23) Beginning of the ultimate chaos.

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AsSalamuAlaikum! Ya'll, a quick update as a token of love for all the love you showed on the previous one.

Warning: The quality might have been compromised. Facing a major writer block these days. Urghhh!!! Trying to improve tho. Prayers needed badly.

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"No, not like that. Chop it in small chunks, Ayat," Ahid said from where he was marinating the chicken, keeping a full eye on her so that she doesn't mess it up but not pushing it too much to not throw her off.

"You know, now I get why khaala always stressed on me learning to cook; so that I wouldn't have to feed my husband pebbles," Ayat said as she swiped the sweat away from her forehead from the back of her arm, her dupatta was discarded on the chair.

"Yeah, but she didn't know it was me you were gonna marry back then." He wrapped up the bowl with an aluminium foil and proceeded towards cutting the onions Ayat was supposed to cut.

"No way...," she squeaked, jerking Ahid as he extended his hand towards her to hand him over the knife. "You gave me the easiest task of all. I'm not gonna fail this one as well. I can do this."

"What's the point if a husband can't even spoil his wife?" He questioned raising his brow. He had donned a white T-shirt, the sleeves miraculously hugging his muscular biceps, his hair magnificently unkempt.

"But I don't want you to spoil me. I really wanna learn this stuff, now, so either teach me or go."

"Al right!" he shrugged. "I'll go, then. My task for now is done anyway." replying nonchalantly, he had just spun around when she called him from behind, "But before you go, could you please teach me?" She said, almost pleading and a playful smile lingered on his lips, his eyes stretched into the cocoon of lines around them.

Raking, a hand through his chestnut hair, he turned towards her and taking small strides reached her. The bun of her chocolaty hair was swinging against the nape of her neck while a few locks framed her porcelain face miraculously.

He reached out his hand to her face and she shivered, tilting her head while their eyes encapsulated each other. With a tenderness of his warmth, he rubbed his thumb against the fading wound on her forehead. "It's gone." His voice came out all husky.

"How could it not after you made such a big deal out of such a small speck?" She asked rhetorically, in awe of her own fate. She was incredulous at the pace her life was going, considering herself the luckiest woman in the entire universe having found such a precious life partner who couldn't even see her in a tad bit of pain. Each morning and night he would change the dressing of her wound without any break, not listening to her blabbering that she was fine and he was just getting worried over nothing. "Ayat, please let me do it for my own peace. Seeing you in pain agonizes me so don't think I'm doing it for you," he had said.

This man and his way of showing his deep love and care for her without making it sound cheesy. She was never into sappy romantic love stories, but did she want one wholesome cheesy confession from him? Heck yeah.

But the camaraderie among them was cumulating and she didn't want to ruin their growing friendship in the name of love which she knew was already there. Sometimes she would think how this man fell for her. Did it make any sense? When did this all happen? Why did it happen? She wanted to ask him so badly but she couldn't fathom enough strength to do that, not right now at least. Their life was going smooth, too smooth to be real; to the point where it would sometimes frighten her as if something horrendous would happen and wash all their happiness away.

He grazed his knuckles against her soft as silk cheeks which suddenly turned scarlet due to their proximity and his almost tickling touch.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Adih?" Zeliha's riled-up voice broke their not-so-intimate moment as they pulled away as if been electrocuted.

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