Written In The Stars

...Comes Ease

© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

Anaya

"Let me read it." Faiz leaned across the bed to try and have a look on my laptop, but I quickly minimised the window.

"No." I shook my head.

"You told me you would let me." He frowned slightly, kissing my upper arm as he propped up on an elbow beside me.

"Not yet."

"What could you possibly be writing that you're embarrassed to show me?" His eyes glinted mischievously.

I blushed so hard that he probably figured out the answer. "N-nothing like that." Just a super romantic scene.

"Now, I'm even more curious." He grinned. "Come on, show me."

"It's just..." An idea suddenly popped up into my mind. "Hareem said that the main male lead was a lot like you, even though I started writing this before I met you. And now, he's intentionally like you."

"So, perfect body, handsome looks?" He teased.

"No, full of himself and cheesy." I tugged at a lock of his hair lightly.

"I'm your husband, and I genuinely want to read it."  He said, seriously.

I sighed. "Fine." I opened the app on my phone, and clicked on the reader view of my story and handed it to him. "Don't make fun of me, and be honest, if you're bored."

"I'm sure I won't be." He sat up, leaning against the headboard and started reading as I continued writing. The thing about him is that I trusted him so much that I knew that he would never try and sneak a peek, so I was comfortable writing beside him. Even when he 'tried' to look earlier, he had just been teasing me. Suddenly, he looked up. "Wait. Did you say Hareem read it? My barely sixteen-years-old sister, Hareem?" 

"Okay, stop acting like I'm writing Fifty Shades type stuff." I rolled my eyes. "Astaghfirullah! And if it was that bad, I'm smart enough to not let Hareem read it." 

"No, I'm just saying that Harry gets to read it, but you were hesitating with me?" 

"Hareem and I have developed a special bond because of our writing." I admitted. 

He continued reading, but I could tell that he was happy to hear that I was getting on well with his youngest sister. Actually, now that I think about it, I got along well with all his sisters and mother. I was still on the fence when it came to Rumi, but even she was behaving these days.

"Hmm..." He said, a while later.

"What?"

"'Theoretically speaking," He walked past me and leaned against the railing, staring up at the night sky. "What would you say if my parents spoke to your parents again about us?'" He read out a quote*. "That's an interesting way to propose."

*I'm being a little cheeky, and I used an actual quote from my other book, 'For Our Love'.

"Well, I tried to make it as cultural appropriate as possible." I blushed, thinking about my main lead. When I used to write about him, my heart pounded harder, because he was the definition of my ideal husband. But now that I had Faiz, I now had my ideal husband. "I know it's still not that most appropriate way, but..."