Maariya hates weddings. The bustling noise. The rude, pervasive, invasive questions. The gossip.
But most of all, it was the couple.
Forced to attend a wedding out of obligation to her friends and parents, Maariya meets the most enchanting and capti...
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Chapter 10
"We can skip this affair," Fawaaz said beside me.
I turned to him and rolled my eyes. The venue was a sickening eyesore, but I kept my opinions between my best friends and I.
"Please come outside with me and have a cigarette," he pleaded as his beautiful eyes widened.
I hid a giggle. "The bride hasn't even walked in yet, Fawaaz. We can't run yet."
Saarah kicked my leg under the table, and I held back the painful ouch that was threatening to escape. Glowering at her, she spoke. "Please take him outside. Everyone is glaring at you."
Across us, a moody couple sat with their fidgety seven-year-old. "Some people care about the couple," the man hissed at me as he glared daggers.
"Speak to her again in that tone," Fawaaz said as he faced him head-on. "I could care less who is watching, you will leave in an ambulance."
"Fawaaz," I said quietly. "It's fine, let's go outside."
The other guy huffed. "Dude, I can wipe the floor with your face," he spat at Fawaaz.
A ball of unease sunk to my lower stomach as I worried that Fawaaz might rise to the fool's challenge. Zareef, Raees and Muaaz sat unperturbed as my friends, and I watched the two men uneasily.
"Come, Buttercup, let's leave this guy."
"Chicken," the guy spoke under his breath.
Fawaaz stood up and held his hand out for me, knowing that he would not touch me, I turned, and he pulled my chair out. It was all the confirmation he needed.
Static from the mic echoed painfully through the opulent hall that was horribly decorated. "You okay?" I asked as I followed behind him.
His tall frame and broad shoulders shielded me from people bustling in to get to their seats as one of Samira's uncles announced that she would soon be entering. I wasn't too sad to miss it. I was now only at the wedding for man that I was following outside.
"Buttercup?"
The door was opened and led to a garden. I walked through before I responded. "Jee?"
My eyes surveyed the area as we walked a distance away from the door and into a more private section of the garden.
"Jazakallah for calling me outside," he said as he gestured for me to sit on the wooden bench.
Along the length of the garden, rose bushes acted like barriers. With the cool breeze, Fawaaz and I were fortunate to receive fragrant air often. The bench was located in a section where anyone who came out of the hall would not easily see us unless they walked along the side of the hall. Fawaaz had made sure that we hadn't ventured too far.
