𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

47

Arsalan POV:

My eyes flutter open at the sound of rustling sheets. The room is dark, but I can make out a figure sitting at the corner of the bed. It doesn't move.

"Airah...?" I call out softly. I hear a sniffle.

I throw off the comforter and quickly get out of bed. As I turn on the lamp beside me, I move toward her. She sniffs again. Oh, her mood swings-here we go again. But that's okay, I can handle this.

I kneel in front of her, noticing how her hair falls around her face, partially hiding the tears on her cheeks. "What happened, my love?" I ask gently. Is she feeling sick? Is something wrong? Please, let it be nothing serious.

She shakes her head, sniffling again. I squeeze her hand. "Look at me, love," I say softly. Slowly, she raises her head to meet my gaze.

"What happened?" I repeat, my voice calm.

"I..." she starts, but stops, sniffling once more. "I... I'm..." she hiccups, and I gently wipe the tears from her cheeks, making her look at me again.

"I'm... c-craving butter chicken," she whispers, her voice trembling.

For a moment, I'm relieved. She nearly gave me a heart attack. I glance at the clock-it's almost 5 in the morning.

"How long have you been up?" I ask.

"Since 3:30," she replies.

"And you didn't even wake me up?" I ask in disbelief.

She shakes her head, and I let out a small sigh, standing up. "Just wait here," I say, then leave the room, I walk down the stairs, the cold air hitting me as I enter the kitchen. The house is silent, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the refrigerator. I flip on the kitchen light, squinting as the brightness fills the room.Butter chicken at 5 AM... well, if that's what she wants, that's what she'll get.

I quickly gather what I need, moving with a practiced ease. The familiar sounds of the kitchen-drawers opening, pots clanging, the soft hiss of the stove-fill the space. I focus on my task, working quickly yet quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the early morning.As the chicken starts to cook, the kitchen fills with a warm, savory aroma. I can't help but smile, imagining the look on Airah's face when she smells it too. I make sure everything is just right, keeping an eye on the time. It's not exactly a five-star meal given the hour, but it'll do.

Within a short while, the butter chicken is ready. I place everything on a tray, including some warm naan I quickly heated up. Satisfied with my work, I turn off the stove. "Bhai.....?" I turn around to find Iqra standing a few feet away from me, "yes?" I ask softly. "What.......butter chicken?" She says as her gaze lands on the tray. "At this hour?" Shock fills her eyes when she looks back at me. "Oh sorry did I wake you up?"

"No no its the smell, it's all over the house........but butter chicken? At this hour?" She asks again.

"Airah was craving it," I answer and grab the tray. When I look back at her she looks surprised. "Now if you'll excuse me," I say and exit the kitchen. I re-enter the room, to find her already asleep on the bed. Ya allah! Grant me patience. I take a deep breath then again go downstairs, and cover the food. Then I leave for salah.

Airah POV:-

"Please......." Tariq pleades. I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, reading my book and Arsalan sits on the single couch besides me, reading a newspaper with a cup of tea. Gosh! Who does even read newspapers these days? He is just 31 but his actions make him seem like he's 61.