Zoya adjusted her pearly, silk scarf that was elegantly styled to frame her face. Viewing herself in the mirror, she surveyed herself in the marvellously embroidered lilac maxi she was dressed in for their Walima, her engagement ring on her finger and a pearl pendant on her neck. She graced a peachy nude lipstick along with some darker eye make-up that enhanced her azure eyes.

"Zoya, are you ready?" She heard Zaib's soft knock on the door and hastily slipped her feet into her dainty silver heels. "Yes."

Zaib swayed the door open and stepped in, his eyes immediately finding Zoya who stood there looking down shyly. Even though they were married now, this was the first time that she was dressing up for him and he would see her. For a moment she didn't hear any response from Zaib and looked up curiously.

He stood there, sporting a white button-down shirt underneath a black blazer and pants with a matching lilac tie, motionless in his place, mouth ajar as he surveyed her. "Zaib?" Her gentle voice alerted him out of his daze. "You look breathtaking." He strode over to her, gazing at her stunning features.

Zoya felt her cheeks streak with warmth feeling thankful that her makeup concealed her natural blush. "You look pretty good yourself," she returned his compliment with a small smile. Seeing her husband groomed for her made her stomach ache with butterflies.

Slowly he leant in, planting a warm kiss on her forehead. "Can we just cancel and stay here all night because you look too gorgeous and others don't deserve to witness such beauty," he suggested. He didn't feel like socialising with other people, he wanted Zoya all to himself.

Zoya almost choked eyeing his evil smile. "Zaib," she responded with a dreading glare. "Yeah yeah, it's our Walima we have to be there." Zaib gave in and grabbed her warm hand within his.

"But after we're done with this, it'll just be me and you." His earnest look made her heartbeat escalate. She gave him a light punch on his arm, flustered at his words. "The guests are waiting."

Zaib playfully rolled his eyes and tugged her along with him and they exited the room. Along the staircase, fairy lights shone on them as they descended. Once they were down, Zaib's parents led them to the garden where their guests awaited them.

It had been two days since their Nikkah and they were now having their Walima in Zaib's spacious garden. They wanted a simple Walima like the Nikkah and had only invited a few of Zaib and Zoya's relatives and their best friends. Unfortunately, Zoya's cousin, Amira's family had to return to their home city after the Nikkah due to her father's work. At least, Naimat would be there.

It was to be a modest dinner with around ten wide tables set up in his garden. Since Zaib's side was arranging the dinner, they had called in the best caterers and decoration agency.

As they stepped foot outside, they were immediately swarmed with their guests. First, Zaib's relatives rushed to greet Zoya and question her about how well she was adjusting along with a flurry of compliments. Zaib chuckled at how taken aback she seemed but it wasn't long before he was pulled away to Zoya's relatives too, causing Zoya to throw a laugh.

Among the chaos, Zoya met eyes with Zain and she felt her heart drop. Ever since that uneasy encounter with Zain in the kitchen, she felt unnerved around him. His cruel words remained in her memory and replayed through her head from time to time.

Why was he so hateful towards her?

Later that day when she had dinner with Zaib's family, she felt a lot of sarcasm coming from Zain's side whenever he talked. It seemed like she was the only one who felt that tension as Zaib and his parents didn't notice it. That incident had bothered Zoya but she didn't want to start any drama on her first day in Zaib's house so she had kept silent about it.

The discomfort that she felt upon seeing Zain at their Walima quickly washed away once she was approached by her own family. She was instantly pulled into a hug by her mother, who held her tightly, trying not to get emotional. She was then embraced by her father, and now both of them tried to hold back tears. It had merely been two days but she missed her family immensely.

Bilal gave her a bear hug. He had felt the house to be very empty without her. They had no other siblings but each other so they had always stuck together like glue and now that Zoya was married, Bilal felt lonely. He missed their senseless bickering and teasing.

"How's everything? Is Zaib's family good to you?" Her father inquired under his breath, glancing around to make sure his family members weren't too close. "Yes, baba everything is going well Alhamdulillah," Zoya comforted.

Bilal nudged her, "Have you burnt down the kitchen yet?" he sniggered teasingly. Zoya gave him a piercing glare, "Of course not." Bilal raised his eyebrows, "Well it'll happen sooner or later." He declared, earning an eye roll from her side.

She turned to see Zaib approaching her. "As salamu alaykum," he cheerfully greeted his in-laws, shaking her father's hand and giving Bilal a brotherly hug. He turned to Zoya, "it's time for dinner Zoya."

There had been a large table set especially for Zaib and Zoya's close family with places for Ehsan and Naimat too. The couple of the night would sit at the head of the table, under the sight of all the guests. Zoya nodded and Zaib held her hand, leading her to the table. Just as Zoya neared the table, she was enveloped into another tight hug, this time it was Naimat.

The guests seated around them.

"You're glowing Zoe, I'm so so so happy for you." Naimat gushed holding her best friend by the arms with abundant warmth in her gaze. Zoya beamed, "Thank you. You look gorgeous Naim. Ehsan is going to be speechless when he sees you." Naimat's eyes zeroed and both the girls' looked at Ehsan who was chuckling over something Zaib said at the table.

"Shh, don't say it like that!" Naimat attempted to cover her red face.

"Anyways, this is about you and Zaib. How is it marrying the love of your life?" She teased. It was Zoya's turn to become embarrassed. "It's honestly unreal Naim. I couldn't be happier." Naimat squealed, throwing a wink at her. "You guys are the cutest together."

Zoya smiled and noticed Naimat's family standing a few feet away. She went to greet them as well and Naimat's mother welcomed her lovingly. She had been like a second mother to her almost, every time Zoya met her, she was treated like a part of Naimat's family.

Eventually, Zoya and Naimat settled back to where everyone sat. Many conversations were being made along the table. On either side of Zoya and Zaib, sat Naimat and Ehsan with Bilal being next to Ehsan. The group got along really well but it was mainly the ladies talking to each other and the men with each other.

"Zaib I'm telling you, be careful of her when she's sleeping. I once woke her up and she smacked me so hard I lost my hearing for a few moments." Her brother went on to spill another horrific memory which only made Zaib throw his head back as he laughed hard.

"Can you stop embarrassing me!" She grumbled as she chewed onto the juicy piece of chicken. Zaib edged forward, grabbing her hand within his as he spared a contagious smile, immediately comforting her without having to say a word.

"Which reminds me, Bilal, what bet were you talking about?" Zoya was reminded back to the time when she talked to her brother on the phone and he asked for her to relay the message to Zaib, saying he'd lost a bet.

Bilal smirked. "Zaib, why don't you enlighten her? Remember that bet we made back in university?" She eyed Zaib who reddened. Seeing him blush only made her more interested.

"It's nothing."

"Zaib, what bet?" He glanced back at her and seeing her orbs as wide as an almond, he couldn't help but give in to her curiosity.

"Back in uni, Bilal always told me I'd be the first one to get married from the group and we made a bet. I said there was no way. At the time, Bilal loved anime so much so I bet with him if it did happen then I'd watch a whole season of Dragon Ball Z."

The group burst into chortles. Zoya held her stomach as she laughed her heart out and Zaib only stared at her, breaking into an embarrassed smile himself. "So when are you getting started with it," she teased and he gripped her hand tighter, signalling for her to stop.

"Isn't it sad though? You're the only single one left." Zaib called Bilal out and Zoya tried to suppress her laughter at the thought of Bilal third-wheeling with his two friends now. "I'm just waiting for the right one guys," Bilal replied in irritation.

Soon it was time to eat. There was a buffet for the rest of the guests but the couple and their families had food already plated out for them. They all ate and exchanged conversations merrily, the atmosphere was very warm. For the first time in a long time, Zoya felt complete.

-:-

After the tiresome yet joyful ceremony, Zoya was inside her room, after changing into some comfortable PJs and untangling her hair from the tight grip of the hair tie. She massaged her fingers on her scalp, sighing in relief. The hijab did have its sheer amount of disadvantages. For example, her hair was always tightly packed, which gave her headaches and sweating within her hair was a given.

So why do you wear hijab? Her friends asked her one day.

It was simple. Some wore it for protection, others wore it as a custom piece, passed down by their ancestors and some wore it due to the pressures of their strictly Islamic families. Zoya covered because it simply made her feel connected to God every moment of the day. Since Allah had prescribed for the women to cover their beauty, if she was following such a simple commandment, she was constantly worshipping Allah for every second of the day.

The door creaked open and Zaib walked in. He paused against the door as he looked towards her, adorably huddled in a corner of the bed, her eyes shut as she ruffled her brown hair which reached her navel. It was still unbelievable to him that he could see all her beauty. He shut the door and approached her, seating himself next to her on the bed.

"Zoya, I got you something," he pulled out a red box. He untied it and pulled something shimmery out.

Zoya's eyes glimmered as she traced the stunningly thin bracelet, a little heart-shaped figure in the middle, made of gold lining. Zoya stared awestruck, her eyes widening. It seemed even more expensive than her precious engagement ring.

"I didn't know what you'd like but Zayna loved this a lot," he muttered and held it up for her to inspect. Zoya shifted closer and brought her hand forward, motioning for him to put it on her. He restrained a smile and hooked the bracelet on her delicate wrist, and then gently rubbed his fingers on her skin.

"It's so beautiful," she breathed and it was like all her heart was now in her eyes. "Thank you so much. I love it," she expressed before smiling wide. He mirrored her smile and kissed her wrist letting her giggle out of love for him.

Her other hand was still busy, the fingers still deeply entangled within her hair and he stared at her curiously.

"What're you doing?" He asked, causing her to stop midway as she gave an exasperated smile. "My scalp hurts because of the tight hair-bun," she sulked and he chuckled. He suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, letting her head rest on his lap and then he worked his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp and also playing with strands of softness.

Her initial reaction was a shock but she soon nuzzled into the sweet warmth of his body. As he soothed his fingers within her hair, the ache disappeared and her mind cleared letting her feel a euphoric level of peace.

Her heartbeat didn't escalate like it usually would because she felt at peace, at home. It was funny how the only family she'd ever known seemed foreign today but Zaib who had merely spent a few days meant home. Was this the taste of completing half of your religion?

"Zoya, what's your favourite colour?"

The randomness of the question made her look up at him and giggle.

"Stop laughing! I want to know more about you. For instance, I do know that you're gorgeous with or without hijab, you suck at baking and ludo, you're fierce when you're angry and you have the prettiest smile on this planet," he rambled and Zoya gasped at his words.

"I do not suck at ludo!" She shrilled. Zaib stared down at her with a toothy smile and shook his head at her in disbelief.

"That's all you got out of that? I also called you beautiful, pretty—"

"Okay, thanks but I do not suck at ludo! That game is just a game of chance and you can never be sure about anything. The dice can flip the entire game upside down in a mere second. If you want, we can play any other game with only the factor of skill and I'll prove to you how smart I am," she concluded, staring at him challengingly.

He mirrored her narrowed eyes. "No thanks. You'll again find some other way to prove I cheated and then sulk and be annoyed about it. I'll pass," he claimed, reminding her of her previous loss.

She stared at him annoyed, pushing herself off his lap. "I won't do that if you play fair Mr overconfident," she muttered, rolling her eyes. He groaned at the sudden loss of her warmth and quickly reached out to pull her back. He locked his arms around her waist and laid on the bed, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Let me go!" She giggled and then soon broke into a fit of laughter. "Your breath-is-tickling-me!" She squealed which only made him intentionally exhale harder than normal and she collapsed against him, crying out for mercy. He pulled back with a smirk.

"I'll stop it if you stay next to me," he bargained and she gave in without a moment's hustle.

"You're so annoying!" She muttered as she wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest. She didn't mean it though because God, she loved having him close to her. He smelled sweet, a refreshing scent of soap mixed with men's cologne.

"Zaib, my favourite colour is Burgundy. What about yours?" she remarked, answering the question which started the entire ordeal in the first place.

Zaib hummed in response. "I don't have a favourite colour." She stared up at him.

"What kind of a person doesn't have a favourite colour?" She accused, eyeing him narrowly.

He edged closer, pecking her forehead. "Me. I don't have a favourite colour." Even though her heart pooled, she maintained a straight face. "Why?" She genuinely felt curious.

"Just because— I don't know. I feel like every colour has its unique beauty." His response surprised her. That was true though. Every colour felt like a splutter of unidentifiable emotions. Every one of us tended to associate different colours with different emotions and none of them were the same.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he muttered and then pushed a little up, grabbing his phone from the side table. He laid back down and turned the screen on. Zoya noticed the lock screen was just a typically random picture saved in the phones from the beginning and she reminded herself to change it later on.

She curiously inspected the screen.

He went straight towards his emails and clicked on the most recent one. It just had a document attached.

"Here you go," he passed her the phone.

She swiped it open and a copy of a ticket popped up. She read the information, clueless of his intentions. It was a ticket to Zurich in Switzerland. She looked back at him, questioning with an arched eyebrow.

"Our honeymoon, we leave by tomorrow midnight."

💜