"What are you looking for?" Mikaeel asked after watching her rifle through her bags for almost 10 minutes.

She was still living out of her bags for the past 2 weeks considering there was no place to store her clothes in the lounge.
"For a pair of leggings," she said distractedly as she unzipped her purple suitcase for the third time. He couldn't handle seeing all those clothes and all those bags on his bed. It was frustrating him to watch her throw her clothes all over the place and he was very, very close to yelling at her to just stop.

He left the room and came back without her even noticing.

"Here." He threw a grey pair of leggings at her pile of clothes.

She picked it up, smiling slightly at the fact that he even bought her a pair to match her dress. She shouldn't have been surprised though. He was nothing if not particular about the clothes that he wore. "Thank you."

He waved her away as he walked out the door. "We're late already."

"Oh hey." She followed him slowly out into the passage.

"What?"

"Could you drive my car please? It hasn't been used in over three months and I don't see myself driving anytime soon." She asked warily.

"Where's your keys?"

"Uhm... Upstairs in the draw by the mirror."

He sighed, turning back around without a word.

"Thank you," she said weakly, wincing at his reaction before she slowly made her way out the door.

"Your gear shift is so fucking stiff," he muttered angrily as he shifted into third gear.

"I was supposed to get the car serviced before I got sick." She tried to explain.

"How the fuck were you driving this thing before? I'm surprised you didn't get into a accident with this."

"It was fine when I was driving it." She looked at him, annoyed that he was berating her as if she were a child. "It just hasn't been used in a long time, is all."

"I'm booking a service this week. How long before your service plan expires?"

"By next year." She said, trying to calculate it in her head. She had bought the car when they just moved back to South Africa. That was about 3 years ago and she had a 5 year plan so she was still okay.

He just nodded at her before he switched on her radio.

This love has taken it's-

"The fuck..." he muttered as he shook his head and ripped the USB out of its slot before dropping it onto her lap. She said nothing on the matter. She just stored her USB in the cubbie.

 Best he not know what other things she had playing on her list.

...

"Breathe in for me." Dr. Krenak asked gently as he held the stethoscope to her chest and listened carefully. "Now breathe out."

Hoori was used to this by now. She was sure she had memorised the procedure to a tee but the only thing that threw her off was Mikaeel. She usually came with Aunty Mariam and had her wait outside while she answered all of Dr. Krenaks more embarrassing questions but...

Dr. Krenak was only too happy to usher Mikaeel in as well.

"Breathe in again." He asked, smiling slightly at the way she squirmed as the cold metal was pressed against her back. "I'm sorry." He apologised softly.

"Now breathe out." Hoori breathed out, awaiting his next instruction.

"So, I'm happy with your results and your progress." He sat down on the low stool besides the bed as linked his fingers together on his lap.

"Ya?" It was the first time he actually said that. Usually he was just marginally pleased that things were getting better.

"Ya." He smiled brightly at her. "You're doing well, my girl."

"That's good to know." Hoori breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt as if her hope was sort of renewed again as she took in Dr. Krenak's bright smile.

"It is." He leaned forward slightly, gently flexing her fingers to monitor her movement. "Now tell me about Michelle. You're still seeing her right?" He asked, leaning back on his stool as he noted his observations.

"Three times a week."

"Good. And what's it like? Can you walk by yourself yet?"

"Uhm..." Her eyes flittered towards Mikaeel. He sat up in his seat, listening very intently to their conversation. "I can take a few steps by myself without a walker. But only a few."

"Ya?"

"Uhm hmm."

"What about the rest of your activities? Are you still by your aunty?"

"No I'm back at home and I'm managing okay." She didn't like the way Dr. Krenaks gaze kept flitting towards Mikaeel.

"And you, Mr. Ebrahim?" He asked, turning towards him.

"What about me?" He asked, looking up from his cellphone.

"I take it you've healed well by now?"

"Excuse me?" Mikaeel regarded him dubiously. What the fuck was he talking about?

"The circumsicion." Dr. Krenak answered pointedly.

"Oh." He looked up at Hoori, unamused at the way she tried holding in her smile. "You should ask my wife about that. I think she should be able to answer that question just fine."

Hoori dropped her head into her hands, mortified at his response.

Asshole.

...

"Sorry, man. I took a wrong turn and I landed up in Alex."

"Sorry?"

"You should be fucking sorry! Calling me on a fucking Sunday to move your shit again."

Hoori didn't actually know what to think when she heard Is'haaq's loud voice booming throughout their townhouse. He was by the front door but she could hear his whining all the way in the kitchen. Even she had to admit that that was quite an impressive feat.

"So what are we moving today?"

Mikaeel spoke too softly and too quickly for her to listen, only doubling her confusion. She didn't even know he had plans to move anything at all.

"Fuck, that thing is solid-" Is'haaq stood dead still as soon as he saw Hoori sitting at the kitchen counter with a book in her hand. "Hi."

"Hi." She greeted back quickly. She was sure from all of them, Is'haaq was the nicest. He had the dirtiest mouth but he was nice. Though she could never keep up with his conversations. He always seemed to fly through 20 different things in a span of 10 minutes. 

"You look different..." He peered at her curiously, trying to figure out what it was about her.

She scratched her neck uncomfortably, never before finding herself under his scrutiny.

"Your hair!" He gasped out. "Who cut your hair? Farah's been nagging for a haircut but she just won't go to that woman that lives next door. She wants to go to a stylist. Do you know how much they-"

"Can I not leave you alone for just a second?" Mikaeel walked back into the kitchen to find Is'haaq going off on one of his tangents while Hoori just stared at him.

"Oh sorry," He coloured, embarrassed at having gone off like that. "It looks good, by the way." He smiled at Hoori before he followed Mikaeel down the passageway.

"Thank you." She called out from behind them.

"What," Is'haaq breathed heavily as they hauled the bureau down the stairs. "the fuck is this shit made off?"

Mikaeel couldn't reply as he led them down the stairs, turning his head around to make sure he knew where he was going.

"You rich fucks." Is'haaq breathed out, before he kept quiet once again.

Mikaeel heaved as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "We need to put this down." He rubbed the back of his neck to wipe off all the sweat that had gathered there before he sat down on the floor next to the huge wooden block.

"You fuckers and your impractical, heavy shit." Is'haaq moaned as he dropped down next to Mikaeel. He was sure even his hair was dripping as he leaned his head against the side of the bureau. "I mean I buy normal crap from Mr. Price but even Farah can move it and have you seen Farah's arms? It's like fucking dental floss but even she can move it!"

"Shut up." Mikaeel closed his eyes as he dropped his head to rest against his knees. "Please."

"'Sorry." Is'haaq breathed out.

"Okay," Mikaeel stood up, once he was able to catch his breath. "Let's just push this into the room."

Is'haaq stayed where he was, resolutely ignoring Mikaeel.

"Get up." Mikaeel clipped him on his ear.

"You're paying me for this shit next time." Is'haaq stated as soon as he stood up.

"Ya, when we move this back upstairs." Mikaeel mumbled.

"Fuck you man..." Is'haaq grumbled as he leaned over the edge and began pushing the bureau. "Look," he nodded towards Hoori, "even your wife is laughing at us."

Mikaeel turned around to see Hoori hiding her face behind her book.

"Just stop talking." Mikaeel sighed as he gripped the side edge and began to pull it across the floorboards, unmindful of Hoori's gaze as she watched them trudge the mammoth of a dresser into the lounge.

...

"He talks a lot." Hoori commented as soon as Mikaeel stepped back into the kitchen almost 2 hours later. He was back later than she expected considering Is'haaq only lived about 20 minutes away. She distinctly heard Is'haaq complaining about the fact that he couldn't find shit in the dark so Mikaeel offered to drive ahead of him.

If she considered offering as Mikaeel calling him a useless bastard.

"He doesn't fucking shut up." He shook his head before he walked over to the fridge.

She watched him as he collapsed tiredly into the chair across from her. "Why did you bring that downstairs though?"

"So I don't have to fetch your shit from upstairs every day."

"Oh." She looked back down at her book. "Thank you."

"Uh huh." He yawned before he stood up again. "Do you need to wash your hair today?"

"Yes."

"Could you just do it now?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay."She knew better than to ask him too many questions especially when he looked as if he was dead on his feet. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No." He looked up at her before he stood up to refill his glass. "Is'haaq forced me to stay for supper."

"Alright then." She stood up, holding on the sides of her walker. "I'll just get my clothes."

"Your clothes from upstairs are on the bed, just by the way." He said as she turned around. "You'll need to pack it away."

"Will do."

She would rather not thank him again. He didn't take to gratitude all that well...

"How did you get this?" His fingers brushed over the slight, peach indentation on her back before his hand found its way to her hair as he rubbed in her conditioner.

She couldn't believe she would actually get accustomed to the feel of him as he helped her wash her hair every second night. It still left her reeling in shock to think about the night he handed her a pair of her underwear before she even stepped into the bathroom without any explanation before he stood outside the door, waiting for her to get changed. He said nothing as he stepped into the shower with her and he helped her to wash her hair before he stepped back out and waited for her on the counter, closing his eyes as he relaxed against the mirror.

He was just puzzling and he puzzled her to no end.

"What?" She turned her head, trying to get a glimpse at what it was he was pointing to.

"This scar here." He pointed at it once again before he stretched over her to remove the showerhead from its hold.

"Uhm..." She thought back to when she had gotten it. "I fell backwards onto the corner of the side table."

He ran his fingers through her hair, adjusting the water temperature before he washed out her hair once again. "When did it happen?"

"I was about 15. We were still in London when it happened."

"I see." He stretched up and placed the showerhead back in its place before he stepped out of the shower again. He took his place against the mirror and waited for her to be to finish up. He was sure he would fall asleep there and then if not for the uncomfortable sensation of the tiny droplets of water running down his back as the steam of the shower rolled down the face of the mirror.

"Mikaeel." She tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ya." He jolted awake, blinking at her as he gained his bearings.

"You can go and shower now." She smiled up at him, before she walked out of the bathroom.

"Fucking finally..."

...

She was sitting on the bed, folding all of her clothes into neat squares by the time he walked into the room.

"Tell Is'haaq thanks for me." She said quietly as he slid under the duvet. Thankfully his side of the bed was cleared of everything.

"I'd rather not. He'll start moaning about it again."

"Please." She looked up at him, beseeching him with her eyes.

He picked up his phone and texted him quickly before he rested his head against the headboard and watched her work.

He never in his wildest imagination would have suspected his wife to have a thing for nightwear but judging by the shit covering his bed...

She was obsessed.

There were nighties for bloody Africa strewn all over the place and from what he felt, they were not the cheap ones. He gripped the thin halter straps of a particularly familiar white nightie in his hand, feeling just a little too smug as he looked at her.

"Why don't you wear this one anymore?"

She looked back at him, gasping as she wrenched the silky material out of his hands and buried it under the monstrous pile before her. That was one nightie that he wouldn't be seeing her in ever, ever again if she had her way.

Just thinking about the last time she wore that particular one still had her blushing till her toes in embarrassment and she would rather not relive said time again. It wasn't that she minded showing off... all it had to show off. He had already seen her in much less.

But the cringeworthy memories it brought back...

She was only 23. What did she even know about marriage? She didn't even have Jannat to be her guinea pig anymore. She was supposed to get married first and tell her every minute, sordid detail.

Now, she only had Aunty Mariam and she supposed she had her mother too but... Her mother wasn't very good at giving advice.

What was she supposed to do with him now that they were alone in the room?

She didn't even know what to say to him or what to talk about and every time he looked at her, she was sure she would melt into a puddle. Why did he have to be so handsome?

"I need to fetch something from the car." He mumbled quickly before he walked out the room.

That worked well for her. She could get unchanged and changed into her nightie and nightgown before he walked back in and she would be saved the awkward experience of having him watch her walk out of the bathroom all... scantily dressed.

At least she chose something long. It was only the first night, she couldn't go showing him her legs just yet.

She did love this nightie though. It was the one Jannat bought for her for her 18th birthday and she always said she would keep it for a special occasion and what could be better than on her wedding night.

It was a deep navy made of soft silk and it felt as if it was heaven in fabric form. It was long and it brushed against the floor if she stood still but she liked it that way. There was something just so elegant and beautiful about it that it made her feel as if she was a different person altogether. Jannat knew her taste to a tee and it showed in the things she bought for her.

There was just something magical about it and she remembered falling in love with it the first time she had ever set eyes on it- even with the deep v-neck that showed just a little more than she was used to.

She was sure they wouldn't... do anything. He didn't seem the type to be overly affectionate and they had barely even had a proper conversation as yet. She was almost certain he didn't have any expectations. Right?

She opened her bag carefully, worried that the material of her nightie might somehow get caught between the metal teeth of the zip and be ruined entirely.

Oh God.

Where was it?

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit!

She prodded at the white fabric as if it were something poisonous.

She knew she should have never let her aunty into her room!

It could only have been her who did it. Possibly Sabreen.

Sabreen was quick enough to make the switch.

 They were always against her wearing her preferred nightie. They practically begged Hoori to wear something else but whatever it was that they were suggesting just wasn't her. She couldn't parade herself before him (a virtual stranger!) wearing see-through scraps of material.

But there it was.

She lifted the nightie out of the suitcase by its thin straps...

It was beautiful. It was very, very beautiful but it was also very, very revealing. She turned it around gingerly and she was sure her eyes would have popped clean out her skull.

It left her entire back open!

Completely!

She stood up, holding the nightie before her as she examined it carefully.

It was pure white with white embroidery along the bust line and white lace along the bottom- the very, very short bottom. The two thin straps along the top of the nightie would tie behind her neck but it would also be the only thing keeping it up.

She couldn't even wear a bra with it!

She scratched around in her bag, praying her aunty had been kind enough to pack in a matching nightgown.

She picked up the white material triumphantly, almost yelling in delight.

Oh.

It was see-through.

Completely see-through. She couldn't hide anything with it.

Oh god.

She was sure she was going to have a heart attack and die there and then.

She had never in her life considered buying something like this...this... beautiful abomination!

She unzipped her dress quickly before carefully fitting on the nightie.

She couldn't even look at herself in the mirror.

She couldn't let him see her like this. It was too soon. Much too soon to have him looking at her practically naked.

She walked back into the room slowly, praying he wouldn't be there.

She breathed out a sigh of relief when the room was still blissfully empty before she ran to the bed and buried herself beneath the covers.

Her face was still aflame as she heard him twist the handle before he walked in slowly.

She closed her eyes quickly, hoping she was still capable of pretending to sleep. She hadn't needed to fake-sleep in years and she was sure she would start smiling and give herself away- as is the case when one is so frightfully nervous.

He walked in, softening his steps as he took in her closed eyes before he walked onto the balcony, switching off the lights on his way.

Her eyes bolted open at the feeling of his back against her chest.

He wasn't wearing a top!

Oh. 

My. 

Lord.

And when did she get so close to him?

She moved her hand slowly away from where it was pushed up against his back before she turned away from him very, very slowly.

She rustled the duvet as she tried pulling it to cover herself once again but it was caught under his arm.

She tugged at it gently, hoping it might give but the duvet was tucked too tightly beneath him for it to move even an inch.

She tugged once more before he sat up, looking at her blearily through sleepy eyes.

"Will you stop it already?" He looked down at her moodily. He never was a morning person and to have someone tug at his arm incessantly was beginning to bug him. "Oh."

Her back was towards him and she had yet to cover herself up with the duvet before he decided to wake up. He swore he saw even the skin of her back flush red as she tugged hard at the duvet, covering herself till her shoulders before she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

Well then...

He laid back down, throwing his arm over his eyes as he went back to sleep.

He woke up to the sound of soft beeps coming from besides him.

The room was dark except for the soft, blue glow of her laptop as it continued to beep madly.

He turned around slowly and was met with sight of his wife sleeping soundly on her pillow as her laptop rested open near his head.

He was all but prepared to close it leave it there but...

What was she doing on her laptop at 3 in the morning?