Since we had no actual house over here, the Maliks offered us 2 rooms in their home in which we could get ready. I was even provided with my own hair and makeup people. (I could get use to this).
Today is my nikaah... my nikaah. It sounded so strange on my tongue. I don't think I've been able to hear anything since I woke up this morning besides my heartbeat thumping deep within my eardrums. We arrived early morning at the Malik house. Hair and makeup were well on the way. I decided on curls that were pinned up and I could easily were my Hijab over this hairstyle. Makeup included a smokey eye and nude lip. Just as we were concluding with make up, there was a knock on the door. It was Amaan's mum. "Malaa'ika! You look absolutely gorgeous Masha Allah," she whispered. I smiled a great smile and noticed she was carrying a dress bag under her arms. She laid the dress out onto the bed. As I approached her, I couldn't help but gasp. Lying across the satin duvet was the most voluptuous, silky, diamante encrusted gown. It was the whitest white fabric I had ever seen, fully dressed in silver diamantés and a purple satin belt lay flush across the waist. "This is so so beautiful aunt! I... I couldn't... " she grabbed my hand, "it's mum for you now and yes you can and you will." I felt something burning at the rim of my eye. A tear? No, I've never, I'm not this emotional fool. I closed my eyes tightly, not allowing the liquid to seep through and gave her a great hug instead. "Thank you so much, for everything..."
"Alright alright none of this now. You need to get ready, there's a very nervous man waiting for you downstairs," she laughed. In a few moments I was ready and walking down their grand suitcase. Walking straight toward the rest of my life...
Amaan's POV
I found myself fixing Rayhaan's tie for the 10th time since the morning. Poor kid probably wanted to punch me in the nose. I couldn't help it, I couldn't sit still and my eyes kept travelling toward the staircase. Seriously Amaan. Chill out! Yaseen suddenly approached me and said that it was time to move into the lounge area because the bride... my bride was ready to make her way downstairs. I was almost out of the room when I heard a room full of gasps. I couldn't help but sneak a gaze. Oh my word... I felt my own tie suddenly tighten around my neck. She. Was. Breathtaking. I felt my brother tug at my sleeve and I was pulled away, sending a piercing pain straight through my chest. The next few moments went in the nikaah proceedings. In conclusion, I was asked that final ultimate question, do I accept this woman as my wife? As my companion, as my equal half in deen and dunya?
Qubool hai qubool hai qubool hai. I accept I accept I accept.
Then it was her turn and I heard my voice echo in hers.
Qubool hai qubool hai qubool hai. I accept I accept I accept.
And just like that she and I, became us.
A sea of people surrounded me and congratulations were echoing from everywhere. My eyes searched for my parents, my brothers, my wife. My mother was sobbing away as I went over to greet her. I know this moment was even more hers than it was mine.
"Please don't cry mama you know are can't handle your tears, not even the happy ones." She laughed at my concern. As I was pacifying her, I felt another presence beside me... Malaa'ika. She hugged my mother tightly, sending shivers down my spine. I was always worried about their relationship or lack thereof. But this gesture gave me such contentment. My mother reached out and took my hand in her one hand and held Malaa'ika's in her other before giving Malaa'ika's hand in mine. I glanced up at her, causing her to look away. I held on tightly, though her grasp was light. Suddenly, the crowd around us grew and we were being pushed and pulled towards our garden area where we were hosting a supper for our guests. Malaa'ika's grip tightened and I suddenly felt super protective over her, shielding her from the rampage. Laiqaa came to us and told us to that we were going to enter from the back. She left us at the kitchen entrance. For the very first time, Malaa'ika and I were truly alone. We were silent, still avoiding each other's gazes yet our fingers still intertwined.
"Amaan? " she said so softly, I almost didn't hear her. "Hmm?" I asked, moving a little closer to her. She looked up at me, a hint of worry in her eyes. I was confused, what was wrong? What was she going to say? "My dress Amaan... it's it's..."
"It's beautiful," I said before I could stop myself. She laughed out loud for a second. "Noo... I mean thank you. But that's not what I'm saying " she said a little louder, " it's caught on my shoe and I can't well, bend... " I smiled at the adorable concern in her voice. "I've got this," I told her with a wink. Reluctantly letting go of her hand, I bent down and tugged at the fabric that was wedged between the sequins on her silver 6 inch heel, careful not to hurt her. Her skin was warm against my hand. She squirmed a little, I stood up. "Those shoes are a death trap!" I told her. She wacked me across my arm, her touch like a velvet hug. I couldn't concentrate when she was so close. "Amaan..." she said, interrupting my thoughts, "they're calling us. We began walking down the stairs into the grand garden all lit with strings of glowing lights. Malaa'ika's shoe may have given a bit of trouble again because she clutched urgently onto my arm. I leaned in and whispered, "On second thought, those shoes may just be my favourite." And then we were walking down really staircase with everyone waiting for us below. Yaseen stood at the end of the staircase with a microphone in hand.
"Ladies and Gentleman, I'd like to introduce to you, for the very first time, Mr and Mrs Amaan Malik. "
The gathering burst into applause.
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Thank you so much for the continued love and support. My writing thrives upon your encouragement! Please let me know what you love, what you don't really like, your predictions for the story ahead. I want to know Everything basically! I look forward to the interaction. All my love. Happy reading x
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Greyscale Angel
RomanceA writer shines through black and white. Black ink upon white paper. This is my canvas, words are my art. They said I was mysterious, that my past makes me dark. No one saw the light in me, no one but him. He said he saw my light, I say, he was my l...
