Yesterday night was the warmest night of Zaib's life. After gazing at the stars, the newlywed couple scurried to their rooms and talked for hours until Zoya's eyes fell heavy. Zaib surveyed her as she struggled between keeping up with the conversation amidst a chain of yawns. He chuckled as she finally gave in and her eyes screwed shut. He covered her with the duvet and dimmed the lights before laying beside her and hugging her to himself, falling into the whirlwind of dreams.

He woke up to the scent of her and his eyes flew open. There she was, her head resting on his chest, her light breathing making her body heave against his. His gaze flooded with warmth as he ran his fingers through the umber strands of her hair, admiring the softness of it. She was so soft and squishy, almost like a down pillow.

"Alhamdulillah," he whispered to himself. God, was he thankful for having her. He was so gracious and happy, he could pray hundreds of voluntary prayers to thank Allah.

Out of love, he nudged forward and kissed her forehead which caused her to stir. Then suddenly she halted and looked up. Eyes wide in horror, she gasped and screeched, jolting away to the other side of the bed, panting as if she had run a marathon.

"Zoya?" He stared flabbergasted at her sudden outburst. Was something wrong?

"Wait-I- you're here?" She gaped at him as if he were a Tyrannosaurus, back from extinction. She stared blankly and then rubbed the back of her head, her face masking confusion.

"It wasn't a dream?" She naively questioned.

Zaib put two and two together and realized what was happening. He broke into fits of laughter while her cheeks began to fire up with embarrassment. "Stop mocking me! I really thought yesterday was a dream," she murmured due to which he laughed harder.

He pushed himself off the bed and approached her before grabbing a pinch of her plump cheek and pulling softly. "Does this feel like a dream Zoya?" He rasped, his morning voice causing Zoya to grow even more flustered than she already was.

"Sorry, I tend to have vivid dreams and most of the times, I can't differentiate between real life and my imagination," she explained, hoping the situation would become interesting rather than embarrassing. Zaib's eyes were full of spark and playfulness as a smirk uplifted his mouth.

"You dream of me, huh?" His whisper made her abdomen clench.

"Yes—no? I mean, I don't know?" She groaned, unable to handle this sudden outburst fresh in the morning. "Can we stop playing embarrass Zoya challenge and get ready? We need to head downstairs," she announced and pulled away quickly.

She paused, reading on her phone that it was ten in the morning. "Zaib, by what time does everyone wake up?" She questioned, worried she might've overslept.

"By now, everyone's probably awake except for Zain: he likes to sleep in when he doesn't have any lecture to attend and Zay has school," Zaib notified, smiling at her scrunched up face.

"Are we late?" She worriedly nibbled on her lower lip.

"We're not—" he halted mid-sentence and pulled her close, tightening his hold on her waist. "But we might be if you keep doing that." Zoya stopped immediately and giggled, pulling away to run to the bathroom.

He was faster, pouncing onto her from behind and grabbing her waist causing her to squeal aloud, struggling to leave his embrace. "Zaib!" She helplessly shrieked and then giggled as he tickled her sides.

"No! Stop tickling!" She yelled between her painful laughter. He stopped his antics and breathed her in before smiling cheekily.

"Give me my morning kiss and you'll be free to go," he stated, his eyes gleaming as he brought his cheek forward for her. She couldn't help but break into a grin as she gulped down the nervousness and edged forward, balancing on the tip of her toes. She laid a soft kiss against his cheek which made his smile grow wider and she dashed away into the bathroom.

Ah, what a lovely morning.

:—

"As salamu alaykum," Zaib chimed and Zoya followed as the two walked downstairs hand in hand. Zaib's father sat on the sofa, slipping on his shoes. Zoya looked around confusedly, searching for Zaib's mother, who was nowhere to be found. Zaib noticed her confusion and whispered to her, "Mama leaves early to attend madrassa."

Zaib's father stood up and hugged his daughter-in-law, welcoming her downstairs. "How are you doing Zoya?" He politely asked and Zoya reciprocated his huge smile.

"Alhamdulillah uncle," she greeted him.

"Call me dad Zoya, you're just as dear to me as my Zayna now," his warm-hearted smile lifted almost all of the troubles from her heart as she found his gaze very similar to her father's warm and gentle.

"Alright, I'm leaving for a meeting with an old friend. Zoya, I'm sorry everyone's not here to accompany you on your first day but I promise later we'll spend a great time together as a family," he sympathetically explained while he grabbed his phone.

"It's alright dad, don't you want breakfast? I'll make it quick," Zoya requested. She wanted to express her love and gratitude to Zaib's family for being patient with her. She did wish everyone was present but it couldn't be helped since everyone had prior engagements.

"No dear, I'll have breakfast with my friend." And he walked away and exited the house.

Zaib sensed her disappointment and turned her to face him. "They'll be here in the afternoon. Don't worry Zoya," he declared and pulled back only after she gave him an assuring smile.

"Alright, dear husband, what do you want for breakfast?" She chirped, walking away towards the open kitchen. Zaib's cousin sisters had already given her a short tour of the house and she was aware of how gloriously the house was designed. She had mostly seen such modernized kitchens in movies but never in real life.

"Zoya, don't you dare step into the kitchen!" His voice called out and she halted, perplexed at his sudden outburst.

She heard his heavy footsteps from behind and she turned to face him. "Why?" She pouted. He quickly responded in a distinct tone. "I'm making breakfast," he declared as if it were a vow written on the tomb.

She stared blankly at him for a second and then carried on looking for the frying pan. She had merely moved a muscle before Zaib tossed her over his shoulder earning a dramatic squeal from her as he marched to the kitchen island and lowered her onto the tall wooden chair.

"Zaib!" She shrieked and he rolled his eyes. "I'm making my wife breakfast and there's nothing you can do about it," he concluded before leaving towards the other part of the kitchen.

She sighed at his stubbornness. Zaib was unstoppable. She wanted to prove to him she could be a really productive wife: she wanted to serve him, make him breakfast and wake up early; however, she had failed on almost all of those objectives and it was only the first day. He was the one putting in the most effort.

Her tense nerves eased up as she stared at him, breaking the eggs. He was so engrossed in making her breakfast, he didn't notice her smiling, overwhelming with affection for her hardworking husband. He seemed to have trouble flipping the omelette over, causing it to scatter into bits on the pan. He groaned and finally outed the dish onto the plate.

"Zoya, you like your bread toasted?" He questioned. "No!" She replied back.

Zaib nodded and brought the plates over. He seated himself on the chair beside her and served the massacred egg with an adorable little pout. "The reason why it looks like that is because, well, it's unique." Zoya burst into a giggle upon his innocent justification.

She cut out a piece and munched onto it. "What'd you think?" He asked with a glimmer of hope. "Hm, well, it's edible."

Zaib's smile dropped. "That bad?" Zoya wanted to punch herself seeing the disappearance of his playfulness. She edged closer to him and stared into the depth of his green eyes, upon closer look they were forest green, lively and bedazzling.

She pecked his cheek. What had she done to get Zaib? "It's delicious."

The sparkle in his eyes returned and a glorious smile uplifted his spirits. "Can I get my reward again," he muttered and she giggled. At one time, he was a playful smug and the other, he was requesting for rewards and flashing an innocent smile. It was day one of their relationship and he was already a surprise.

Zoya grabbed the fork and held some up for Zaib and he happily gulped it down.

"See Zoya, your husband's got a hidden talent," he gloated as he finished up his bite. Zoya playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Well, Mr overconfident, I will make you breakfast tomorrow and you'll realize what you call a hidden talent." She challenged him causing his eyes to fly open.

He smirked. "If they taste anything like those cupcakes you made me, I've got bad news." Zoya stared blankly, unable to comprehend what he was implying to.

The flashback replayed in her head. The day when she, Zaib, Ehsan and Naimat played ludo and Zoya lost a challenge for which she had to compensate by making Zaib some cupcakes. Those cupcakes... she remembered asking him how they were and he had given her a vague answer.

"Just like how I imagined."

"You never told me!" She gasped at the memory. "Were they that bad?" She asked with a subtle pout. She had really worked so hard that day because she unintentionally wanted to impress Zaib but sadly her efforts had gone in vain.

"Zoya, they tasted like the best cupcakes I'd ever had." She looked up, surprised.

"I'm never good at baking so you're lying," she snorted, her heart twitched at the thought of him lying to make her feel better.

"Well, to be fair, they did have lots and lots of baking soda but they were still the best cupcakes I'd ever had. Better than aunt Afeesa's and that's a statement." Confusion threw her over the edge as she tried to decipher what he meant.

Clearly, if the cupcakes had excessive baking soda, they tasted extremely salty, so they couldn't have been the best cupcakes.

"Zoya, you silly goose," his face was suddenly closer than before. He softly rubbed his nose against hers, creating an electric spark between the two, causing goosebumps to rise on her body.

"They tasted the best because, you, made them for me and if there wasn't enough sweetness in the cupcakes, then it was already counterbalanced because you made them."

She melted.

;—

After breakfast, Zaib washed the dishes, despite Zoya persisting for a whole hour but to no avail. He simply carried her away and seated her on the couch with the television screen on. Later, in the afternoon, Zoya and Zaib sat outside in the balcony, sipping some coffee when Zayna and Zaib's mother arrived home with a few groceries.

"As salamu alaykum," Zoya chimed as she hurried in the living room to welcome her. Zaib's mother smiled and nodded at her. Since yesterday, Zoya felt a little tension from her side since she wasn't as welcoming as Zaib's father but Zoya didn't plan on widening the distance. She wanted to prove that she was worth it.

"Zoya, how's your day been?" She asked passively, placing her handbag on the table while little Zayna hurried from the door in to hug Zoya. Zoya giggled at her excitement and answered.

"Alhamdulillah, the best."

"Zoya! I can't believe you're actually going to stay with us! I've always wanted a sister," she cheered. "Zay, where's your manners! Don't call her by her name," her mother yelled causing Zayna to retreat quickly with a frown.

Zoya immediately shook her head. "Zayna, how about you call me Zoe and I'll call you Zay," she negotiated. Zayna broke into a smile and nodded eagerly. Zaib's mother then left to keep the groceries within the kitchen.

"Alright now that that's established, I need to go for prayer," she heard her husband call out from behind and Zoya nodded with a smile. He edged closer to Zoya and hugged her lightly before kissing Zayna on the forehead.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered to his wife.

Zoya stared with the goofiest smile as he disappeared out the door. God, was she lucky.

"Auntie, do you need any help with the groceries?" Zoya called out realising she was the one who had to help around Zaib's house now. She walked into the kitchen to see his mother unpacking the groceries and setting them in their designated places.

Zaib's mother looked up from the bag she was opening, "You don't need to do much just put the fruits in their place in the fridge." Zoya nodded and approached the bag filled with fruits, silently they both put away the groceries. There was some awkwardness in the air for the while that they were working but when they finished, his mother thanked her and said she was going to go pray. "Zoya can you make sure Zayna prays too? I have to remind her every day," she hesitantly asked her daughter-in-law.

Zoya felt very happy that her mother-in-law needed her for something and immediately complied. His mother retired to her room and Zoya walked out of the kitchen seeing that Zayna had put her school bag away.

"Zay, let's pray?" She called out for Zayna who nodded jumping with exhilaration. "I'll be right back with wudu!" And then the two prayed the Duhr prayer together. As Zoya made her Duaa she noticed how Zayna kept on looking at her.

Zoya finished her conversation with Allah and smiled at her. "What's up Zay?" She asked and Zayna seemed to grow shy upon being caught.

"Zoe, you're really pretty," she muttered and Zoya broke into a giggle. "Zay, you're the prettiest girl I know," she replied.

"No but really, I want to grow up as pretty as you," she muttered. Zoya hummed and grabbed onto Zayna's hand letting her sit on her lap.

"You're going to be prettier," Zoya told her which let her ease up and the excitement jostled back to life. "Zoe, can I do your hair today?" She questioned and Zoya nodded.

"I'll get some water and meet you in Zaib's room," Zoya told her. Zayna stood up but then turned and stared blankly. "You mean your room?" She remarked and then scurried away.

Your room.

That's right. It dawned upon her that now it was her room. Zaib's house was now her house and his family was now her family. It was strange to think about but it was the truth. She would soon get used to these foreign walls, the only gravity, being her husband. She suddenly felt a hollow ache in her chest. She was so dazed over Zaib and now that he'd left her alone for a few moments, she missed her family.

She wanted to call them to tell them how—

She heard her phone ring on the couch and quickly ran to its side. It was her mother calling. She quickly answered the call. "As salamu alaykum!" She cried and her mother's joyous reply made her even happier.

"Is everything okay Zoe? Is Zaib treating you well? What about his family? Are they nice to you?" She bombarded, and Zoya smiled hearing the worry in her tone.

"Mama, everything's amazing. How's everyone home?"

"Everyone's well Alhamdulillah. Bilal slept in your room and cried the whole night—"

"Mom! You promised not to tell her!" The familiar tantalized tone of her brother shrieked from afar and Zoya guffawed at his adorable embarrassment. "Hah, I thought he was planning on throwing a party. What happened," Zoya teased.

"I did. I threw myself a party! Your room's a mess now and there's nothing you can do about it!" The voice was now closer to the phone. Zoya scoffed. "Sure," she muttered and heard him sigh.

"Is Zaib good to you?"

"Its literally only been a day I-" Bilal chuckled. "Okay fine I already hear it in your tone, he's doing well." And Zoya quietened, blushing at the thought of him. He was doing more than just 'well'.

"Alright Zoe take care, don't become fatter and don't try to bake Zaib anything, I don't want him traumatized, shower regularly so Zaib doesn't stop liking you and also give my regards to him and tell him, he's lost the bet."

"Wait what bet—"

"None of your business. Okay Zoe, baba is still not home from the masjid I'll talk to you later. Fee Aman Illah."

"Wait but—"

The phone beeped. He really shut the call.

Why were big brothers so aggravating, why?

Zoya rolled her eyes and left to the kitchen to drink some water. She opened the cupboard looking for the glass cups. "What're you doing?" She jerked around, scared at the sudden acrimonious voice.

There stood Zain in his pyjamas, rubbing his eyes and giving her a look of disdain. Zoya retracted and greeted him. Zain seemed very outgoing and fun when she first met the family; however, in the later encounters, he radiated an unsettling energy. He didn't greet her properly even on the wedding day and seemed scrupulous.

"Why're you here?" He interrogated as he pulled onto the fridge handle. Zoya shifted uncomfortably. "I needed some water," she replied. He gave her another indecisive look.

"Don't roam the house like it's your own."

💜