15. Tears • آنسو

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I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her name was grief. - C.S Lewis

Ayna rested her head against his pectoral. His thick arms, wound around her bare slender waist, tugging her closer. His broad back cut off the cold wind from reach Ayna, his hands tracing soft flowers against the exposed part of her stomach. A soft, lazy smile on his face.

"Ayna?" Zaeem kissed her browbone.

"Hmm," she hummed in reply, nuzzling her face deeper into his warm chest.

"If I made you a ring right now, would you marry me?" He whispered.

White fog descending on them, as pure as their affections for each other. Ayna placed her hand against his cheekbones, eyes taking his facial expressions noticing the sincerity in them.

"I would. I'd marry you even without rings Zaeem". She uttered.

Zaeem chuckled, sitting upright, bringing Ayna's body along, hugging her tight. He dropped a kiss on her collarbone. Taking a few wildflowers and making them into a makeshift ring. Sliding them onto her finger, leaving a soft kiss.

"You deserve all the riches in this world janum," [beloved,] Zaeem whispered against her lips.

Ayna giggled in glee, her fingers softly sliding up his arm, resting against the heated skin of his throat. Her thumb softly rubbing in circular motions, a prideful smirk resting on her lips as she stared at him lazily.

"I know a lot of people who'd beg to differ," she poked her tounge out.

"Logon sai kia lena dena humara? Kuch tou unko kehna hi hai, I'd rather they say shit on our walima," [What do we have to do with people? They're going to say something regardless,] [wedding reception,] he clicked his tounge.

"Will your family agree?" She tapped his nose.

"They will. Love is the most important part in my family". He uttered with great pride.

"Of course it is, have they considered the one you're in love with being a prostitute?" Ayna scoffed.

"You realise my eldest uncle married one. Her passing is a whole separate situation," Zaeem smiled softly.

Ayna nodded, taking a deep breath, resting her body in his arms she looked up at the stars. A chilly dread settling in her bones as Zaeem hovered over her, his eyes starry as the sky above. A childlike innocence rested upon his features as he drank in her own, nuzzling his nose against her cheek in a soft artistic stroke. Giggles bubbling in Ayna's chest.

"Zaeem!" She laughed.

The sound of her soprano giggles reverberating against the still air. His hands sliding around her waist, tickling the exposed skin.

"Marry me right now Ayna!" Zaeem begged.

"Why not wait until tomorrow? Bring your parents over like a proper gentleman?" She teased.

"Kyun keh kal kisi nai nahi dekha," [Because no one has seen tomorrow,] tears filled his eyes.

"Marriage or not. I'm only your's Sardar Zaeem. Ap har haal mein Qabool hain, Qabool hain, Qabool hain". [Noble] [In any condition I accept you, accept you, accept you.] Ayna whispered.

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