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Agra, India
It was almost time for Aryaan to leave. Her aunt brought him a tantalising hot cup of tea, but as he was drinking it, he repeatedly yawed. Already, his eyes looked red from exhaustion, so was Zoya's. Both of them chatted throughout the night, and since she was a chatterbox, she didn't care about letting him rest, whereas, he heeded her because he was also interested in knowing everything about her.

When his phone rang, he excused himself, putting down the cup gently on the table, and went out.

"Why didn't you sleep last night? Your voice resonated throughout the night. If you weren't sleepy, why didn't you pity the poor man and let him rest? He had a long journey. He also attended a wedding. And yet, you still kept him awake all night!" Her aunt voiced, angrily, and she nodded, this time accepting she was wrong. But what she didn't get was why he didn't inform her he was sleepy. She would have gone had he said it to her.

The previous night was a night she would remember for a long time, for sure, because he became an open book to her, where she learned everything about him. She smiled, recalling what had happened.

FB
"Hey, you blind heart.
Never stop beating.
For if you do
I don't know what I'll do." Aryaan recited the poem. He shared that in his leisure time, he tries to create poems, even though he's not good at it. Zoya agreed. In fact, he was terrible at it. She volunteered to make some adjustments to his poem if he wanted.

"Go on."

"So it should be like this. Oh, you blind heart." Her whisper was soft and soothing. His ears went deaf while his eyes followed her hands that waved from time to time, with a beautiful smile appearing on her lips. Her eyes turning darker and the change of emotions that she wore after every second. He slowly lowered his gaze down to her lips, which were moving as she was reciting the poem—very tempting and inviting.

Her loud clap made him shudder and blink.

"That's a better poem than yours. How was it?"

As he knew he wasn't listening and he didn't know how to tell a lie, he covered it by changing the topic. "Apart from poems, what else are you good at?"

"Zoya!" Her aunt's voice brought her out of the chain of thoughts.

"Yes, Aunt?" She was lost for a bit and had forgotten what they were talking about.

"What were you thinking about while smiling? I saw love hiding in those eyes. Who was it for?" She interrogatively exclaimed, scanning her. Her brows slightly snapped because she was thinking about what Aryaan and she discussed.

She went into another flashback.

"Since..." she cleared her throat nervously and continued. "Since you're a good psychiatrist, it was proven when I overcame the fear of rain. What do you have to say about this?"

"About?" He provided her with his complete attention.

"That day in your house, before the spirit possessed me, I had a bad dream. It was about my future husband."

"You already met your husband in your dream?" He laughed, and she waited until he was done before she proceeded.

"Yes. In that dream, there were three wives apart from me. I got worked up because of it. They pushed me away from him. They told me I had to share him with them. That's something I'll never be able to do. I can share anything except him. I know the religion; yes, it's sunnah, but there are many other sunnahs other than marrying four wives to gain reward. For example, smile at strangers. That's also a sunnah. Fasting on Mondays and Thursdays. I'll have no problem if he'll do that, but marrying another apart from me..."

"Whoever will add another wife after you is an ungrateful soul that doesn't realise the type of blessing God bestowed on him through you."

His words made her blush, and she looked down with a coy smile. "You think?"

"I'm serious. Whoever adds another wife after he marries you will be the biggest fool in the world. I believe you're enough. Your beauty and charm are enough to satisfy your husband as long as there is love between you both." His words came directly from his heart, and he was very honest about it. It travelled into her heart and sank in deeply.

"Where can I find such a man, though?"

"He may be in front of you."

His reply made her heart skip a beat, but she shook her head, her mind denying that he said it.

"You're single; so am I. To be honest, I like you. I told you about that daydream. Ever since you left, it kept replaying in my mind. I thought of taking your number from Ahil, but I was afraid you'd turn me down since you're Sanam's friend. If you're ready, we'll try, and any time you feel like backing out, I will respect your decision without asking about the reason."

"Zoya!" her aunt called out to her again. She flinched and looked at her with a wide stare.

"Where is your mind?"

"Me?" she stammered while Aryaan returned inside. He sat down and locked gazes with her, where her eyes brightened up for him. Her aunt, who was looking at them, shook her head, not in support of their growing closeness. On the other hand, his stare made butterflies grow in her belly. He didn't even want to blink because he didn't want to lose any opportunity to look at her. Her cheeks blew hot, and not able to contain the uproar of the butterflies in her stomach that made her bones go weak, she lowered her gaze, breaking the contact from her side.

"You should get going. I'll go and tell her uncle about your departure." Her aunt wasn't quite pleased with them. She knew there was a growing attraction brewing between them, but her experience tells her it's just the devil who wants to bind them into a relationship. She felt Aryaan was a nice guy, but she didn't feel he was right for Zoya. Zoya was like her daughter. She is her sister's daughter, but she considers her one of her own. She will always want what is best for her, and she feels Aryaan won't be that man for her. Since both of them are still young, what they were feeling was merely attraction, which she hopes will fade with time.

Months later.
"Ma'am, a parcel for you."

She signed the paper the delivery man asked her to and took it with her. She was very excited to see what was inside.

"Who was at the door, Zoya?"

Hearing her aunt's voice, she hid the parcel behind her back while she came.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"N..nothing."

Her aunt pulled out her hand, and she saw the parcel. She wore a frown, looking angry because she was hiding things from her, while Zoya looked at her apologetically.

"Sorry!"

She took the parcel from her, unboxing the brown cover on it. A brand new phone rested in it.

"Who bought you this? Was it Aryaan you stay up late for to chat with?" she yelled, expressing her unhappiness in their growing relationship.

"Yes. We can't do video calls anymore because the camera on my laptop got stolen. I was afraid to tell you so."

"You shared it with him, and he bought you a phone," her aunt concluded. "Come on, Zoya. Of all the men in India, why must it be him? I accept that his family is reputable. They all love you, but what you both are calling love isn't. It's an attraction, and one day that attraction will fade away."

"It won't. Our relationship is very strong. Nothing can break it," she responded confidently.

"One day, you'll regret these words. You'll wish you had listened to me instead of your heart. When the devil is at work, he makes everything look so beautiful until you follow him. That's the time he abandons you in the middle of a desert without water to suffer."

"Aunt," Zoya stared at her with an unbelievable look. "Give me my phone. I'll go and thank him."

"Zoya, you'll regret not listening."
Her voice reduced with each step she took towards her room. After she entered, she locked the door and checked the box, holding it near her chest.

"Ahhh!" she squealed with happiness as she brought out the slippery phone that had a shiny screen. Aryaan had asked her to check the phone's notes when she switched it on because he had already activated it on her behalf, and she did, very curious to know what surprise he kept there for her.

"I've always craved an unknown food. I've searched and searched, but none of it has ever satisfied that craving. I then sat and wondered. All the things I've eaten weren't able to satisfy me, so what exactly will? That bright smile on your face whenever I make a joke does the magic. My heart lightens up whenever I look at it. I wish to look at it forever. It did what all the other foods couldn't do. Your smile not only satisfies my heart but also my soul. It soothes my mind. People listen to relaxing music whenever they're stressed or bored, but I stare at your picture, and it instantly cheers me up. Keep being you, Zoya. I hope you'll like my gift." She reread the note countless times, still not getting enough of it. He has showered her with so much praise, so she thought of returning the gesture.

In Delhi, he received her two-page WhatsApp message. "My smile is nothing compared to yours. For me, your smile is my world. When I don't look at it in the morning, I lose concentration. People stare at the starry sky at night, but I stare at your smile. They love a scenic environment to improve their mental health, but your smile is my scenic environment. When they're sick, they visit the hospital for medication, but I see your picture. Your smile is my medicine. It melts me away, Aryaan. Whenever you smile, like wax, I melt. Keep smiling. Never stop," he smiled broadly. No one compliments him like she does. He enjoys reading her chats. During the past few months, they've taken time to understand each other, and now he can't spend a day without speaking to her.

•••••


Caps were tossed up by the graduants. The day Zoya would finish her tertiary education arrived quicker than expected. The only people present with her were her aunt and uncle because Aryaan's family was with Sanam, as they were graduating on the same day. After a busy day for both families celebrating in different cities, they returned home.

"Finally, no exams again." Zoya happily shared as she ate her food with no more tension.

Her uncle chuckled hoarsely. "No more exams. The only thing you'll need to focus on now is finding a handsome prince who'll take you away from us."

She smiled shyly, returning the straps of hair behind her ear, and whispered in response, "There is someone I have known for quite a long time now."

"What? And you never found it important to tell us?" he asked her.

"Aunt knows,"

Her aunt passed her a glare with a glint of disapproval in her eyes. "Don't even start that. Go and look for someone else."

"You see, Uncle. The man is nice. I don't know what Aunt's problem is with him."

"Who is he?"

"Aryaan. The first son of..."

"Ahmed's son," he understood.

"Yes him."

"That's a good way of rekindling the old relationship between his family and your late parents. By getting you both married, we'll form a relationship with them. But does their son feel the same way for you?"

"He does."

"That marriage will serve you nothing but lots and lots of bitterness. For once, listen to your aunt, Zoya. I can feel it." Her aunt warned her again, while her uncle shoved her away with his hand.

"Be quiet. It is a good alliance. I'll discuss it with his father."

In Delhi, Aryaan went up to his father, who was on the balcony, and shared.

"Father, I want to marry Zoya!"

His mom, who heard him when she went in, dropped the cup of tea she was holding. She squealed in excitement, going over to him and telling him to repeat himself. His father also didn't believe what he heard. He asked when he made that decision and whether Zoya felt the same way about him.

"She does. We love each other."

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