LEIA
A week later, I was dressed head-to-toe in crimson. A Mock-Neck top that ended low at my waist was covered in iridescent variations of golden and olive-green stones. The flowy skirt ruffled at my ankles, touching the straps of my six-inch gilded high heels. My hair had been glossed up and styled into a sleek bun at the base of my neck, so that a long scarf could be draped over my head.
That's not where it ended. Nope. There was a whole bunch of jewelry that cost more than . . . everything I'd ever owned or spent money on—A thick diamond necklace that weighed ten thousand kilos on my neck, two stunning gold bracelets with hints of emeralds on both wrists, exotic long, dome-shaped earrings and . . . there was no ring but I could already tell Zayn had it somewhere with him.
I was shocked he hadn't bought an anklet.
All these things had been delivered to my house one day after Zayn had come. There was a note amidst it all, saying: I know right now you're probably seething with anger and your stubbornness is unwilling to accept this but trust me, I bought everything with completely selfish reasons. Please, sweetness, please wear it. I want to see you in red ;)
So, show him I would. Let him be stunned.
A few minutes later, I signed the nikkah papers while Zayn remained in the mosque along with other men—both of our fathers as well as members of his family and friends. Later in the evening there was a dinner party arranged in Zayn's house and I was already in one of his many guest rooms, my mother and Hoor next to me.
They gushed over my makeup and I felt quite pretty, though the weight I had gained hadn't moved an inch. Oh well.
I was getting a little annoyed with the red lipstick, mostly because it wouldn't allow me to kiss Abdar Rahman like I so wanted to. He looked incredibly handsome in a black coat and pants, a cute tie round his neck. I wanted to kiss the hell out of his chubbiness.
"It's time," Mom said as she returned from outside.
My heart fluttered to life and for a moment, I had no idea what to do with myself. So, I kept standing awkwardly while Hoor scooped up Abdar Rahman into her arms, giving me a wink and vanishing out of the door.
My back was turned to the door and I stiffened with nerves as soon as I heard it click open. This was it. The moment of my life I wish I could freeze and experience over and over again.
The door closed.
There was a sharp intake of breath and a moment later, a rough hand landed on my shoulder. I bit my lip as I—deliberately—twirled back, my skirts and scarf spinning, eyes locking with Zayn's.
"Shit," he breathed.
I watched his eyes rove over my face and something sizzling hot snapped into place between us. His hand slipped up my shoulder and right before it met my cheek, he said, "May I?"
I was jittering with nervousness and offered a short, swift nod.
His knuckles grazed my skin with so much care, I felt like I would break down crying. "So beautiful," he murmured. "You are so, so beautiful,"
My cheeks warmed, neck flushing. I took in his clothing too; a charcoal grey coat fitted across his tight chest over a crisp white button-up, drawing attention to his strong, thick arms. Of course, I looked down at his thighs too. I couldn't help it.
"You, uh," I stuttered, forcing my eyes up. "You look pretty good yourself."
He chuckled, chest rumbling and I felt it all the way into my belly. His fingertips grazed the line of my jaw and for a moment I wanted to feel the thick hair of his beard too; to run my fingers through his perfectly gelled hair but I knew there'd be time for that later.
So I let him explore.
He tapped my right earring, making it swing forwards and backwards. "When I bought this all, I tried to think what you would look like. But," he shook his head. "I never imagined you to look . . . like this."
My lips curled. I told myself to stop being shy and grasped Zayn's hand into my own, drawing it away from my face.
"I think we should leave," I said. "Everyone would wonder what we're doing so long in this room."
He grinned and I lost myself in the light in his eyes, the creases of utmost happiness on his face. It made me feel terrible for doubting him for even a second.
"You're my wife, Leia," The words struck me into inaudibility. "I'm pretty sure they have some idea of what we're doing."
I flushed at the words, stepping back from his embrace. "Oh . . . Uhm. Okay. Well, we should be in . . . your room. My stuff is there."
H raised his eyebrows and the mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was having completely different thoughts. "Riiiight,"
He was literally going to torture me all day. I didn't know if my cheeks could give out any more heat and I sure didn't want to find out.
"Zayn," I whined. "Let's go."
"Leia," he said in a sickly-sweet, girly voice, mimicking my tone. "It seems like someone is in a hurry to go to my room."
I ordered my cheeks to shut up. "I don't know why I wasn't allowed in. I literally didn't even wear any perfume because everything has been shifted to your room."
"You smell amazing," he murmured, eyes glazing as he entwined his fingers through mine. "Come then. Let me show you what the rave has been about."