Less Than Perfect

{19} Roses and Thorns

Kanza Hadad

I'm such a creep.

Here I was resting against my husband's chest and staring at him while he slept. Total creep on my part, but a sense of tranquility passed me as I saw how peaceful he was. Usually, Tanwir was impassive or stern in his expressions, rarely showing his personality outside of those closest to him.

I was lucky to be one of those people, someone who would be dear to his heart.

After Fajr (dawn prayer), we ended up talking until we fell asleep again, whisked by the ribbons of marriage and the silks of peace. We were engulfed in a bed of petals that flew us into a realm of dreams, where fairy tales seemed real and tragedy was only a story among a thousand pages.

When I woke up, I saw his sleeping face, a reminder that my tragedy didn't have to be the end, that my story continued. I lived through love and loss, through a mountain of humiliation and back. This time, I had a partner in life, a man who promised to cherish me for all my life.

I had Tanwir.

Dappled sunlight traced the outline of his jaw, shadows crossing his visage as the sun illuminated the gold of his skin. Warmth ignited from him, filled me with the heat of wistful longing, an urge to reach out and touch him.

A part of me felt bad that he was stuck with a wife like me, but another part of me was glad that he was mine. After so many years of an unrequited love story, I finally saw the words on a page, the inkling of our story coming to life. The darkness formed figures that danced among parchment, a new adventure waiting to be told.

He breathed deeply, fast asleep as the birds chirped outside our apartment window. His tousled midnight hair was a mess against the pillows, loose, rowdy strands falling across his forehead.

My fingers reached out, heart pounding in my chest, and I lightly brushed the strands away. They felt like silk under my touch. He stirred in his sleep, brows knitting together as if disturbed, and then he relaxed again as if nothing could disturb his valley of dreams.

I wondered what his lips would feel like, whether they would be as soft as his words, or as rough as his passion. Would they fit mine like they did in books? Would he lose his control from a slow kiss?

Unfortunately, my alarm blasted through my phone, making me jump in surprise. Nice going, genius.

As I scrambled around to find my obnoxiously loud phone, my husband groggily woke up, blinking away the sleep from his eyes as his gaze fell on me. Given that his glasses weren't on, he could only squint and see a blur of colors instead of my messy bed head self.

"Found it!" I said with a smile, turning off the dozens of alarms I had set.

My fingers hovered over the silencer until my eyes landed on the notification, an event I completely forgot about. I was due for a stream in less than an hour. No wonder my alarms went off like a freight train.

A line of stress began to ignite my vision as I realized that I still had to prepare my stream and make myself presentable at the same time. So much for spending a morning together, I thought dryly.

"Kanza?" prompted Tanwir, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Where are you going? What time is it?"

I smiled at him. "You can sleep in. I'm sorry if I woke you up with my alarms," I started to laugh nervously as I rummaged through my things in search of a brush, hijab, and some makeup. "I have to be on live soon, so you can chill in here until Damon comes back with the rest of your things."

He reached over for his glasses, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose. When his gaze settled on me again, his features visibly softened, a faint glow of the morning sun etching across the golden tan of his skin, a river of gold sparkling in the essence of his smile.