HER POV

I blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions that came from the kiss. His words, his touch, they had all been too much, and I could still feel the heat of his breath on my lips.

"Ab happy?" he asked, his voice teasing, but there was something else in his eyes something deeper. It made my heart race, but before I could even form a response, the sound of a knock at the door pulled me back into reality.

The makeup artist entered, and I quickly turned away, hoping they hadn't noticed how flushed my face was. I could still feel the warmth spreading through me, but I tried to calm myself, mentally reminding myself that I had to focus now.

I glanced at Irfaz from the corner of my eye as he straightened up, wiping away any trace of the moment we'd just shared. My mind was still spinning with everything that had just happened, but I couldn't let it show. I had to maintain my composure, especially with all the people around.

I felt his gaze on me, and I couldn't help but glance up. His eyes were still filled with that unspoken intensity, but I quickly averted my gaze before he caught me staring.

He's going to be the death of me, I thought, as I slowly made my way to the stylist. But deep down, I couldn't help but smile, despite the overwhelming mix of emotions I was feeling.

I sat on my dressing chair as the stylist began ironing my hijab, carefully smoothing out every crease. The makeup artist stood beside me, waiting for my instructions.

"Make the look subtle," I murmured, my voice softer than usual. "Arabic eyes with nude lipstick."

She nodded and got to work, her hands moving skillfully across my face. As she blended the eyeshadow, shaping my eyes into an alluring kohl-rimmed depth, I focused on the steady rhythm of her brush strokes. Anything to keep my mind from wandering back to Irfaz and his words.

The warmth of the ironed hijab settled against my skin as they carefully placed it over my head, wrapping it in perfect folds. My heart slowed a little, finding comfort in the familiar embrace of the fabric. Finally, they secured my niqab, draping it elegantly over the lower half of my face.

I glanced at my reflection. The deep, mysterious eyes staring back at me belonged to someone composed, someone untouchable. But beneath the layers of fabric and carefully applied makeup, my heart was still unsteady.

I was lost in my reflection, my mind swirling with thoughts, when I heard the soft click of the door opening. I turned just as Irfaz stepped inside, looking every bit the epitome of elegance in a black sherwani with intricate silver embroidery, the mint green shawl draped over his shoulder adding a touch of regal charm to his presence.

His eyes locked with mine the moment he entered, and I couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered, a silent intensity between us that made the room feel smaller.

"Ready, jaan?" His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was something about the way he said it something deeper, an edge that made my heart skip.

For a moment, I couldn't find my voice. The air felt thick, charged with the energy we were both trying to ignore. I forced myself to look away, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Just... give me a second," I managed, my tone more composed than I felt.

I stood from my seat, smoothing out my dress and adjusting my niqab as I prepared myself for whatever this evening would bring. But no matter how hard I tried, the pull of his presence was undeniable.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving me. 

"You look beautiful," he murmured, the words soft, yet weighted with something I couldn't place.

I swallowed, heart pounding as I forced a smile. 

"Thanks," I said, barely above a whisper.

Then, before I could move away, his hand reached up, gently cupping my cheek, pulling me closer. The world around us seemed to blur as his lips captured mine in a kiss that was tender at first, hesitant, as if he was testing my boundaries.

For a split second, I could hardly breathe. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver through me, and I found myself responding, my hands moving to his chest.

But as quickly as the kiss had begun, I pulled back, gasping for air.

"Let go of me! You ruined my lipstick!" I complained, gently pushing him away.

He smirked, his gaze never leaving mine. "Then let me kiss your vertical lips, no lipstick to smudge there... unless you..."

Before he could finish, I quickly covered his mouth with my hands, silencing him, my heart racing from the mix of emotions swirling inside me.

He chuckled against my hand, the warmth of his breath making me shiver even more. I could feel the tension between us, thick and palpable. His gaze softened, a quiet amusement in his eyes as he pulled away just enough to look at me, his lips curling into a teasing grin.

"Don't be shy now," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

I removed my hand from his mouth, glaring at him. "You don't know when to stop, do you?"

He leaned in again, closer this time, his forehead resting against mine. "Maybe I just like seeing you flustered."

My breath hitched, and I tried to gather my composure, my pulse racing. I could feel his proximity in every nerve, and the pull of his presence was stronger than ever.

Before I could respond, I stepped back, my heart still hammering. "I should go," I muttered, turning to leave, but his hand shot out, gripping my wrist with gentle force.

"You don't have to go," he said softly, his thumb brushing across my skin.

I turned back to face him, my eyes locked with his. There was something in his gaze now—something deeper, something that made my heart twist in ways I couldn't understand. "I do," I whispered.

"Let's go together," he said, his voice steady yet laced with something that made my heart flutter.

As we walked toward the door for our walima, the weight of his presence beside me was almost unbearable. Each step felt like an eternity, as if time itself was stretching just for us. I couldn't help but wonder if he could sense the turmoil inside me the storm he had stirred with just a few simple words, a touch, a glance.

I stole a glance at him, only to find him watching me with a quiet intensity, his gaze soft yet knowing. My stomach churned, a mixture of unease and something much deeper, something I wasn't ready to name.

Was he feeling it too? Or was it just me lost in the heat of the moment, drowning in a connection I couldn't explain?

The thought made my pulse race, but I forced myself to look away, focusing on the path ahead. No matter how much I tried to fight it, the pull between us felt impossible to ignore.

-----

I placed my hand lightly on the railing as Irfaz helped me carefully navigate the stairs, his hand steady at my back. His other hand gently lifted the fabric of my gown, ensuring it didn't catch or drag on the stairs. I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he moved, his calm presence grounding me despite the storm of emotions I was still trying to process.

When we reached the bottom, I looked around, expecting to see the house filled with guests, but the grand hall was empty. Everyone had already left, and the silence that lingered felt almost suffocating. It was just the two of us now.

I glanced at Irfaz, who was already walking toward the door, his expression unreadable. He had already brought the car around, a sleek Mercedes-AMG GT parked right in front, the engine humming softly as if waiting for us.

"Wait a minute," he said, turning to face me. There was a hint of concern in his eyes, but it didn't quite mask the teasing tone in his voice. "Let me bring the SUV. Your dress won't fit in the Mercedes."

I looked down at my gown, a little surprised by the practicality of his words. 

"Isn't this a bit... dramatic?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

But Irfaz only smirked, the corner of his lips lifting in that way that made my heart race. 

"You're wearing the dress, not me. I'd rather not have it ruined, especially after how perfect you look tonight."

A mix of warmth and unease swirled inside me at his words. I tried to mask it with a quick nod, though inside, I couldn't ignore the way he made me feel like I was more than just his wife, more than just a part of some arrangement.

True to his word, Irfaz returned moments later, driving the large black SUV up to the entrance with ease. He parked it smoothly and got out, walking around to my side before I could even think to move.

Without a word, he opened the door and gently helped me inside, his hand grazing mine as he ensured I was settled comfortably. His touch lingered, a subtle warmth that made the air between us feel even heavier.

Once I was in, he closed the door softly and walked around to the driver's seat, sliding in with an effortless grace. The engine roared to life as he pulled out of the driveway, the world outside blurring into streaks of light.

I turned to look at him, but he was already glancing at me, his eyes briefly catching mine before he returned his focus to the road.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice low and calm, though I could sense the curiosity beneath it.

I shook my head quickly, offering him a small smile. "No, nothing's wrong." But even I could hear the hesitation in my own voice.

He nodded, but his gaze lingered a moment longer than usual. 

"Good," he said quietly. "I just don't want you to feel... uncomfortable."

There was something about the way he said it, something that felt almost protective, and for a moment, I couldn't quite decipher if it was the truth or just another layer to his mysterious charm.

-----

The SUV slowed as we neared our destination the grand hall where the Walima was being held. The building loomed ahead, beautifully lit, the lights reflecting off the marble floors of the entrance. My heart fluttered, a mix of nerves and uncertainty tightening in my chest.

As I stepped down, I felt Kinza's hand move toward the hem of my gown, and with a soft, almost too eager smile, she said, 

"Your veil, let me pull it first."

Before I could even react, she had pulled it slightly, adjusting it with too much care, as if inspecting every inch of my outfit. It was a strange gesture, one that felt a little too possessive.

But before I could dwell on it, I heard Irfaz's voice calling my name. He appeared just in time, helping me gently onto the floor.

As soon as my foot touched the ground, I felt a sharp sting shoot through my foot, causing me to gasp.

Something... mujhe chub rahi hai...

"Ahhhh! Irfaz!" I cried out, clutching at my foot.

Irfaz's expression shifted to one of pure panic as he rushed to my side. 

"What happened? Are you okay?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes frantically scanning me for any sign of injury.

I winced, trying to focus through the pain. 

"Meri pair pe kch hai," I managed to say, before quickly sitting back down on the seat in the car, my foot throbbing.

Irfaz knelt beside me, his hands moving gently over my foot. His touch was soft, careful, but there was a sense of urgency in his movements.

As he inspected my foot, his eyes narrowed in concentration. 

"Hold on," he muttered, and I saw him carefully pull out a rusted safety pin from my skin.

My breath caught in my throat at the sharpness of the moment. He pulled it free, his movements swift yet tender, his fingers brushing my foot in a way that felt oddly intimate.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, his voice softer now, the panic slowly subsiding as he ensured I was safe.

I winced, the sharp pain still radiating through my foot as I looked at Irfaz, my eyes filled with discomfort.

"Dard ho rahi hai mujhe, Irfaz," I said softly, my voice shaky as I tried to hold back the tears that threatened to form.

His eyes softened immediately at the sound of my words. He looked at me with a mixture of concern and frustration, as though he was angry with himself for not noticing sooner.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice gentle as he carefully supported my foot, lifting it slightly to get a better look. "I should've checked before."

I shook my head, trying to keep calm. 

"It's not your fault," I reassured him, though the pain was still sharp. "It's just... unexpected."

He looked up at me, his gaze locking with mine. "Let me make it better. We'll get you checked, okay?"

Despite the sting in my foot, I tried to steady myself, looking up at Irfaz as I spoke. 

"Wallima hai apni aaj, Irfaz," I said, my voice soft but firm. "We can't delay it."

He gave me a look, a mix of frustration and concern, but he didn't argue. 

"Woh gharwale sambhalenge," he replied, "Let me get you to a doctor first. Infection na ho jaye kahin." His words were laced with genuine worry.

I shook my head, trying to put on a brave front. 

"I'm okay. Wallima jaldi end karke jate hain hum log," I insisted, the words leaving my mouth even though the pain still made it difficult to think clearly.

I could see the hesitation in his eyes, but after a long pause, he nodded. "Alright, but I'm staying by your side the entire time."

With that, he gently helped me again, making sure I was steady before guiding me to step down. I shifted my weight onto my toes, trying to avoid putting pressure on my injured foot. Every step felt like a challenge, but I didn't want to show weakness not tonight, not during our Walima.

As we entered the hall, the darkness enveloped us. For a moment, it felt like stepping into another world quiet, still, almost ethereal. 

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