. . .
❝Once upon a time, a girl fell in love with her husband and made the stars realise that they'd gotten her soulmate wrong.❞
. . .
It's a daunting thing, your first love. It's new, making you unsure and doubt whether it's love or just a mere...
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"GO AWAY."
I sighed. "You are just a giant ball of sunshine in the mornings, aren't you?"
My husband let out an annoyed groan, turning to face the other side and pulled the covers up to his ears, essentially telling me to fuck off.
Well, I wasn't in the mood to listen.
"Zayaan, it's literally after twelve. What the hell are you still doing sleeping? Get up." I relentlessly smacked his back — as non-violently as I could — and heard him mutter something indecipherable.
"Fatimah. Go away. As you clearly couldn't see, I'm trying to sleep over here. So leave me alone." He dismissed me, eyes still tightly shut.
I heaved another sigh, turning to glance at the rain that was still steadily pouring outside. It was Sunday — two days after my ankle injury — and I'd planned to go visit Eve today, but the rain had soiled all my plans. I wasn't even surprised that it was this cold with a blistering downpour of rain in September: this country had the most bipolar weather that I'd ever had the pleasure of encountering. And I didn't dare to go outside in this weather; I had school tomorrow and the last thing I needed was to catch a cold and spend the entirety of the next week coughing and sneezing.
So I'd picked the wisest option and had come to wake my husband up, trying to see if he could be any entertainment of any sort. But this plan was also becoming more void by the second as he'd suddenly decided he wanted to sleep the whole day away.
"Why do you look so tired anyway? What time did you go to bed last night?"
"Four." He mumbled, burrowing his head further into his pillow, seeming so unlike the bossy man he usually was during the day.
"Four? What on Earth were you doing up so late?"
"Chatting up my secret girlfriend," he said dryly.
I laughed at the imagery. Yeah, right. "You can't even manage one, and here you are talking about having two. Think of something more believable next time, buddy." I patted his arm. "But you've had eight hours of sleep now anyway. That's more than enough sleep for a fully grown man; up you get, Zayaan."
He let out a low growl, finally sick of me bugging him, and twisted his body around quickly, yanking me down onto the bed and capturing me in a headlock. A tiny squeal escaped my mouth as my brain caught up with what happened, and as the panic subsided, my nose started to twitch since there was now a smattering of my hair on my face, irritating my eyes and nose and I wiggled around, trying to brush it away.
"Let me go!" I smacked his chest, trying to free my head, but his grip only tightened.
"Stop it."
"My hair is all over the place. Let go of my head!" I shifted around, trying to pry off his iron-like hold.
