The Wedding Trials [ A Harry Styles OU ]

The Shaadi

Shaddi is the Indian word for wedding. An Indian marriage is intricate and includes many events both leading up to it, and during the ceremony itself. From the baarat to the mandeep, every moment of this day is special for the Mr and Mrs to be. 

Anushka is sitting on the couch in Aryan's dressing room, her henna dark and ready to go from the night before. She's tracing the patterns on her left palm with her right index finger, absentmindedly letting her mind drift to the slightly drunken stupor she went on last night. But, she's not ashamed.

In fact, from the moment she shut the door on Harry after he'd walked her back to her room (after a good 10 more minutes of not so subtle making out against her room door) she'd been thinking about him. His lips, his messy soft brown hair that fell slightly over his forehead if she messed it up enough. The way his hands had slipped around her bare waist with such ease, with such a gentle yet determined grip. The way he panted and moaned and tugged her impossibly closer to his chest under the twinkling lights of the gazebo.

And it didn't end at the simple act of reminiscing. No, Anushka had admittedly had an interestingdream about Harry. She'd woken up in a sweat with her alarm blaring, her hair wild and her fists clutching the sheets so tightly that when she uncurled them, her hands throbbed with pain.

She bites the inside of her cheek in hopes to stop the embarrassed smile from sliding onto her lips, shaking her head and pulling herself away from the recollection as Aryan calls something out to her from his bathroom.

"What?" Anushka cries back, setting her phone down in her lap as she cranes her neck.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Aryan calls back.

Anushka falters, "No, your mom sent me here to make sure you put everything on the right way, dulha*." She flips her phone over when it buzzes, smiling at the screen when she sees it's a good morning text from Harry. "So hurry up, slowpoke. The baraat isn't going anywhere without me so the longer you take the more time you spend on that horse."

Aryan doesn't say anything and she glances at her reflection in the mirror on the wall across from the couch she's sitting on. She'd gotten her hair and makeup done by the artist they'd hired for Lizzie upon her insistence. They'd sat together and once they were both done she'd sent Lizzie off to her dressing room promising she'd come check on her after Aryan was ready.

Anushka is typing back a response to Harry when Aryan clears his throat, stepping out of the bathroom and turning in a circle with his arms wide and an even wider grin on his face.

"So? How do I look?" He asks, putting his hands into the pockets of his silver trousers.

Anushka drops her phone and leans closer, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She gets up and walks over to him, standing in front of Aryan, making sure he's got all the buttons and clasps done on his indian suit. It's white with silver details and it makes Aryan's brown eyes practically sparkle.