(IT'S GONNA HAVE A LOT OF COUPLES)
In a village, where justice is scarce, a girl of 11 is married off due to a tragic misunderstanding.
Her 17-year-old husband, torn apart by his brother's murder, burdened by duty, becomes her unexpected protector...
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(I really hope you guys enjoy 🌻)
As sunlight flooded the room, gently rousing Almeer Khan from his slumber, he stretched his limbs and let out a soft groan. Rising from the couch, he took a moment to loosen his stiff joints with a series of satisfying cracks. Memories of the previous evening played in his mind, bringing a subtle smile to his lips as he glanced over at Aynoor, who lay peacefully asleep on his bed. Despite the events of the night before, there was a sense of tranquility in the room as she slept, her breathing steady and calm. Observing the fading bruise on her face, Almeer felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that she was healing. Yet, beneath that relief lay a deeper emotion-a gnawing sense of pain that stemmed from seeing her hurt.
As Almeer approached Aynoor, he couldn't help but notice the peculiar way she slept, her limbs tangled in the sheets as if she were in the midst of a race in her dreams. Her long hair, freed from the constraints of the chaddar, spilled across his pillow, a sight that stirred within him a primal urge to protect it. Shaking off his reverie, he gently smoothed the comforter over her, ensuring she was properly covered before making his way to the washroom.
However, a thought crossed his mind, and he paused in his tracks. Retrieving his brush and towel from the nearby cabinet, he decided to shower in Yazdaan's room instead. It dawned on him that Noori might wake up while he was gone, and it would be uncomfortable for her to wait alone. With that consideration in mind, he made his way to his younger brother's room, intent on ensuring her comfort even in his absence.
Almeer cautiously returned to his room from Yazdaan's, the towel draped over his shoulder. As he turned the doorknob and stepped inside, he was met with a sight that left him stunned. There stood Aynoor, adorned in HIS favorite T-shirt, paired with her salwar, clutching her frock from the previous day in her hand. His gaze drifted to the water droplets trickling down from the twisted fabric, leaving moist imprints on his expensive and cherished carpet.
The surrealness of the moment threatened to overwhelm him, as he struggled to comprehend how his cherished possessions had found their way into her grasp. For a fleeting moment, he felt a surge of frustration.
"Noori!! ye kya harkat hai??"he asked, his expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "Andhe he hogye hain kya sach mai? Ye meri frock hai, maine dholi hai,"she retorted in a tone that implied he was missing the obvious. Almeer's jaw tightened as he struggled to comprehend her reasoning.
"Dho di matlab?? Ye sab tumhare karne ka kaam nahi hai! Jaake isey bathroom mai rakh aao,"He instructed her, his tone softening but firm. Aynoor's puzzled expression persisted as she questioned, "Par kyon?"Almeer sighed inwardly, feeling like she was a walking question mark.
Almeer's expression softened as he saw Aynoor's confusion. "Noori, ye geeli hai, aur yaha is se saara farsh geela horaha hai," he explained calmly. She looked at him with understanding, but then voiced another concern, "Baat toh sahi hai lekin mujhe isey sukhana padega, warna mai kya pehnu gi?"He nodded in understanding, realizing her dilemma. Moving towards her, he gently took the frock from her hand. "Laao, ye mujhe do,"he said softly, carrying it to the washroom and placing it on the sink.
