💎 Z A Y N 💎

By incognitoxwriter

42.2K 1.6K 1.8K

The Ahmed Trilogy Book One Can be read as a stand-alone .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•... More

INTRODUCTION
01
02
03
04
05
06
07
08
09
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
35
EPILOGUE

34

624 24 44
By incognitoxwriter



'Overdose' - EXO

Unedited

Something came up. So I'm going to have to go MIA. I don't know if I'll be able to update. I'm so sorry, but it isn't within my control. I'll try my best.

.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.

"Yes, just right there, that spot," Syra breathed out as Zayn massaged her shoulders.

"Just tell me why you decided to rearrange the whole room on an impulse. We are moving out soon anyways! And if there was a problem, I could have done it. Now you are in pain. And your due date passed. You could give birth any moment now!" Zayn stressed, taking out his frustration by kneading his knuckles into her shoulders, lubricated by olive oil.

The doctors had told Syra to stop breastfeeding. Which she tried to do, but literally the same night her chest hurt so much, she could feel lumps as well. Milk had also leaked all over her shirt. So she resorted to expressing it and then giving it to Imran. He ate his baby foods anyways so he didn't drink as much as he did from before.

"Look I just had to. Once it was in my mind, there is no going back until we do just that. And I thought it would be mean if I ask you to push furniture around right when when came back tired from work," she defended herself.

"Syra I'm eighteen, I'm not going to be tired from a couple of hours of work. Before I was as I had two jobs and college and revision but now I'm refreshed and energetic," Zayn explained.

"Energetic is spot on," she muttered under her breath but Zayn caught on to it.

He grinned, "Its called stamina. Comes from being a gym rat," he boasted.

"You're a rat. Full stop. Also, when are we having the rest of our wedding celebrations?"

"You turn eighteen this July so we will place them in a way that the registry ends up after your birthday. We can stay here in the meantime because I think we will need a little time to adjust. Also we can now start moving stuff into our house and choosing what we want, so it should be ready by July,"

"Don't you think it will be hard? We get so much help from your family," Syra mused.

"Well I think it will take time getting used to. I won't work for the first week of moving in, and on Fridays we either come to this house or they comes to ours, and Saturday we either go or your fam come. We are also on the same street as my sister."

Syra was silent this time, thinking hard. He could tell that her mind was running at some insane speed, piecing what to do here and there.

"We need to get Imran the COVID vaccine as he will soon be turning one," Syra suddenly remarked.

They had managed to find a successful vaccine for the Corona Virus. But there was an age limit to who could get it. People older than sixty and younger than one could not get it. And if you had other problems in your body you have to treat those first before you are permitted to get vaccinated. That's why social distancing was put in place for those who weren't within this age limit. Elderly and infants would also not have a strong immune system as those within the age limit, so this was taken very seriously. Only those who had gotten COVID already were allowed out. They were currently searching for one for those above sixty.

Before the vaccine came about, there was chaos. People wore masks, gloves, face screens, disposable plastic over their clothing. They hoarded groceries and toilet paper. Zayn has thanked god that he didn't use tissue to wipe his ass. He would not be caught walking around with shit crumbs stuck up there. No toilet paper was an inconvenience but they had their faithful lotas and Muslim showers.

"We should do it in the week that I won't work. Because he will be sick after getting it. And it will just be a handful for you."

Syra nodded, making the most of her massage. Zayn worked from 6am to 11am and Syra would wake up a little before he came home, so they would eat together. Both of them liked staying home rather than going out but now they had Imran who drove them nuts.

Syra's mucus plug had also broke. Which meant she due to go into labour in a week or so.

.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.

Zayn woke up suddenly from his sleep. His leg felt like it was wet. He was so lost. Did Syra wet herself by accident?

He lifted the duvet off him and slowly rolled off, not wanting to wake her up as she was a light sleeper. He reached over and turned on the lamp.

His right thigh was covered in some wet stuff. There was some red too.

Alarmed, he gently shook Syra.

"Syra, wake up. Wake up, quickly," he whispered urgently, not wanting Imran to wake up.

Syra turned over and rubbed her eyes.

"What is it?" she groaned, still tired.

"Did you pee yourself? Because my leg is wet. And there's some red stuff too. Are you okay?" He asked.

This caused Syra to snap her eyes open in alarm.

"I couldn't have peed myself - I went just before sleeping," she struggled as she pushed herself up, leaning over to turn on her bedside lamp as well.

She pulled back their white sheets to see a clear damp spot. Not that big or small. It had no odour either. Syra gasped.

"Zayn I think my water broke!" Syra panicked, running her hands in her hair to push it away from her face.

Zayn remembered Nurse K saying that your 'waters breaking' is different for all women. Some have it right when they need to push out, some have it even before their contractions start.

"Do you feel contractions?" he asked.

He needed to remain calm, so Syra remained calm.

"No, not yet,"

"In the meantime, we'll get out stuff ready for the hospital and see how you feel then,"

Syra nodded, breathing heavily, but she seemed to have relaxed.

"Yeah, okay,"

The pair quietly set off, changing their clothes, taking quick body showers, brushing their teeth and hair. Syra wore palazzo trousers and loose maternity tunic. She kept her jersey scarf around her neck so she could just wrap it around her head when they needed to leave. They had already packed their hospital back and deposited it next to the front door.

An hour later after they woke up, they sat in their room. It was past three in the morning, and they had just finished parting Fajr when Syra had her first contraction. She was sitting on the chair she had just prayed on.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she hun he'd over her belly, holding her breath as the waves of pain hit her. Zayn knelt beside her, feeling so helpless, just giving words of encouragement and giving her his arm to squeeze on.

She let out a pant as the contraction ended.

"Oh my god," she groaned, leaning back in her chair.

Zayn didn't know what to say. She obviously wasn't good right now.

"Let me tie your hair," Zayn offered.

Syra nodded, leaning forward for a second so Zayn could gather all of her hair. He gently brushed it all out, then gathered it in his hands. He knew it could fit in one hand. With the other he pulled the scrunching over it and repeated that twice more. He tightened it and brushed through the ponytail again. Then he braided it for her, so it didn't get in her way.

"I just need to wait until my next one and see the time between each. Once they get closer together, that's when I think we should make our way to the hospital," she said, pausing to catch her breath in between.

"Mamaaaa," wailed Imran.

The pair swivelled their heads in his direction to see him sitting up in his crib, rubbing his eyes. Zayn, thankfully had the foresight to bring his milk up ready for him to drink. He got up and walked over to Imran and picked him up, picking up a towel and wiping the sweat away. Children sweat so much. God. He then settled on the bed with him and gave him his bottle.

Ten minutes later, Syra had another contraction. She was in a lot of pain, and all Zayn could do was be there for her. He wished with all his heart to lessen the pain. He prayed for a quick and easy delivery without complications.

Sure enough, they made their way downstairs. He debated on whether to wake his parents up or not but found them in the kitchen already. Even though it was almost four in the morning.

"Ammi? Aboo...?" Zayn asked them.

"Salam, Zayn. We heard you and Syra awake so we didn't sleep after Fajr. How is she?" asked Ammi.

"Yes, her water broke and she's having contractions ten minutes apart so we are thinking of making our way to the hospital now," Zayn replied.

"Okay, I'll drive you," his father put in.

"And Imran? I can take care of him the whole day," his mum offered.

Zayn felt relieved. He wasn't sure if they would let Imran in the hospital as he was under one at the moment.

"Yes, okay. He's sleeping right now. I'll just fetch the baby monitor,"

"Okay then, we will leave after that,"

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"I want an epidural!" Syra demanded, screaming as another powerful contraction hit her.

She was not yet fully dilated yet the contractions kept coming, so she was told not to push. Zayn's hands and arms were numb from her squeezing on them, he was her his eardrums were busted but that was the leash of his problems. Syra was out here sounding like she was dying from the pain.

So they have her an epidural, and not long after announced that she was ten cm dialated, therefore ready to push. And she did.

On the 17th of June at 5:10 am, Syra gave birth to Hashir Mushin Ahmed.

A loud wail filled the room. The nurses quickly untangled him and held him up. Zayn went over to cut the umbilical cord. The nurses then wiped him quickly and wrapped him, giving him to Zayn to hold. Syra had yet to give birth another time which was why they couldn't hand him to her.

The feeling was indescribable as Zayn held tiny Hashir on his arms. His bright green eyes, just like his mother, blinked slowly, his tiny mouth open like an O. Zayn laughed at him, holding his tiny hand. He walked over to Syra, sitting next to her.

"Sia, look, he has your eyes," Zayn told her.

Syra opened her eyes and turned her head, a smile blooming on her face as she looked at her son.

"Hashir," she whispered, tears welling her eyes, stroking his spikes of silky black hair on his head.

The nurses then took him for checkups and readied Syra for the second delivery. She seemed all too much in a hurry, eager to meet her sons.

And 20 minutes later, at 5:30am, she delivered Hayder Asad Ahmed safely into this world.

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I think I forgot to mention that Syra turned seventeen just a bit after she gave birth to Imran, and now she's turning eighteen. I am not yet going back to read my work cuz I'll do that wen I'm back for major editing. ;) I was confused as to write a chapter in Syra's POV and then the epilogue or just write the epilogue in her POV but I decided against the latter because imma be honest I cramped up the last chapters. In my opinion. They may seem stretched but I basically waffles till I reached at least 2000 words which was the minimum for each chapter.
Ya I'm also having really bad cramps like the ones where it hurts to talk, breathe, move or anything. I haven't got my period since January soooo.

2010 words.

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