The Treasured Tales (One-Shots)

Wait For You

Wait For You
A One-shot

Genre: Romance

–

Samra, with much effort, carried the bucket up the stairs and onto the roof. Leisurely, she hung each article of wet clothing on the thin rope tied from one end of the roof to the other. Most people considered it a tiresome task, but she enjoyed it. She didn't have much to do anyway, now that she was married. Only waiting for her husband to come and take her along with him.

Oh, how she awaited that day.

Wahaj, her husband of one month, was a dream come true for her. Respectful, well-mannered, loving and caring. Bonus points for having studied with diligence. That's where he was right now, he had things to wrap up in the U.S before he returned to Pakistan for good and finally brought his bride home.

She hummed, lightly bouncing on her feet to the melody of Dil Diyan Gallan that was stuck in her head. It was a romantic one and she only thought about Wahaj whenever she played the lyrics in her mind.

A loud whistle boomed from her back and she quickly covered her head with her light pink dupatta. When she turned around to check the source of the whistle, her eyes widened and blush spread across her cheeks.

"Aap?" She barely managed to force the word out against her wildly beating heart.

*"You?" (respectfully in Urdu).

"Kaisa laga surprise, Jaaneman?" She was probably red as a tomato now. Wahaj had always had a thing for nicknames. She shyly covered half her face with the edge of her dupatta and a soft laugh bubbled out of him at his blushing wife. He was in awe of her beauty and simplicity yet again.

*"How did you like my surprise, Sweetheart?"

Samra and Wahaj had been neighbors all their lives and when his mother came to her house to talk about their rishta, no one had been surprised. She would never say it out loud to anyone but she had a crush on Wahaj for a long time. He was handsome, inside out.

"What are you doing here? You weren't going to return till next week." She had heard the two mothers talking about his return. She would never dare ask when he was returning by herself, she was too shy to do so. But that was one of his most favorite quality of her.

"I thought I would come early. You know, to see my bride and all." He shrugged but the color of her cheeks reddened. She had covered half her face with her dupatta now. Wahaj was greatly amused at her behavior. He was her husband, the one person she could drop all her veils around yet she didn't.

"Mein aajaon, aapse milne?" She looked up in shock at his words. He wanted to meet her?

*"May I come to meet you?"

She couldn't deny him, they were married after all. But she didn't know what to answer to him so she only gave him a subtle nod. That was all he needed as he rushed down the stairs of his own roof– nearly stumbling– and ran out the door of his house and knocked on the door of her house. She watched him from the roof, only going downstairs when he entered her house.

Samra's mother greeted Wahaj with a bright smile. She was proud to call a gentleman like him as her son-in-law.

"Aunty, if you don't mind, can I talk to Samra?" He politely asked.

"Of course. She's your wife. Let me call her." She turned around but Wahaj stopped her.

"I'll look for her myself, thank you." Samra watched the entire exchange from behind the wall that separated the inside of the house from the small lawn, hiding behind the wall once she saw Wahaj coming inside.