Written in the Stars

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tere muhabbat ki hifazat kuch is tarah ki humne
ke jab kisi ne dekha to nazar jhuka li humne
___

A bride sat on the bed, her silver lehenga lined with stunning mothis and laces, spread around the entirety of the king size bed. Her silky brunette tresses were neatly twisted into a crown braid, as a similar net dupatta laid fleeting across her face, waiting for her groom, to do the honours of lifting it.

The bride let out a puff of exaggerated air, as she mindlessly checked her henna painted hands, her eyes slowly scanning over the intricate patterns before stopping at one particular. Aaban.

The name was safely entwined and hidden in a series of motifs and was supposed to be discovered by her ex-fiance.

A chuckle left her mouth much like the time when her horrified and aggravated Abba, informed her of how her ex-fiance had run away and was nowhere to be found, this evening before their nikkah.

The catastrophe had been the best thing that could've happened to her until her parents decided to get her married to the Spawn of Satan. Her Dearest Husband.

"Haan! Haan! ese hi haste-haste tumne hum dono ke raste kaat diye. Aur Haso." Speak of the devil and the devil is summoned, her husband, Azlan Sikander, drew her out of her thoughts as he stood at the frame of the door, his muscular veiny arms crossed over his chest as the jacquard black kurta stretched deliciously over his shoulders.

(Yes! Yes! Like this only you laughed and made both of us get caught in this trap, Laugh all you want.)

Scrunching her nose in disgust, as if someone had puked all over her life, quite literally, she threw back her wanna-be net veil. As she raised her henna printed fore-finger in his direction.

"Ab aap zyati kar rahe hai, Azlan Bhai."
(Now you being injust, Azlan brother.)

The man visibly flinched back as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, almost pained, before he started taking slow steps towards the bed where she sat.

"Zyati to mere saath hui hai. Kisne kaha tha tumhe chaval ki raani jaise hasne ko? Humare Abba Jaan ko lagaa arey, mere pyaare dost ki beti sadme se paagal ho chuki hai, chalo apne ek laute bete ki shaadi isse karwa dein." Azlan seethed through his teeth as he ran his and through his lucious black locks.

(Injustice happened with me, who told you to laugh out loud like the queen of idiots? My beloved father thought "oh my dear friend's daughter has lost her mind because of the shock. Come on let me marry my only son to her.)

"I was laughing because i was fricking happy i didn't have to get married anymore, Azlan Bhai. Marrying you is a straight nightmare."

"Zyva.." He dragged her name through gritting teeth as he towered over her body.

"Je-e" The girl shivered clearly intimidated by the huge man, but trying her best to put on a brave face.

"If you ever so utter that word from your mouth ever again, god so help me, I'll do something horrifying." He whispered dangerously close, his hot breath fanning over her cheeks as he tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Zyva gulped closing her eyes tightly, her cheeks heating up red.
"W-what word?"

The girl was testing dangerous waters, A smirk curled up at the corner of his lips as he brushed his lips ever so slightly against her ear lobe, causing her to shiver visibly.
"You know what word, sweetheart. Don't provoke the beast."