Like Chalk And Cheese [Completed]

Dear Diary

Dear Diary

I know what exactly is the first question in every person's mind for the newly wed couple the next morning, and I'm not, absolutely not, in any case whatsoever, over my dead body really, indulging anyone into it. It's a private sacred thing between the husband and wife, why does nobody seem to have enough sense to not go about whispering to each other in front of them about how they did "it" last night, and then having the nerve to so blatantly inquire about it too.  

Forget Nimra and the others, even aunties wanted to know how it was. It's preposterous! I mean, do I even look like the person who would talk about it?! Do I ? Me, Warda Zam—Hasan, who right now is scarlet and warm even though the husband is not home and I'm in the car on the way to college and the driver is probably judging me and oh god, the girls there are definitely going to give me a hard time too. Ugh, I wish I could take a day off but I didn't want to sit at home and wait for him like a moron, plus mid semester exams are coming in two weeks, and I have barely done any preparation for them. I wish we could go honeymooning right away. Pyramids and camels sound really exhilarating in the middle of exam pandemic and also now that I know it's no longer just a distant dream.

And about the wedding night, dear diary, I’m only writing this down here so don’t you dare let yourself get in anybody else’s impure hands, it’s just for the sake of sharing the experience with someone. It was so sweet, istg - the hours that I was awake to witness the night - I honestly don't even know where to begin.

So as expected, I was sitting in the middle of the bed like a traditional wife although not waiting for him with my head bowed like a traditional wife. I had my phone in my hands and was about to turn off the wi-fi, because Nimra wouldn't stop sending question marks in the girl group, asking if Hasan had started taking off my clothes. First off, why would I be bloody texting during the deed, secondly, if I, for some unearthly reason, had the phone with me, why the actual heck would I be relaying it to anybody at all? I can't even think about it to myself without having my insides melting, let alone indulge into the "spicy" details. Blast Nimra for not shutting up and prompting the other girls to bug me too. Seriously, if they’re so desperate to know how it is, they should get married to get a first hand experience and know how it really is.

Anyways, he walked into the room the moment I had placed the phone back on the side table. I smiled up at him, my heart already thudding against my chest, expecting him to sit down in front of me and say things of the sort men say in local tv dramas and movies. Instead, as he unclasped the buttons of his white sherwani and then took it off, he instructed me to change out of my heavy clothes too.

My mouth immediately went dry. I blinked stupidly. "What?"

"Change into something comfortable, perhaps in your night dress? Don't take too long, I'll be back in a minute." Placing his sherwani on the bed, he passed me a quick glance and taking long strides went back out of the room, leaving me conflicted and incredibly nervous and slightly scared.

I remember thinking why he was so eager to get to it and couldn't act like a gentleman at the time I most needed him to, it was honestly freaking me out. Regardless, I did as told, deciding I'd tell him to slow down when he’d return, also wondering what on earth he was doing anyway.

But before he came back, I heard the sound. A loud, thunderous sound I took no time to recognise as helicopter wings. And a moment later he was in the room and was lacing his fingers in mine and taking me out in the backyard.

The sound was so deafening, I could hardly hear him when he told me to wait while he’d climb up the ladder first so he could pull me up after him. The helicopter was hovering just above the house, its ladder thrown down for us to climb up to it. I bet everyone else was outside the house too to watch the spectacle. My shoulders squared and chest puffed up, feeling ridiculously smug. Well, who else in our neighbourhood got their wives a helicopter at the doorstep on their wedding night? I bet nobody did.