The next morning birds chirped outside the bedroom window. Branches moved with the hot zephyr smacking the glass panes, beaks pecking at the sill. Sounds of wings fluttering outside with the tiny squirrels nuzzling nuts into their mouths was as close to nature one could get. Bright sunlight shone down on the carpeted roads and baked the black cars, heat trapped inside. Laziness took over the city that was famous for its activities. Inside large mansions, without air conditioning and inside the small hut like homes, without fans survival was impossible. Seeking shade under the trees was a necessity and a bottle of chilled water was more common than anything.
With privilege came the advantage of not facing the brunt of the weather. Instead it was the many workers that rushed in and out of the home, getting last minute chores done before the guests came over. Breakfast had been prepared, already served on the glass tabletop dinning table. Porcelain dishes with gold leaves and vines had been taken out of the owners large array of crockery. Around the home smiles and laughter were exchanged in silence and some with complete loudness, it was after all the first day after the marriage, a special moment in everyone's life.
On the top floor of the modern home were only two bedrooms, a master one and another for the occasional guests. The master bedroom belonged to Dawaar, the room that was for the first time since it's construction still covered in darkness despite the clock striking nine. Both Dawaar and Zaara had stayed up late after the reception, doing some talking and then a bit more, their bones were tired to the t as they fell asleep after praying their first prayer together. Usually by now, he would have rushed out of the home, already to his posh office, but some days called for a break in the usual life.
Thick black curtains had been drawn shut, the room was a mess with clothes strewn around carelessly. The two figures on the king sized bed, one that had the roughness of a built man and the other a softness of a delicate woman were hidden underneath the silk blanket, the two wrapped up in each others arms and their legs entwined together. No one could tell that they had only been married for two days, already a silent understanding and a beautiful bond had been established between the two, and they were still unknown to it.
"Dawaar?"
Zaara blinked her eyes open, still full of sleep she stirred into his arms, the bulge of his bicep around her frame made blood rush up to her face. Her lips remained parted for a few seconds, her attention stolen by the strands of hair that flopped on top of his forehead. Her fingers combed them back, the tips of her nails scratching his scalp. He looked so young she noticed, so different from when he was awake. His eyes and forehead were relaxed and the arch of his brow was not as much pronounced. The curl of his lips was pulled upwards, as if like an innocent child he was dreaming of something beautiful, she hoped one day he would tell her of his dreams, his aspirations.
"Dawaar".
"What is it?"
His voice groaned, arms retracted as he turned his back towards her, giving Zaara the chance to spoon him, her lips resting on his neck. She could not believe that he was notorious for being a morning person, clearly that was not the case right now. Grabbing the ends of her hair she ran them over his ear, giggling as he waved his hand around in annoyance.
"You think this is funny?"
Dawaar's deep honey like voice pinched her ear buds. Instantaneously, he had turned over, pushing her on to the mattress. His figure towered over hers, holding her wrists above her head he ran the length of her face down with his lips, leaving small kisses along her chin and neck. Zaara's breath hastened as his hands neared her waist, she knew what was coming. She had to free herself. Squirming under his heated gaze she fought hard to free herself, but his grip was stronger — which lead to him winning the tickling competition. For him, she was always winning to loose.
