[Enjoy!]

I found myself awake at 6AM, standing on a prayer mat reading salah with the help of the internet.

Why was I praying?

God knows. Or maybe I do know but it felt weird to articulate it. Him being upset with me saddened me. I don't know why, but it did. Probably because I thought that it would eventually lead to fights with him or him yelling at me and I didn't want our relationship to turn out like my parents'.

After praying I tried memorizing some surahs for salah and got to know that I did remember a few verses.

It wasn't that hard but it took a long time, I wasn't the the type of person who wasted their time on these things. I had never liked doing stuff like this, not even when papa used to force me and bhai to pray. Bhai used to quickly pray and finish and I used to stutter, my Arabic was never good.

I closed the Holy Qur'an and sat on the vanity. It wasn't a bad experience, but it was indeed quite a boring one. Anyways, I prayed for the first time in eight long years. Calls for a party?

I saw Azaan's reflection in the mirror. He sat on the bed and looked fixedly at me as I slowly took off the pins that I had used to set my hijab in place. I looked behind to see him awake.

"Good morning?" I asked, hoping he wasn't upset anymore.

"Good morning," he chuckled in his groggy voice. "That hijab looks good on those PJs." I looked down to see the combination. Lmao. It kind of did.

I smiled and unwrapped it.

"Sawera, you don't know yourself at all." He spoke before going to the washroom. "Hijab looks really good on you."

I rolled my eyes. "I like my hair." I yelled before going back to sleep.

~~~

I woke up with Azaan by my side, reciting the Qur'an in a low voice. I sat up and shifted near him, placing my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and listening to him.

I liked his Arabic accent, even though the language was incomprehensible, it sounded nice. It was probably late in the morning, but my head ached and I didn't feel like getting out of bed.

I looked at him. That's what he does on Sundays? I thought we'd watch some movie or something. I frowned.

I listened to him for a long while with my eyes closed. He put the Qur'an down and I took the opportunity. "I'm going to a friend's house today." I said as he picked a glass of water and sipped it.

"Who?" He questioned putting a hand on my back and looking in my eyes. He doesn't know all my friends, he just knows two. He better not ask how far it is and when am I going to come back. He's not my father.

"Neeti." I told him, uninterested.

"Be back before Maghr- five pm." Why is he interfering in my life when I'm not interfering in his? I'll come back by six.

I took a shower and changed into a light green kurti with white designing.

"You look beautiful in that." I heard him as I walked out of the washroom after blow drying my hair. I looked over the desk, seeing the mess he had created with all those files in just a few minutes. He's a messy workaholic!

I looked up in his eyes and smiled mouthing a thank you. I did a light makeup and put on some perfume, I felt his gaze still on me. I looked at him from over my shoulder. "Have you never seen a beautiful girl before?" I asked and moved my eyes back on the mirror.

"Nope. Not this beautiful." Oh, he wasn't upset at all. "Do you want to make a baby?" I saw my eyes going round in the mirror and felt my breath hitching in my throat. He chuckled. What was wrong with him? I shifted glances all around the room except his portion as I got up and walked to my bedside.

I felt heat reaching my cheeks, I saw him looking on his phone, I fanned my cheeks with my hands, hoping they weren't red. I had never blushed.

And I wasn't blushing then either. That was rather embarassing, my cheeks always reddened in anxiety or anger. "Aww, is someone blushing?" I heard his gruff, deep voice but didn't dare to meet his eyes.

"No." I gainsaid. I wasn't blushing. I gave him a quick once-over and moved my eyes back to my phone. There was a smirk planted on his lips. I walked over to the vanity and picked up a bottle of perfume. "Are you over Kylie?"

From the corner of my eyes, I could see him moving his head back onto the desk with a loud sigh, expressing the irritation I caused him. "Sawera, come here." He spoke in his ruling voice. I looked at him, he was looking on his desk, his back facing me.

"I wouldn't have said that if you hadn't asked about my friends." I shrugged.

He repeated himself.

I sprayed some perfume and slowly pootled to him. "Hm?" I stood in front of him, leaned on the desk, letting the silence bore me while he signed a file of thirty eight counted pages, until he closed it.

He drifted his gaze on me as he slowly moved his weight on his feet. "What's up with you and Kylie?"

"She isn't that important to be talked about. I want to talk about something else, if you have time."

He positioned his body on my side, slowly but steadily hovering over me. "Hm?"

"If you have time." I stared back at his fix look and repeated in a tender voice.

"Hm. Go ahead." His dominant voice transformed my taut stance into a tremulous one, I took a step back as he took a step forward, confining me in the little space between the desk and his hard frame. I gasped as I felt the hard and cold edge of the desk touch my hip, I put my hands next to my hips and moved my eyes downwards. "Sawera?" He asked in honeyed words, making me instinctively look up.

I forgot what I wanted to say!

"You wanted to talk about something important." He feigned helping me, his lips held a lopsided grin while his dark eyes carried mischief. I gazed down at his adam's apple. He sighed audibly, putting his hands above mine. "I guess we will have to stay like this until you remember what you wanted to say."

I agitated my brain for any possible topic, but my brain was determined to embarrass me. I shook my head at him.

"No?" He shook his head, mocking me. He laughed as I nervously shook my head again. "Fine." I expected him to move out of my way, but he slowly stooped down and pecked my lips. A loud smooching sound erupted in the room as he slowly sucked my lips and pulled back.

I opened my eyes to see him looking fiercely at me. Unable to understand that look, I hit his arm away and squirmed out of his area, he pulled my hand stopping me midway. I whined his name, not wanting to turn.

"I have to go to Washington for a week two days after the Walimah."

I rotated to him. "And?" I looked up in his eyes. "Oh, can I come with you?"

"No." He turned around and sat back.

"Please?" I supplicated heading towards his chair and putting a hand over it's head. "I won't disturb you, I promise."

"No, Sawera."

I made my way outside and descended the stairs furiously. I hate his dominant tone of voice and him thinking that he has the right to make decisions for me.

I'll come home by seven o'clock, or maybe even nine, or eleven if I feel like. I sat on the dining table and told a maid to make me some lemon juice. I quickly swilled it down, tip toed to my room, found Azaan lost on a call so I took my car keys and left without leaving a trace.

I sat in the car, confused. I couldn't understand why he was trying to control me when he himself didn't like being controlled.

I didn't want to be there, I wasn't one to be tamed. I'm a strong persona, his dominant character shouldn't affect me. I affirmed to myself.

I drove to Neeti after assuring myself that I'd not let him change anything in me. That was just an awkward moment.

~~~

I came back home at four o'clock, after almost losing my voice fighting Neeti. I parked outside and ran inside to save myself from the cold weather. Thank God I convinced her to come on the Walima though.

I saw Palwasha, bhabhi and Azaan sitting in the living room, discussing the Walima. I sat next to Azaan after saying Salam to everyone.

"Hey, what colour do you like?" He asked putting his arm above the backpillow behind me.

"For the dress? Um, I don't know."

"Black?" He asked. I nodded. "Black is okay." He confirmed looking at bhabhi.

"Oh okay, we'll all wear white with silver and you two will wear black with golden work." Bhabhi wrote that down on a notebook.

"Red matte lipstick on black clothes?" Azaan asked, looking at me. I opened my eyes wide. Damn, he knows what matte means?

I nodded, smiling. "You aren't as old as I thought you were. What else do you know about makeup and cosmetics?"

He laughed. "I don't know anything, I just know that there's lip gloss which is shiny and there's matte which isn't shiny."

Ah, I thought...

They kept on deciding decoration, jewellery, and the catering stuff. Palwasha passed me her iPad and showed me different designs of black gowns.

Azaan clicked on a ballgown and I glared at him. "I'm not wearing a ball gown."

"Okay angry bird," he scrolled down "this one?" He clicked on an elegant floor length, long sleeved and high necked velvet all black evening gown with a horizontal stripe of golden and green beads all around the neck and waist. I'll look so pretty, slim and model-like in this!

"Damn that's beautiful, Azaan!" I raved and showed it to bhabhi who came to sit by my side.

"Hey Azaan, nice choice!" Bhabhi acclaimed. "So this is Sawera's outfit, and Azaan's wearing a black suit, is that right?"

Azaan nodded.

"Sawera, pumps or stilettos? I think cutout heels would look nice." Bhabhi suggested.

"Um... Yeah, probably."

"Peep toe platform t-straps?" Bhabhi and I gasped shocked when we heard Azaan say that. He is a badass!

My eyes went round as I raved; "Yea, I like that!"

"Cute, you and Azaan decide the rest. You both know better." She laughed and got up from my side.

"I'm impressed, man." I extoled his taste in these things. "That was so unexpected!"

"Why so?" He asked, leaning closer.

"You don't look like you know anything about this feminine stuff."

"I actually don't, I read that below the dress, stylist's accessory choice." He relieved me.

"Damn, I thought you were better than me at shopping." I took a sigh of relief, then looked at him confused."Is that bad? That means you can't gift me anything good."

"What do you like?" He smirked leaning more. How close is he going to lean!?

He looked at me tender-heartedly while his lips hovered over mine, he slowly leaned in more and more until bhabhi shouted from the other side of the conversation pit, "Hey! What about the decoration; carnations or roses!?" making Azaan sigh and go back to his place.

I chuckled and looked at bhabhi, "Um, I don't like flowers."

"WHAT!?" Her eyes went round. "You don't like flowers?" She overemphasized. "Who on earth doesn't like flowers!? Sawera you need a check up, you gotta be sick to not like flowers."

"Flowers are overrated." I spoke. "They die in two or three days and need a lot of care and attention and I am dead busy for that."

"I swear," Azaan seconded, "Thank God there is someone who understands that."

"Then what are we going to decorate this house with? Chocolates?" She asked.

"Hm, not a bad idea." He spoke, moving his arm towards my back and stroking it. "I like your choice. No wonder you agreed to marry me without any complaints."

Lmfao, as if I had any other choice.

"I think you're tired." I grinned awkwardly, removing his hand from my back and sitting an inch away. He laughed and went upstairs. I took the responsibility to decide the rest with bhabhi.

~~~

I headed towards my room, making a conference call with all of my friends. Azaan was praying so I wore my earphones and spoke in a low voice.

"I don't know, bhabhi said dadi ammi was nice and stuff but old people are usually strict with traditions and rituals so I hope she doesn't mind the way I speak, walk, eat and etcetera." I sat on the bed and wondered about dadi ammi.

"Etcetera includes the way you breathe?" Ramsha asked.

"Hahaha, you'll be dead in a week." Saima laughed. "Oldies don't like hearing no. Imagine having to say yes all the time. 'Stop breathing Sawera', 'uh, yes dadi ammi.'"

"Lmfao, this week went so dry I thought you just said yes daddy." Neeti snickered.

I detected Azaan gaze on me. He gestured me that dadi ammi's not coming. "Oh thank God." I left without thinking how bad that'd sound to Azaan. My eyes widened as I waited for him to put his prayer mat in the drawer.

He didn't turn to look at me. He probably didn't hear that. I took a sigh of relief.

Bhabhi had told me that there were possibilities of dadi ammi not coming. She had seen me nervous in the evening as I rewinded the morning peck Azaan gave me, I covered that up by asking about dadi ammi, she cupped my cheeks, gave me confidence and apprised me of dadi ammi's arrival also stating that dadi ammi may not come and we might have to FaceTime her, keeping in view the fact that she lived in another state of the USA with her youngest son.

Dadi ammi had dementia, her health was slowly worsening and she was still under treatment, that prevented her from coming here. I wasn't sure if she what she had was Alzheimer or Amnesia but Azaan told me that she would forget my name again and again and that was normal.

I had prayed for her health to worsen but I never expected my prayers to be answered. Never in my life had they ever been answered. Was it because I prayed salah today?

My friends laughed at something I wasn't paying attention on. "Hey y'all," I grabbed all my friends' attention, "she's not coming."

"But she will come someday, won't she? If she really loves Azaan she'll treat you like one of the servants in the house, for having stolen Azaan from her."

They kept teasing and scaring me. "Yeah right. I'm going to sleep." We bid byes and cut the call.

Azaan sat on his desk and runned his hands through the files. I went to freshen up, came back, turned on the TV and dozed off in a matter of minutes. I heard a really low chuckle, I quickly sat up straight and fixed my dressing gown, my eyes felt heavy.

"Sssh, don't. Go back to sleep." Azaan helped me place down my pillows properly and pulled up the duvet. I closed my eyes again.

I opened my eyes to look at Azaan, who was sitting in front of me looking fixedly at me. "Dadi ammi tum se sab se zyaada muhabbat karti hain?" I asked.

"Hm." He replied shortly.

"Palwasha aur bhai se bhi zyaada?" I asked.

"Haan."

"Woh uss typical saas ki tarhaa yeh toh nahin samjhein gi ke main tummhain unnh se cheen'na chaahti hoon?"

Azaan cackled waking me up completely. I opened my eyes wide and looked up at him. "Sawera innh serials aur movies ki duniya se baahar niklo."

"Azaan, serials mein tragedies unrealistic hoti hain lekin joh coincidences aur stereotypes hote hain woh sache hote hain. Abbhi takk sab ttheek tthaak lag rahe hain iss ka matlab yeh nahin ke tumhaari poori family normal hai. Kisi na kisi pe toh gaye ho ge naa tum?" I bit my lip.

He stared at me in disbelief and laughed, placed a hand over my thigh and leaned down staring at my lips, I sat up holding his arm and kissed him before he could. It was sweet, sweet enough for our first time.

I think I like him, I know he does get upset over minor stuff but I like how that that mood doesn't last long. That's all I want from him and I'm okay with him being a workaholic.

I pulled back and we laughed for a few seconds, then resumed. It felt good. It felt right. I opened my eyes and smiled seeing his eyes closed. We took little breaks and resumed again. He put his hand on my waist, my eyes went round and I realised we were going too far too quick, I stopped all of a sudden and made a bolt for the headrest. "I think I need to sleep."

He turned off the lights and I lay and turned to my side. I bit my nails, looking at the floor, worried. I hope I didn't disappoint him.

I wanted to talk it out, I didn't want him to get upset or stop, I only wanted to take it slow. That's what I wanted to talk about in the morning, now I don't know if he even has time to talk about it.

~~~

These two days passed fast, in no time, it was the night before the Walimah. Dadi ammi was supposed to be coming today; but because she wasn't, we thought of face timing her.

I was the first one to sit in the living room, I waited for the rest of the family as I scrolled down the Instagram of my favourite Instagram model. I hadn't gone shopping after my marriage. I wished having gone once, even if it were without Azaan, but I never got the chance to steal Azaan's credit card. I had my own credit card but using it wasn't fun. This morning, Azaan even transferred some money into my account but that didn't motivate me into shopping. I wanted his debit card. In my opinion, shopping without any limit was much more fun.

Everyone slowly came down and Palwasha turned on her MacBook Pro. Azaan and I sat in the middle of the couch. I felt like that typical bahu in movies and this felt like my munh-dikhai. Even though I hated these words being used for me, I liked how filmy these vibes were.

Palwasha searched for her cousin's contact and clicked on FaceTime.

As the FaceTime connected, I painted a picture of dadi.

I could imagine a Hitler dadi ammi -except that this Hitler is eastern so they wear eastern clothes- running around the house telling everyone what to do and what not to do. Probably walking with a cane and spanking anyone she saw wasting their time instead of working. Perhaps a redhead and really short-tempered, owning dark black big eyes with wrinkles below them.

A bloop resounded in the conversation pit as it connected to another conversation pit in a different state.

I gave an assuring smile looking up at Azaan as he nervously put his hand above mine. Who wouldn't like me?

I was wearing a bright yellow salwar kameez, lightning up even more the already heavily lightened living room. No, not with my clothes, but with my bright smile.

The other side showed a black screen for a while, until I spoke, "Assalmualeikum."

I could hear an old and feeble voice in the background arguing with a deep and manly voice. I frowned as I heard nothing but background noises from the other side. Suddenly, a small kid appeared on the screen, he chirped a hello and waved at me, giggling.

I waved back with a smile, his smile was extremely adorable. Azaan chuckled, "That's Dara, Zarar bhai, my cousin's son."

"Cute." I waited for dadi ammi, a man -I guess Zarar bhai- made her sit on the sofa. "Waleikumassalam." A lady in her late 70s looked at us from the other side. She had completely white hair tied in a high and neat bun. Wrinkles covered her whole light brown face but that didn't keep her from looking like the most beautiful old lady on earth. Her lips still had that pink-ish plump-ishness and her eyes were still bright. Probably a dark shade of blue. The colour looked artificial, as if she had gone through some kind of eye surgery.

"Kaisi hain aap?" I asked. She made a confused face, then looked behind at the man.

Dara showed me his cars and I laughed at them, complimenting every toy. Zarar bhai whisper-talked with dadi ammi in the meanwhile.

"Dadi!" Azaan shouted, shifting towards the edge of the seat, his knees apart and his hands inwards, clasped with each other. Dadi looked at him. "Yeh Sawera hai, meri biwi. Aap ki nayi bahu." He beamed. His eyes held a lot of hope, and a little bit of fear; he was probably afraid that dadi wouldn't remember who he was.

I had never seen fear in his eyes. My smiled slowly faded. It reminded me of the time I saw papa crying. I hated seeing these weak emotions in strong men, it made me feel weaker.

She gave an enthusiastic smile, and cheerfully sat on the edge of her seat, "Main ttheek, tum sunaao Sawera."

Azaan's eyes lit up, probably in relief, probably in happiness.

The conversation went on really well, I don't remember her forgetting anything except for my name. It looked like she was on the first stage of dementia, I wouldn't believe she even had dementia if Azaan wouldn't have told me. She seemed like a perfect old lady, fitting completely in the stereotype.

Zarar bhai's wife and the rest of the family came and sat in as well. I was surprised. Azaan had a nice big family. My grandparents died when I was three and I don't remember hearing anything about any of my cousins.

"Zarar bhai, pehle se kaeen behtar lagg rahi hai abbh innh ki sehat." Azaan said.

"Hey, I also have three trucks." The kid chirped at me. Zarar bhai's wife pulled him up on her lap, he tried to fight her and get down but she didn't let him. The kid was so cute, he didn't even cry at that, he just sat there, his arms crossed, his eyes widened and his lips in a thin line, expressing anger. He looked three or four years old.

"Abbhi toh aur bhi behtar ho jaae gi." I looked at my side as I heard Azaan's brother's voice. He and bhabhi were sitting together, bhai beamed with happiness and bhabhi only blushed looking down. Her face glowed. "Aap par-dadi ban'ne waali hain." Bhai announced.

Oh God, I felt like running upstairs. Ew. I hated that moment, I hated everything at that moment. I wished being able to disappear.

Azaan's head whipped to them, he got up and walked to bhai. "Swear to God."

"I swear." Bhai smiled furiously and got up, Azaan pulled him in a tight hug and everyone congratulated and blessed them with prayers. The room was in a chaos in no time.

All I wished was for the FaceTime to end as soon as possible. I got up, gave a fake smile and congratulated bhabhi. Why does it have to be like this?

Everyone sat back. "Kab pataa chala?" Azaan's father asked.

"Aaj subhah. Hum ne socha raat ka intezaar kar lein." Bhai uttered, taking out two boxes of sweets from a plastic bag. They distributed sweets, I refused to take it and looked at my phone,

I saw that question coming; "Sawera tum kab khushkhabri sunaao gi? Sahar ki tarhaa chaar saal naa lagaana, Azaan ka beta main marne se pehle apni gaud mein utthaana chaahti hoon." Dadi expressed her desire.

I couldn't even excuse myself, I gritted my teeth looking down at my phone.

Azaan glanced at me before returning his gaze onto the screen. "Allah aap ko lambi zindagi de, InshaAllah aap toh apne par-par-pote bhi naa sirf dekhein gi balke gaud mein bhi khilaaein gi."

A knot formed in my stomach. "Stop." I whispered through gritted teeth. His brows knitted as he looked at me.

The rest of the time went by really slow. Many times in between of the talks I felt like disappearing but they kept on talking till midnight. Right as the FaceTime ended, I ran upstairs.

I fanned my cheeks and neck and calmed myself down. I went into the washroom and changed into some orange comfortable silk short and top.

Azaan looked up as I got out of the washroom and quickly put his book on the sidetable. "Sawera, what's wrong?" He walked to me.

"Nothing." I walked to the vanity and took of my makeup.

"Come here." He said patting on his side of the bed. He looked worried, he wanted to solve any problem if there were any but I didn't know how to tell him that everything was problematic in this house.

"I don't want to talk, please." I frustratedly said.

He sighed and looked down. I actually do want to talk, but not at that moment. He was in a good mood. "At least tell me why you weren't happy for bhabhi-"

"-Stop talking about it. Do you like Disney?" I changed the topic. "Have you ever seen a Disney movie? Or watched it with Palwasha?"

"Sawera talk it out. I know you're uncomfortable." He advised.

We stayed in silence for a while. I rubbed the cotton filled with makeup removal liquid in circles all around my skin and followed the rest of my skin care routine while he patiently waited for me to answer his question.

I looked at his reflection staring at me and lowered my gaze, I fiddled with the hem of my top as I slowly pulled myselt together and mumbled; "It's gross."

"What's gross?" He asked.

I tried not to burst out with the bundle of emotions but it felt difficult. "Everything." I wheezed. "I don't want to be here." My wheeze turned into a whisper.

He walked over to me and sat in front of me, on his knees. He removed my soft hands from my top and took them in his hard hands.

"I don't like this place." I sobbed.

His eyebrows snapped together. "Hey... Don't cry. That's okay." He pulled my waist up and sat me on the vanity table while he himself sat on the chair to meet my eye level.

"I thought bhabhi was nice. Everyone that looks nice turns out to be... Uh."

He caressed my hands with his thumbs. "But what did she do?" He asked in a soft voice.

I slowly moved my eyes towards him as a tear left my eyes. "I don't want to be here. Can't we move out? Somewhere? Anywhere?" I asked, even when I knew that he was a family man. I was sure he would deny that.

"Did bhabhi do anything to you?" He asked. I wanted to cry loudly, but I silently sobbed and shook my head. "What's wrong then? Did anyone else say anything that you didn't like?" I nodded. "Who?"

"Dadi ammi." My voice was wobbly.

He thought about it for a while then asked, "What? That she wanted a grandchild from us?" I nodded. He chuckled in relief, "she was just saying that. We don't have to if you don't want to, we have a whole life ahead to plan a-"

"-Never. I don't want kids." I voiced out. "Never ever."

He looked at me for a while, in silence, as if trying to read something. "Okay, we'll talk about this in a few years." He was about to leave my hands when I pulled him down.

"No. I never even wanted to get married, I don't want to be here and I don't want to talk to bhabhi ever again."

"But what did bhabhi do to you?" He asked.

I wiped my tears, got up and turned around to fix my hair. "I don't know." I said, grumpy.

"Sawera," he audibly exhaled, "we're not going to sleep until you tell me what's really wrong."

"Azaan, mujjhe nahin baat karni, bas." I walked to my side of the bed and lay down.

I heard movements behind me and the washroom door closed. I turned my side of the lamp off and closed my eyes.

I do not want to be here. I thought bhabhi was normal, like me. She was the only one I liked in this house, I'm going to run away now.

I sniffed and wiped my tears off. Palwasha is awful, Azaan's parents are awful, bhai and bhabhi are awful and he's awful as well.

So is my father. I know he wanted to get rid of me, but he could have married me in a better house. Or even if he gave me some money and disowned me, then I'd be okay.

I want to go to mama.

I heard the door unlatch and quickly pulled the duvet up. Thank God mama's coming tomorrow, I'm going to run away from my Walimah after meeting her.

The bed dipped on the other side and I felt his shadow on me, "Hey, movie night?" He whispered putting a hand over my shoulder and stroking it.

I got up and nodded, deciding that I'd have a good time at least once before I run away. He wasn't as boring as I thought he was. He turned the TV on while I snuggled in the duvet.

He put on some Hollywood movie and I looked at him, "Are you for real? Ew. Let me choose the movie." I played Teefa in Trouble and crawled back in his arms.

"Aren't these actors Pakistani?" He asked right after seeing Maya Ali.

"It's a Pakistani movie Azaan, shut up and enjoy it."

Halfway through the movie I dozzed off. That didn't keep me from hearing his chuckles once in a while.

"Mmph," I hit my head lightly on his jawline to make him shut up and slept as the laughing sound stopped.

~~~

I opened my eyes and tried to turn around to look at the time when I realised how awkward of a position I was lying in. One of my legs was above Azaan's waist while the other one was below the askew duvet. I was using more than half of the bed, lying diagonally. One of Azaan's hands was stuck below my night wear's shoulder-straps and the duvet was between his legs and my arms. What the heck did we do in our sleep to create this mess?

Did he drug me or something? I don't remember doing anything weird.

I moved my leg to myself and sustained above my elbow as I tried to remove Azaan's hand. How did this get tangled here? He stiffened his hand in his sleep. Bro, what even? I tried to roll his hand out once more and he opened his eyes. I gasped and plunged down on the bed, pretending to be asleep.

He pulled his hand to sit up and almost tore my night wear. I opened an eye slightly to see what he was doing and was relieved to see him more confused than me, what on earth did we do in our sleep? I closed my eyes and he pulled his hand out. I turned to the other side and pulled up my duvet still acting asleep.

He sat in silence for a long while.

"Wake up Sawera," He called me and I groaned in a low voice. "it's Fajr time." Ugh, I swear he's got to be the most unromantic guy on earth, I really gave him a chance to wake me up as romantically and creatively as he could and he woke me up like this. Really Azaan?

"Ugh. My eyes don't want to open Azaan."

He combed my hair with his fingers, "You can go to sleep after praying." he got up and told me to get up. I swear this guy is hopeless.

He went to the washroom after I sat down on the bed, he came back and I went in to do the ablution and change into a more modest clothing. He prayed two steps ahead of me in his perfect Arabic accent and deep voice while I prayed behind him.

It was easier to pray this way.

I finished making duaa. "Hey, your voice is really nice."

"Thank you, do you want to go have breakfast downstairs before going back to sleep?"

I shook my head and folded the prayer mat.

"The movie last night was nice. I thought you'd play some Bollywood crap." He walked to his desk.

I walked to my vanity. "I'm not into it anymore." He turned around to look at me, he looked away unconvinced. "What? I'm really not into it anymore." I took off my hijab's pins.

"When was the last time you watched DDLG?"

"DDLJ! Azaan!" I laughed. "Do you even know what DDLG means?"

He kept on working and I realised I was talking and laughing alone. As always. He hates me, bhabhi hates me, Palwasha hates me, his parents hate me, his dadi ammi hates me, my father hates me. I love myself.

"The last time I watched DDLJ was two weeks ago."

"And why is that?"

"I'm tired of these India and Pakistan 'fights' so I gave up on their stuff after they banned our artists. SRK's Bard of Blood made me lose interest in him." I combed my hair.

"Cool." Cool what bro? You weren't even listening to me.

I went to change into those same orange night shorts and top, he glanced at me before putting down his files and walking to the washroom.

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