𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐚

𝟎𝟕 | 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

"Clothe yourself with shyness
and armour yourself
with loyalty..."

Z A Y N A -

Talking her heavy dress in one hand, and turning the knob with the other, Zayna entered the luxurious room which was even bigger than hers. It was a full black room and Zayna wondered which was Azhar's favorite colour. His bed, his bedsheets, his curtains, his walls...everything was black. Just in different shades.

No wonder why he had a dark personality.

She sighed before thanking the servant who put her suitcases in the room. They came home an hour ago, and Azhar's cousins and family where keeping her busy. She hadn't seen her supposed husband since they came here. She was feeling lost and new in the house but Zafira was there with  her. She made her feel comfortable.

She unpacked her suitcase and only took a pair of appropriate pyjamas because she had a lot of inappropriate ones which she assumed where put in her bag from Shahnoor. She shook her head, already missing her little sister. 
She changed into her nightsuit and did wudhu. She wore her scarf and abaya.

She spread the prayer mat in the direction of the qibla and raised her hands. She knew praying was an obligation but Zayna always prayed for the peace of her heart and soul. Because she wanted to have a connection with her Allah.

When her head bowed in prostration, a few tears left her eyes. Her life was a mess, she had no control over it. Not even the rights that Allah had given her. They were snatched by some humans. At that moment, she just let all her affairs in the hands of the Almighty even she hadn't before. Zayna had faith, faith her Lord that won't do anything to her.

Her head was still in sujood when the door opened yet she didn't hear it as her soul was somewhere else.

The moment Azhar entered his room, he was met with an unfamiliar sight. His wife was prostrated in front of the Almighty. He froze for a minute. Her face wasn't visible to him, but he could tell she was crying because of her sniffs. His body tense seeing the relationship she had with her Rabb, something he never understood.

He sometimes saw his mother or Ami jaan pray but he didn't see them like this, like they were at peace. It was weird how her cries didn't bother him but instead made him relax. As if she was safe. He was still looking at her when he didn't realize that she had finished her prayer and was making her dua.

Azhar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to make his thoughts clear. He averted his gaze and acted as if he didn't notice Zayna who was folding her prayer mat. She put it in the closet and untied her scarf making her black short hair appear. Azhar, who just a minute ago, pretended to not care about Zayna accidentally took a glance
of her.

His eyes blocked at the view, her back was facing and Azhar never knew that hair could change a person so much. He couldn't help but notice how different - in a good way - she looked. Her hair were short, two or three inches under her shoulders and it suited her perfectly. They were curly and shiny. From a far, Azhar could guess how soft and well treated they were.

Zayna was nervous a few minutes ago about removing her scarf in front of a man. She wasn't used to it, even in her house she used to put it because they were many male servants working. She rarely got out of her room without her scarf on her head, and now that she had to remove it in front of Azhar, she was nervous. But she told herself that it was completely fine, he was her husband no matter under what circumstances their nikkah happened.