Ready? For Marriage!

Afaaf. Twenty.
Shakir. Twenty Three.
She, living in the U.K.
He, in Australia.
Her, very independent.
Him, very determined.
Cultures Clash. Fights Follow. Tears Tremble. Laughter Lies. Spurious Smiles.
But, how does the marriage still last?...

• • •

He turns his head, his mouth close to my ear. I can feel his breath on my skin as he says. "I forgot to tell you earlier. But you look good. Gorgeous actually."

I turn to face him and stare him in the eye. Is he serious right now. He came to my house to basically tell me not to expect him to be the husbandy type, and then he whispers in my ear that I look good. How more confusing can he get.

I'm still staring at him, when he smirks. "That's what most girls want to hear from their husbands right."

Way to ruin getting yourself in to my good books. I think. He turns his head with the smirk still on his face busying himself by looking into the crowd.

I can't let him get away with that. Thinking he's won... Whatever game he thinks we are playing.

Slowly I move my lips close to his ear, the same way he did to me, I glance at the crowd to see that nobody is watching and whisper. "Well I'm not just any kind of girl."