under the covers [hs au]

chapter sixty-five.

I'm so sorry this took 5 months. I love you. I am going to be more consistent now. Just a few more chapters, promise.

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Jingle . . .

Samira winced, removing the sparkly, yet pointy jewelry off her ears with her henna-embroidered hands. A bright red color covered her full lips, and her eyes lined with the finest, darkest kajal. Gold bangles adorned her wrists, and a heavy chain hung around her neck. A luxuriant lehenga embroidered with gems and stones draped her body.

Noticing all the death glares through the mirror at the corner of her eye, Samira turned around, her vanity chair squeaking as she struggled to remove a sharp earring,

"What?" She questioned.

"Are you not tired?" Surat gaped, raising her eyebrows. "We all came here to help you undress and go to sleep."

"Oh." Samira laughed, feeling a cold chill tickle her skin. "I'm fine. I think. It's only midnight, right? Y'all can leave."

"Here," Noureen interjected, getting up off the hotel bed. She fixed Samira's shoulders, and Samira gasped, her gaze forced to the mirror. Noureen's hands went to Samira's nape, unclasping each necklace.

Eyes wandering from friend to friend, Samira inhaled sharply through her nose, leaning into Noureen's touch.

"Let us take care of you." Tasneem sat in the tiny space on the vanity chair, holding a wipe near Samira's cheek.

"Someone else will be taking all of this off tomorrow." Mahnoor wriggled her eyebrows, removing the dupatta off Samira's shoulders.

The thought caused Samira's eyes to widen, and her heart drubbed in her chest. Her hands reached for the vanity, and she chucked a makeup brush right to Mahnoor's arm.

"That's enough." Samira rolled her eyes. "I'll probably be exhausted tomorrow."

"I highly doubt you will," Alexia snorted, pulling out each bobby pin from Samira's luscious curls.

Heat rushed to Samira's ears, and she shot a glare at Alexia in the mirror.

Samira didn't have to move a single muscle; they removed every bit that clung to her, unloosening her hair and wiping her face bare. She adorned a cloud yellow kurta, which swayed over her body snugly. A deep breath, one which Samira hadn't taken in a few days, filled her lungs, and then it hit her—Samira hadn't dreamt for a night in the past few days. A wave of weariness danced down her spine, and she collapsed on the bed.

Samira gazed at the dazzling ring on her finger, a piece that fit like a glove. She smothered her face into the pillow, longing for a pair of hands to rub her back.

"I want my mom," she groaned. "Where is she?"

"Omma is sleeping." Surat sat next to Samira, leaving a dip in the bed. "I think she's a little sad. Leave her alone."

Frowning, Samira lifted her head: "I haven't even cried myself."

"I honestly don't see any reason for you to," Noureen replied, simpering.

"Okay, but . . ." Alexia held a laugh, squeezing Samira's shoulder. "What if it's small?"

"Shut up," Samira tittered. "Big or small, he can use his fingers."

"Can he?" Mahnoor raised her eyebrows.

"Says the one who hasn't finished once in her life."

Mahnoor's mouth fell open, and she yanked Samira's ear—letting out a yelp, Samira cowered into the pillow, covering her head with her arms.