ZAKRIYA ISLAM

I was still feeling drowsy when my alarm in my cell phone set off beneath my pillow. I turned it off so as to not disturb Amber. She's usually sleep at this time and even though I had offered her many times to wake with me for fajr, I just don't get why she shows disdain towards it. Slowly, I got up from bed and prepared for fajr. After I was done, I got back to bed. Amber was sleeping in my direction.

I slowly and carefully crept under the covers, my eyes trailing on her features. She always looked so peaceful in her sleep: so free and careless and not to mention defenseless. Without realizing, my the back of my index finger ran over her cheek. She stirred a bit so I quickly withdrew. I straightened on my back and placed my hand under my head as I stared at the ceiling.

It's a Saturday today and I have no idea how I should spend my day. I know that Amber goes to practice so that'll leave me with myself.

The next time I woke up was to the intensity of the sunlight falling onto my closed eyes and the sound of the curtain being withdrown.

"Good morning," I heard the cheery voice of Amber. I opened my eyes and rubbed my face. Sitting up, I felt a presence besides me.

"Good morning," I replied in a thick voice laced with sleep and looked at her only to be taken aback.

She was looking so nice: her usually tied up hair was cascading down to her waist. She was dressed in a floral shalwar kameez and wore the necklace that I had given her. Her eyes were rimmed with a dark liner and her lips were glossy pink.

"Is it Eid or something?" I said and rubbed my eyes again. "Because I would've known if it was if it was." I speculated, remembering whether what occasion it could possibly be but couldn't recall.

"No, of course not." She replied, her tone gentle and encouraging. Again I was taken aback and gawked at her. This isn't like her.

Okay first of all, she's usually dressed up for work at this time. Speaking of time, I glanced at the clock and came to know that it was past 10 am. Shouldn't she be gone to work by now.

"What's the occassion?" I inquired. She shrugged. "Nothing, I just figured that I should dress up a little. Why do you ask? Do I look over dressed or something?" She inquired, her composed features contorting into concern.

My lips quirked up and I shook my head. "You look very nice." I commented. A slowly blush crept at her face. "But what made you decide such a change?"

She shrugged. "We're newlyweds aren't we? It's tradition for newlywed women to dress up nicely for their husbands." She informed. I liked that idea. It would be so cool if she did that everyday, but I mustn't get my hopes up.

"What about work?"

"I called in for a leave. Now get freshen up, I have breakfast ready." She said and left the room. I rubbed my chin in contemplation. What's she upto? Something seems off and I can't quite put my finger on it. Normally, I would've thought that this behavior coming from a woman is natural but this was Bree that I was talking about: there must be a motive behind her doing this.

When I got to the kitchen, I smelled something delicious. As I sat on the table, Amber brought in a big pot and then proceeded to put three bowls on the table. That's weird. My usual breakfast of pancakes and eggs was missing.

"You've been living in Pakistan so a little while now and I didn't had ebough time to let you experience the customs and food of my country. So from now on, I'll cook Pakistani food." She declared and sat beside me. Her usual seat was always placed at a distance but this morning, she wa sitting very close to me.

"This is a paratha. I'm sure you've learned about it in the language centre." She said as she placed a rounded greasy slice on my plate. I nodded in agreement. "And this is chana masala," she said and poured it in a plate for me. "In Pakistan when eat our food that usually consists of curry or masala. Masala is this paste like mixture," she pointed and proceeded to tell me how it's made. I just stared at her. This is the first time she's been so descriptive.

I felt something touch my lips and realized that she was holding a morsel to my mouth. I opened my mouth while my eyes stayed on her.

"What?" She inquired and began to withdrew her hand but I caught her wrist and licked her fingers.

With brown against blue, our gazes remained locked with one another. Silence shrouded us. It was a moment that we felt connected in a weird way.

"It's delicious." I muttered, breaking the silence. She blinked and snatched her hand away, her eyes and cheeks ablaze.

"Why didn't you make something like this before?" I inquired because ever since I came here, I didn't get an opportunity to try Pakistani food because she always made food tgat consisted of a typical New York cuisine.

"I thought you wouldn't approve. That's why but if you want, I can start making Pakistani food from now on." She stipulated.

"I would like that very much."

She nodded and began to eat herself. Like she was eating, I also rolled some masala on the paratha and ate. It was sort of weird to be earing with my hands but also fun at the same time. I found myself enjoying breakfast tgat morning. Later that day, Amber took me for some shopping. She wanted me to buy some shalwar Kurta for myself. I was glad because this was our second outing together.

But whenever I would try to pay, she had already done so. "Consider these as gifts from me." She said. We were at the food court now and had given our order.

I raised a brow. "Oh yeah? But you had rejected the gifts that I had given you." I countered, feeling childish. She stared at me and I noticed her fingers carass the necklace. "Did I?" She also raised a brow and got up to get our order. I chuckled to myself when I realized the meaning behind her gesture.

She came back with our food and we ate in silence. When we got home later, she asked me try on the new clothes that we bought. While I changed, Amber retreated to her study. The shirt was easy to wear but I needed help with the pants. There wasn't any elastic in them but a loose string of sorts.

"Let me," she came from behind me, her hands carassing my waist as they made their way to the string. Her heated presence behind me caused a chill to run down my spine as her warm breath could be felt on my shoulders even through the thick cloth of the fabric. I could feel her soft hair carass the nape of my neck. My heart was beating so fast.

"There." She said and began to remove her hands but I caught them, interwined our fingers together and placed then on my chest. I could feel her face buried in my shoulder blade.

"Your scent. It's so nice." I heard her mutter. I chuckled and she stilled. I rounder her around and saw that her cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated and eyes hooded, a small smile adorning her face. It's weird because it was only evening now and she looked weary but who cares. I smiled as well.

"Ah, there it is. Keep smiling." She uttered, cupping the left side of my cheek as her thumb touched my lips. Laying a kiss on her thumb, I caught her hand in mine, a sudden urge building in me to kiss her senseless. She looked so cute and innocent right now, almost as if her guard was completely down. I passed a hand through her open hair and shifted them to the left side of head. The pad of my thumb ran over her glossy lips and I so badly wanted to take her then.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?" I murmured to her, my forehead resting on her as my eyes bore deeply into hers. Her eyes wavered and shut. I saw her swallow and didn't get a reply. And when her eyes opened, she looked at me with a distant thoughtful look.

"Why do you do that?" I said in a low voice.

"Do what?" she countered.

"Look at me so awkwardly when I call you beautiful?" I inquired. She divereted her eyes to my chest. "Why do you do that too?" I asked and removed my forehead from hers.

"What?"

"Look everywhere else when you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous." She muttered, her fingers buttoning my collar. I sighed; she isn't gonna answer, that much I've figured out.

"So, how do I look?" I asked, my arms flying away from my body for a better view.

"As handsome as ever." She replied, her gaze on my body as her hands swiped from my collar to my shoulders. I noticed that it was intensely lustful. I smirked.

"Oh really?" I challenged.

"Hmm," she agreed and came close to me. Oh she wants me, but I'm gonna have her beg for that.

"Come on, let's take a picture." I suggested and drew her closer. Taking out my phone, I hovered it in the air. Pulling her closer with her shoulders, I grinned into the camera. "Come on smile, Bree." I said. She looked up towards the camera and gave me a small smile. I captured the picture and saved it.

"You should do that too." I uttered, my eyes scanning the picture in the phone. "What?"

I beamed at her and squeezed her shoulder. "Smile often. Follow your own advise too." I encouraged. She simply shrugged and released my hold on her.

Suddenly, the sexual tension between us had dissipated—oh well, best save it for the night.

"So," she began and sat on the bed. "What's your favorite sport?"

My eyes widened with surprise—no, surprise is an understatement—I was baffled. Was Amber actually asking me about myself? Was the Amber Zaid actually showing interest in getting to know me?

I smirked and folded my arms together—I so wanted to tease her but I decided against it because I know that she would change her mind and I didn't want that; she had finally decided to open herself to me after all.

"Football."

She nodded. Her expression was so passive that I couldn't read it but the stream of questions went on and on. We laughed, we agreed and we even had an argument.

That night she made another Pakistani dish called 'Pulao'. It smelled divine when I sat on the table. "This is delicious." I exclaimed in glee, moaning as I savored the taste. She nodded.

"A friend of mine wanted to meet with you—so I think we'll invite them over for dinner tomorrow." She informed.

"I think it's a great idea." I agreed wholeheartedly. However, something irritated my throat and I coughed. "And speaking of friends—I think we should be good friends from now on." She said solemnly. "I have always been a loyal and faithful friend to others; eventually we'll grow fond of each other. I don't think that there's any need for love in our relationship." She stipulated.

What? I frowned and stared at her in bewilderment. We were going so good and finally on the same page and she had to go ad ruin it. My chest felt tight and I began to cough.

"What do you," cough, "Mean? I mean," cough, "We were just," and I began to cough uncontrollably. "What's wrong?" she asked and grabbed my shoulder. I shook my head and caught my throat. And then it clicked.

"Was there cinnamon in this?" in asked through coughs. She nodded, her features contorted into worry and uneasiness.

"Yes,"

"I'm allergic to cinnamon," I said and fell to the floor, trying hard to breath but my lungs felt constricted and my throat blocked.

"Oh my God, do you have an Epipen?" she shouted. I nodded but before I could answer, I saw black and drifted into darkness.

************

AMBER ZAID

Yes, that's right—we can be good friends; that's the only relationship that I'm willing to allow. And we have excellent chemistry in bed so there isn't any need to get too deeply involved into each other's lives—after all, no person stays with you forever. People are so fickle anyways, especially men—if I am willing to compromise even a little bit now doesn't mean that I'm ready to make myself so vulnerable as to fall in love. That's a mistake that I'm not going to make ever.

I was pulled out of my reverie when he started to cough and wouldn't stop. His face became red with dyspnea (shortness of breath), I immediately recognized it to be anaphylaxis (allergic reaction). Before he could reply where his epipen was, he passed out cold. With my heart pounding, I checked his pulse—it was rapid. I only had three minutes to restore his breathing; Alhamdulillah for the hours of ER I had attended to which had trained me to deal with such situations—without wasting any time, I made it to my bathroom cabinet and searched for anything that resembled epinephrine; anything to help him breath and keep him at bay till I take him to the hospital. I grabbed a syringe and kept searching until I caught a bottle of liquid benedryl that I kept around for my pimple problem. It's good enough. I rushed to him and checked

Administering 50 cc's of the liquid, I quickly injected it into the lateral side his thigh. I made it within two minutes and soon enough, he started to breath a little. I quickly called in an ambulance and within minutes we were on our way to the hospital. My heart was still pounding in my chest when they started treating him—I couldn't believe that I remained calm. But Subhan Allah, Allah gave me the strength to save his life today.

I breathed a sigh of relief when his breathing became normal and the effects of anaphylaxis began to wear off after a few hours.

I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep. I jerked awake. Zac was staring at me with an eager ear to ear grin lighting his face. Again that goofy yet solemn look touched his eyes and even though I would usually feel annoyed by it but at this moment I thanked Allah so much that he was okay and acting normal.

"What?" I asked. His brows jumped and his gaze travelled to our hands—I realized that I was holding his hand with both of mine. I swallowed and deiced to remove but he gripped my right hand.

"Bree, the wager isn't off. There will be love in our relationship. This I promise." He vowed. I stared at him with trepidation—he's always adamant. Ya Allah, this man!

VOTE AND COMMENT AND PRMOTE.

ALSO CAN ANYONE MAKE ME A NEW COVER? I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE THAT--IT SHOULD BE THE SAME AS THIS ONE OR AT LEAST THE THEME/ IDEA SHOULD REMAIN THE SAME.