Him & His Muslimah

40

Zaib/Zoya

The day had flown by quickly as they prayed their shortened prayers and after taking a tour of the cosy apartment, Zoya pulled apart the blinds from the window and stared in awe. The sky had darkened, bringing forth the moon and the stars. Zoya didn't think Switzerland could be any prettier but she preferred night mode.

Because the crescent moon hung low with stars filling up the dull navy. It was a perfectly serene place to spend time together. There was a time where Zoya would be afraid of the dark, but now she found comfort in the vagueness of it all.

"This place captures a full landscape view. Zaib, isn't this expensive?" She muttered, turning away from him, her arms folded as she stared outside her window.

Growing up with a family who always reminded her to value money, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the thought of money being wasted. He sighed. Her caution about the expenditure was sweet but he didn't want her to keep on worrying.

He kept the digital camera he was holding back on the table and walked towards her. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her waist and eased his chin on her shoulder. Zoya shrivelled with glory but quickly retained her inner self, hoping he didn't notice her freeze up against him.

"Zoya, we barely spent anything for the marriage. I want this trip to be our best one," he answered, closing his eyes and losing himself within the serene moment.

"Yeah I know but we can start saving. I mean, you don't have to waste money making things perfect."

Zaib's eyes flew open and he pulled away, shocked at her blunt words. He turned her to face him, his eyes wider than usual. "What does that mean? I'm just trying to make this a good trip and you think I'm wasting money?" She was taken aback by his raspy tone and gnawing gaze.

He was always one who didn't have a problem spending money if it was for his loved ones. The fact that Zoya even used the word 'waste' stung like salt to a wound.

The contrast between his voice made her panic and lose her composure. Zaib rarely spoke to her indifferently. Zoya almost swore at herself realizing how her words might've come off. She frowned, shaking her head. "No, I didn't mean it like that." She muttered, her heart dropping.

"I just meant that- you don't have to. I mean, you can but you don't have to do it for me. Because everything's already perfect when I'm with you. I don't need a perfectly beautiful sky," she visibly struggled, stumbling upon her words and grew anxious.

"Zoya, doesn't this beautiful sky make you happy?" Thank god, his voice had softened up again, making Zoya ease up as she looked into his eyes.

"It does."

"Then, I didn't waste any money. As much as it makes me glad that you think I'm enough, you deserve everything and more. You wanted the marriage to be simple and I respect you for that. But this is your honeymoon. I want to spoil my wife like there's no tomorrow." He cupped her cheeks and pecked her tiny nose.

Zoya smiled and it was a smile which had the potential to light up the entire darkness of an ocean.

"Thank you so much," she whispered and wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. 

He embraced her tighter and breathed in her alluring scent. She looked like a gorgeous painting and smelled like warm cinnamon buns. He couldn't get enough of her.

The sudden ring of the bell separated them and she quirked an eyebrow, curiously. He patted her head and chuckled before walking towards the main door and opening it.