both feelings. Once everything was ready, we decided to eat on the carpet in the living room.

We ate at a leisurely pace, sharing the same plate at my insistence. After we finished, we both leaned back, reveling in the comfortable silence and tranquility of the moment. The TV played softly in the background, helping to keep my mind engaged while Khadijah was engrossed in her phone, her fingers dancing over the screen with focused intensity.

"Can I ask you something?" Khadijah said suddenly, her eyes skeptical as she worriedly chewed on her lower lip.

"Of course you can. You should be open with me, Khadijah. Feel free to ask me anything," I reassured her, tilting my head slightly to show I was genuinely interested.

"Can you please take me to Amna's place? Please." Her question caught me off guard; we hadn't even been married for a week yet. It felt too early for such a request.

I swiped my tongue across my lower lip to buy myself a moment to think. "Can't she come over instead?" I asked, trying to find another option.

Khadijah's lips automatically pulled into a pout. "That was the initial plan, but Amna's not feeling well, and I really need to see her." She explained hurriedly, her eyes blinking rapidly as if fighting back tears.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, my mind racing to find the right words to appease her. "How about we go see her tomorrow, then?" I suggested, attempting to soften the blow.

At my suggestion, she made a small sound of disappointment, causing me to turn my head in her direction. Much to my surprise, Khadijah was on the brink of tears. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with unshed tears, the pronounced pout on her lips making me feel like I was a bully.

"It's alright, Khadijah. We can go check up on Amna," I relented without putting up a fight, knowing that getting out for a bit would be refreshing for both of us.

Her eyes widened dramatically, the expression on her face transforming instantly, a complete contrast to her previous sadness.

"You don't know how happy you've just made me!" she squealed enthusiastically, jumping up from the carpet and taking our plate and mugs to the kitchen, her steps quick and light with excitement.

When she returned, the largest grin I'd ever seen in my life lit up her face. It was wide, beautiful, and utterly contagious. A surge of pride rushed through me, realising that my decision had contributed to her happiness.

Now I knew why Mukhtar truly couldn't refuse Khadijah anything. Her excitement was a joy-giver.

"I need to get dressed, and you should too, please, Tahir! I can't wait to be there. I have so much to do. And maybe we could make a short stop at..."

"Come here, Khadijah," I murmured, stretching out my hand for her to take. The skeptical expression from earlier, before she blossomed into a happy creature, returned. But she nonetheless complied, shifting slightly closer to me, her joy palpable.

From the look in her eyes, I could tell she felt the slightest bit out of sorts with our close proximity, but I pressed until her face was mere inches away from mine. Leaning in just a tad closer, I whispered my request directly into her ear, my voice low and husky.

"Can I kiss you?" A shudder coursed through her arm at the question. "Please, I really want to kiss you, Khadijah." I turned my face to meet her gaze, but her eyes fluttered shut.

"But it's okay if you're not comfortable, or if you don't want me to," I assured her, wanting her to know that she had the freedom to refuse, and I wouldn't press the issue.

A moment passed in silence, then she nodded, very subtly.

"Yes to the question or the statement?" I asked to clarify, the blood in my veins singing in anticipation, simmering to a low boil.

"To both," Khadijah breathed out in the huskiest whisper, her words embedding themselves beneath my pulse like a sweet, intoxicating melody.

Tilting her head to meet my eyes, I cupped her jaw softly. She looked everywhere but into my eyes, her dark orbs darting downward, almost to the point where they fluttered closed again.

I pressed a soft kiss to the side of her mouth, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from my wife. To ensure fairness, I pressed another kiss to the other side of her mouth, feeling her hand move to clutch my arm tightly. Raising her head higher, my lips found the rapid pulse in her neck, teasing it gently, which made her go limp in my embrace.

Carefully, without her noticing, I drew her completely into my arms, gently placing her over my thighs while continuing to shower tender kisses along the neck I was making love to. Khadijah made soft, breathy noises beneath her breath, sounds I longed to capture with my lips, but I held back, wanting her completely pliant in my arms before giving us both what we desired.

Moving higher, I ran my nose along the beautiful column of her neck, her intoxicating scent threatening to annihilate me. I pursued its main source with a desperation that stunned me, finding a more prominent source at the back of her ear.

Finding her earlobe with my teeth, I tugged gently, whispering directly into her ear, "You're beautiful." I added a soft nip. "Your scent..." Another nibble. "...kills me."

Her response came in the form I craved; she pressed softly against me, allowing herself to get lost in the moment, surrendering herself the way I had dared to hope. A small crumb of what I had become.

Just yesterday, my sisters had gushed over her hair. I had seen it in the past. I also saw it earlier when I tried to wake her for Fajr. Now, I yearned to feel it, to sift my fingers through the small braids I had admired. Slowly, I began to loosen her scarf, one hand eagerly sifting through the strands, its scent beckoning to me. I had no choice but to follow, my lungs expanding with the sheer force of my inhalation. I wanted that bewitching scent engraved in my senses.

Pressing a final kiss to the top of her head, I searched for her gaze, feeling satisfaction coursing through me as I took in the look in her eyes. Her beautiful orbs glistened with emotion, and for a moment, I found it incredibly hard to look away, until she finally did. My attention then shifted lower, to the place I desired most. With one hand cradling her cheek while the other found its home at the nape of her neck, I held her firmly and fused our lips together. The angle, perfect. The pace initially slow, then it escalated to fervent and passionate igniting a fire within me until my sole purpose became the desperate need to be completely lost in Khadijah.

Time passed, though I wasn't sure how long we remained intertwined in that blissful embrace. By the time I was able to let go, we had crossed into another realm entirely; far gone. Knowing the outcome if I didn't rein in my emotions, I carefully placed her on the couch, reluctantly pulling myself away while my body ached for her closeness. My intention was to turn in the direction of the bedroom to regain some semblance of composure.

"We're leaving in an hour, get ready," I announced, forcing my gaze away from her, though it was a futile effort. The magnetic pull of her presence kept drawing my eyes back.

Khadijah, flustered and still caught in the haze of our shared intimacy, searched my eyes with curiosity. "Where?" she asked, her voice soft, confused.

I smiled, my ego effortlessly boosted at the undeniable fact that I had successfully cleared all thoughts from her mind. Even thoughts that held a lot of importance to her.

...

Hello Assalamu Alaikum.

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NanaAmiinah🤍