Lamia Shah didn't have the light in her life.
Being told that her father was no more and spending her childhood in pain from her abusive mother was enough to shatter any hopes for a better life. The sudden marriage of her mother to a man unknown to...
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Today was the Nikah- or as how Mohammad had mentioned it all along- the Katb Al-Kitab.
Marwah and Lamia were at their place getting ready for the wedding. The makeup artist kept her focus on the bride's face, applying the final touches of highlighter on her cheekbones and upper lip.
Lamia was too busy doing her own makeup, dabbing the blush on her cheeks to enhance the glow on her face.
Finishing the part with slight strokes of golden highlighter, she moved on to apply the rosy pink stain on her lips, pulling back and smiling at her work.
Taking a step back, her steady gaze raked her entire form from head-to-toe, eyes absorbing in how she looked for the event.
A sequined rose-gold choli hugged her chest, covering her breasts yet accentuating their curves. Two straps went above her shoulders, leaving her arms bare. The piece was tied at the back with two strings to keep it in place.
The lehenga flared around her, the material heavy and filled with a sparkle of its own. It was iridescent, a mix of a deep pink and a darker shade of the rose-gold of her choli, the colours alternating with every step of hers.
Her midriff was bare, a proof of how active she was at school. The diamond stilettos added a good extra four inches to her height, her heart glad for purchasing them last minute.
Lamia had made sure to have a good look at her body before trying on her clothes. Her mother hadn't struck her for a really long time, and she was thankful for that as her marks were almost invisible.
Grabbing her net dupatta, she draped it across her left shoulder before pinning it to keep it in place.
A shimmery beige shawl was placed on her chair. She had brought it with her to drape it on her shoulders and body for the purpose of covering them for the Nikah.
"Done," the makeup artist said, a relieved sigh escaping her lips as she pulled back to examine her work.
She moved out of the way to let Lamia have a look, and the girl held her breath once her eyes landed on her mother.
"Mama," she voiced lowly. "you look... b-b-beautiful..."
Her mother nodded in agreement with a hum, turning to look at herself in the mirror with a satisfied smirk plastered on her lips.
She was all dolled up for her wedding, the maroon dress clinging to every inch of her waist before spreading out down the hips.
If Lamia had to agree on one thing wholeheartedly, it would be that looks could be deceiving. Her mother looked like an angel from the heavens when in reality she was anything but.
