Riwayat- Epilogue

*****

"Waise, ghar itna kyu sajah hai?"

Dilawar questioned with glistening curiosity. The two were still sitting in each other's hold, if not for Zaahira who had tried to walk away when Dilawar wouldn't stop teasing her.

"Ab jisse iqrar karna chahiye, uske alawa baki sabko bata do."

He had complained when she wouldn't budge but just blush and mutter something under her breath before throwing a glare his way and then snuggling into his chest.

He wasn't sure whether she was being shy or angry but whatever it was, it felt adorable in a way and he let the matter slide- for now.

"Humare nikah ke liye."

And just like that, Zaahira cursed herself for not framing the words properly when Dilawar's gaze turned hard as ice with a fire so bright burning in them that he looked ready to wreak the worst of havoc.

Before Zaahira could blink, she found herself sitting on her husband's lap while he kept glaring at her, more so maybe at the scenarios in his head even though the physical victim turned out to be his zojah.

"Kisse?"

She had opened her mouth to retort, to calm him down but he didn't let her, instead, kept speaking with determined threats.

"Rehne do, main pata laga lunga. Khuda kasam zojah, us bande ko toh main.." he cursed in audibly to himself before closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. Dilawar shook his head to control the thumping rage in his blood and opened his eyes again only to find his zojah staring at him in amusement.

"Mazak lag raha hai tumhe yeh?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, tightening his hold around her waist, he pulled her closer and the surfacing smile on Zaahira's face was now lit, stretching from ear to ear.

"Awe, jealous, are you?"

She pinched his cheeks, loving how he huffed and silently threw her a warning look. Zaahira bit the insides of her cheek to stop the smile from surfacing and took his face in between her palms.

"Arey, humara nikah. You and me."

She pointed at him and then at herself.

Dilawar blinked a few times, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders disappear and as his mind processed the words, he cleared his throat and hummed in response.

Zaahira frowned at the reaction. Letting go off his face, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Itna rukha sukha reaction kyu?"

And as soon as the words left her lips, her husband just shrugged and placed a kiss on her forehead. Zaahira tried to remain a little disappointed but upon feeling his lips on her forehead, she felt the slight twitch in them before he pulled away.

"Phir se tang kar rahe hai mujhe?"

She bit out the words and tried to get up even though with the way her husband held her, she highly doubted her chances of getting away.

"Main?"

He asked innocently and Zaahira could only roll her eyes at him. Knowing that it was useless to have this conversation with him, she only let out a sigh and snuggled into his chest. Dilawar felt his lips stretching into a smile and placing a kiss on her forehead, he rested his cheek atop her head and let the silence engulf them, just relishing in the presence of her and letting his worries dissipate.

*****

"Yeh nahi!"

Mahira shrieked in horror when Zaahira picked the cherry lipstick instead of burgundy. The whole Malik house was chaotic since Zayn had decided to wed his daughter properly and with all the traditions being followed one more time- especially since the first was not really important in his perspective due to their lack of awareness on the news.

"Lekin mama, that's too dark."

Zaahira tried to make peace with the fact that her mother was going to turn her into one of those dolls that kids played with. The one where the girl was dressed in full red and gold and looked flawless.

Here though, she had chosen a gold and beige sharara that looked aesthetically pleasing to her. The normal red bridal dresses seemed too bright for her, hence why these colours.

"Chachi, don't you think burgundy would look very odd with this dress."

Darya came to her sister's rescue, subtly pointing that a light shade would look much better.

Mahira glanced between the lipstick and the dress and then letting out a sigh, she chose the peach coloured lipstick and let the burgundy one be forgotten.

Zaahira then sat silently, letting the females do their job- more likely remained stiff because of the constant glares that she received from her mother.

"Woh golden kade pass karo."

Dua pointed at the ones placed on the dressing table and Darya did as asked but before passing it on, she gawked at them and then gave a confused glance to her mother.

"Yeh kab aaye? Aap akele shopping pe chale gaye?"

Dua rolled her eyes at her daughter and took the kade from her hands.

"Main nahi, Zaahira ki saas ammi layi hai. As a ritual of some sorts."

Zaahira caught onto the light tinge of tease in her tayi ammi's voice and clearing her throat, she ducked her head a little down to not let anyone notice the redness that had surfaced onto her cheeks.

"Chalo bhai, abhi se itna pyar."

Darya threw a sly smile at her cousin who poked her tongue at her.

"Dekho toh who's talking. Aashna jaise tumhe har ghante phone kar ke tumhari khair nahi puchti."

Mahira smirked at her niece who blushed in return and ignored the woman while arranging the bangles in a proper pattern. The two elder women laughed at the misery of their daughters who could only remain silent much to the Malik bahus amusements.

"Kyu tang kar rahe ho meri beti ko?"

The familiar voice spoke from the doorway where Zayn and Zaviyar stood together looking at their wives and daughters with smiles of their own.

"Haan haan, naw mahine toh aapne hi pet mein rakha hai inhe, nahi?"

Dua spoke on behalf of both herself and her devrani who nodded her head in agreement. The men could only shrug and Zayn glanced at his daughter as though struck with lightning.

"Achi nahi lag rahi?"

Zaahira frowned on not receiving any compliments from her father. She looked up and down at her attire, suddenly feeling a little dim.

Mahira threw a glare at her husband, silently asking him to break his reverie and not to spoil the occasion.

Zayn coughed a few times, feeling as though his words had been stolen. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he walked upto Zaahira who was gazing at her mehendi clad hands in disappointment.

"Hira? Bache, you're not looking nice."

Numerous gasps were heard and Zayn felt a harsh slap on his back and by the force of it, he could only guess that it was from his wife.

"Ab nice itna phika word hai. Uska koi elegant sa synonym ho toh batao. Gorgeous? Lovely? Stunning? Take your pick."

Zaahira who would've almost teared up in sadness chuckled along with her father who took her in a tight hug. The others only shook their heads at the grown man-child but Zayn could care less.

It was his daughter's wedding. 23 years had gone by as though they were wind. In a blink, the little baby that had been put into his arms for the first time, wrapped in a furry blanket was now sitting in front of him dressed in her bridal attire.

Oh how life was nothing but just numerous moments meeting at a point. Making a perfect circle that when glanced at ages after looks complete and perfect.

Feeling wetness pricking the corners of his eyes, Zayn subtly blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced around in hopes to hide his glistening eyes when Zaahira turned his face towards her and Zayn gulped when he found tears streaming down his daughter's face.

"Joke itna bura laga ki aap khud rone lag gaye?"

She teased with a teary smile on her face and Zayn could only shake his head, not ready to speak through the gulp in his throat. His heart felt heavy with numerous emotions- half of them being gloomy due to the fact that his daughter would no longer be available 24/7 around him for him to annoy her with his pjs.

"Hum beto ko kya aashram se utha kar laye hai?"

The said voice scoffed and everyone turned to look at Zameer and Murad who were standing at the doorway with unpleasant scowls on their faces. Zaviyar smirked at his son and Darya thought to add fuel to the fire while giving a side hug to her father and gave a 'you still doubt it?' look at her brother.

"Haan haan, jao jao, dono ke dono jaldi se niklo is ghar se. And you..."

Zameer pointed at Darya who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Kya har din chali aati hai yaha?"

Darya made a thinking face and Zameer knew she had something interesting to say when the devious mirth seemed as bright as the sun in her gaze.

"Weren't you the one who asked me to visit at least twice every week?"

Zameer was about to give a counter response when he felt Murad walking past him and sitting beside his sister's chair on the ground.

The Malik family shared confused glances but remained quiet while Zaahira smiled down at her brother who coughed a few times and placed his head on her lap.

"Sar daba de please. Dukh raha hai teri wajah se."

An instant scowl formed on the bride's face and she would've shoved Murad aside if not for him pressing down his face on her lap and Zaahira was quick to register his movements, the shaking of his shoulders and the way he refused to look up.

"Murad, will you miss me?"

Zaahira whispered to her brother, the words would have annoyed him if not for the emotions in her tone and he gave a curt nod, still not lifting his face up.

"Haye, no matter how cute all this looks, we can't keep the groom waiting for long!"

Dua interjected, gushing over the kids and quickly placed the veil over Zaahira's head. Murad moved a little back and Zaahira too stood up from the chair. The bride glanced at her brother who was subtly wiping his tears and with a soft smile, she took him by surprise when she hugged him tightly and lightly whispered next to his ears,

"Itna ro mat. I'll make sure to annoy you enough even after staying miles away."

Murad playfully scowled at his elder sister and shoved her away. The elders only shook their heads at the banter and as fate would have it, Zaahira found herself sitting in front of the flower veil on the stage set in the backyard of the Malik mansion. The bustling around was loud and pleasant- an oxymoron in nature if you were to ask Zaahira.

"Bhai, thoda kam utawla lagne ki koshish karoge toh zyada behtar hoga."

Yazan whispered in Dilawar's ears whose eyes were busy trying to find the slightest glimpse of his zojah through the flower barrier.

Yazan gave up after the third attempt when Dilawar ignored him like he was nonexistent and continued the open display of his eagerness.

Grumbling under his breath, Yazan slowly walked around the stage and towards the food court that was calling out to him like a flower to a bee. The only difference was that he sneaked there as quietly as possible without causing unnecessary buzz.

"Side hato, mujhe bhi chahiye gulab jamun."

A female voice shrieked right next to his ears and he had to cover his mouth to not let out a horrified scream at the sudden presence.

Turning around, he came face to face with a woman who was busy making heart eyes at the gulab jamun, completely ignoring the grown man who she had almost given a heart attack to.

"A-aap..."

Yazan stuttered with the way his tongue suddenly seemed tied, not because he was bewitched but because he was annoyed.

How can she so easily walk away after disrupting his peace?

Dramatic, but that's what he was.

"Hato abhi!"

She walked past him and served herself a bowl of the delicacy. Yazan narrowed his eyes at her, slightly offended and slightly bemused.

The girl looked as though she had fallen in love.

"Excuse me, aap aise kaise behave kar sakti hai? Maafi toh maange pehle."

Yazan snatched the bowl from her hands before the spoon could reach her lips. The woman blinked, slightly taken aback and within seconds, a narrowed glare took over her features with which she seemed to be drilling holes in Yazan's body.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, he shoved the bowl in her awaiting hands and the woman hummed in response before continuing her eating session.

Knowing well that she wouldn't budge, Yazan turned around to walk away, suddenly at a loss of appetite and the Qazi too had arrived.

"Oye, sune."

He heard her call out and rolling his eyes, he glanced at her from his shoulders to find her wiping her lips and offering him a grin.

"Azra naam hai mera. Sorry aap ko achanak se surprise karne ke liye."

With that, she ran away towards the bride section while he stood dumbfounded. A never pulsed in his neck and he quickly looked ahead, knowing well that if he stared any longer, he might sprain the said part.

Shaking his head that suddenly felt full of blurry images, he made a beeline for Dilawar and as quickly as one could comprehend, the nikah ceremony had begun.

Zaahira fumbled with her fingers;

Dilawar tried to act calm and composed;

She wished for her heart to silence the unrhythmic squeals;

While he scolded his heart to tone it down and be at peace.

The nikah was done, whistles and hoots were heard, 'mubarakan' rang across the area, smiles were shared and the wait was over, the barrier had been dropped aur khatm hui muntzair ki aas.

Dilawar found his words being lost within his sane mind. His eyes refused to look away for even a glance for the sight in front of him was enrapturing enough. His heart stopped itself for a second, as if afraid that a single beat would ruin the moment while his soul sighed in bliss- the wait had finally come to an end.

"Oye hoye, lagta hai kisi ne seedha-"

Yazan had just only started when Dilawar mindlessly placed his palm on his cousin's mouth, stopping him from spewing any nonsense and breaking his trance. Yazan mumbled incoherently and let the groom be- like the starstruck lover that he looked like- and backed away, slightly alarmed and confused about whether or not Dilawar had been possessed.

Dilawar held onto his patience when he saw Darya brisking away his zojah away from the crowd and possibly to her room. Trying not to create a stubborn fuss about it, he remained polite throughout the next half an hour as people whom he hadn't ever met came and went.

"Ek second, dulha kaha hai?"

A female voice was heard among all the bustling. Dilawar gave a confused glance to Zaviyar who was standing beside him with an amused smile. Looking forward, he held in a chuckle when he found Dua hugging the life out of a woman who looked around her mid forties.

"Bas bas abhi, tumhare damad se milne ke liye mera zinda rehna zaroori hai!"

The woman joked and finally Dua let go of her but not before kissing her on the cheeks. Dilawar took a peek at Zaviyar's expressions only to find him frowning.

"I think that much love is enough."

Dua rolled her eyes at her jealous husband who was quick to create enough distance between her and her best friend, Ibtizam Bukhari.

The latter chuckled at the couple and turned her attention to Dilawar who suddenly straightened. Her kind eyes assessed him curiously while the smile remained intact. His gaze subtly moved to the elder man who came to stand beside Ibtizam, looking down at her with a barely visible smile before turning his attention to where Dilawar stood.

"Assalamu alaikum, the name's Ibtizam Bukhari aur yeh mere husband, Amir Bukhari."

The said man gave a curt nod and a smile to Dilawar which he returned with a slightly nervous one.

"Amir, loosen up."

Ibtizam mumbled to her husband who frowned down at her, not really sure what went wrong with the way he greeted the groom. Ibtizam rolled her eyes at him and gave a wide smile to Dilawar who felt his nervousness evaporating but just by a little.

Meanwhile, away from the hustle and bustle, Zaahira sat on her bed that had been decorated, though not as brightly as the one in Dilawar's.

"Zaahira, relax. Itna kyu ghabra rahi ho?"

"Wahi toh. Waha pe didn't they do this ceremony?"

Darya gave a side eye to Mayza, Ibtizam's daughter before shaking her head at the female. Zaahira glared at her friend who had the audacity to grin at her.

"Mayza!"

Zaahira let out an exasperated breath and the said woman only giggled and kept trying to place the bride's veil properly.

"Waise, Ahan bhai kaise hai?"

Darya took on the task to tease her friend. Mayza had been married to Ahan not long back. It had been roughly five months since the occasion and the way Mayza smiled so lively, it gave the impression that the new life had been treating her well.

"Ache hai."

Mayza shrugged, looking away from the two and one would've thought that she was shying away but to Zaahira and Darya who had known her for so long, the way her energy suddenly dimmed seemed concerning.

"Mayza, sab theek hai na?"

"Of course sab theek hai. Just the normal bickering stage, nothing more."

She assured her friends, offering them another one of her smiles, though this time, the life in them seemed to have been sucked away.

"Meri chodo, jiju abhi aate hi honge, hurry up!"

And just like that, the previous conversation was subdued and Zaahira was soon lost in her own worries.

Did she look good?

Was the make-up on point or had it smudged? But she didn't cry-

Wait, did the lipstick look too off? Would he-

Zaahira's eyes widened at her last thought. A lasting blush coated her cheeks as she mumbled incoherently under breath, ignoring the two females who gave her weird looks.

"Acha, we'll be out now. You'll have to stay here for the night anyways so..."

Zaahira threw the pillow beside her at Darya who laughed out loud and walked out of the room with Mayza hot on trail.

Their flight back to Dilawar's hometown was on tomorrow evening and since the journey was tiring in itself, the Malik family had politely requested the Kazim's to spend the night at their humble abode.

Trying to calm her racing heart and burning cheeks, Zaahira patted her cold cheeks a few times, hoping to calm the warmth that they had been covered with for so long.

Her ears perked a little when the soft sound of the door being opened reached her ears. Taking in a deep breath, she cleared her throat and sat up straight. Her mind became a mushy mess, not letting her think straight and hence, a frown rested between her brows while her cheeks were lost in a melody of their own.

Why couldn't she be calm and composed for once? Why did her brain have to overthink the slightest of things and then become a maze of thoughts that do not make sense nor are connected to each other?

"Itna kya soch rahi hai?"

She muffled a squeal of surprise when Dilawar spoke from just beside her.

Beside her!

Zaahira could feel the warmth he was radiating- so warm and welcoming and snuggl-

"Oh shut up!"

She groaned in annoyance, not realising that she had said it out loud and now her husband was staring down at her with a conflicted frown.

Biting the insides of her cheeks, she shook her head and mentally cursing her thoughts, Zaahira coughed in embarrassment and gave a sheepish smile to Dilawar even though he couldn't quite see it properly due to the veil.

"It wasn't for you."

She mumbled in an apologetic tone. Dilawar suppressed a smile at her antics and hummed in response, enjoying the way she fumbled in nervousness in front of him.

She clearly didn't resemble the woman who had questioned him on their first meeting- so uptight and rude. In fact, his zojah had suddenly turned from a lioness to a meek rabbit.

Quite contrasting, wasn't it?

"Yeh hataye abhi, garmi lag rahi hai."

And there goes his thoughts.

Zaahira complained to him with a whine. It had been over a few minutes since he was lost between staring at her and then in his thoughts while she controlled herself from throwing away the darn material that was clogging her for so long.

"Kyu? Is baar khud muh dikhai nahi karengi apni?"

She frowned when the teasing tone of her husband was registered in her ears. Scowling at him through the material, she huffed and was about to do it when Dilawar bet her to it and lifted the veil, eliciting a pleased sigh from his zojah.

"Finally. Itna kya dekh rahe the? This thing isn't even see-through."

Zaahira quickly pulled away the thing from herself and pushed it away, fanning her face a few times and adjusting the necklace around her neck.

Dilawar gave a playful glare to his zojah who giggled sheepishly before smiling gently at him and doing a once over of his attire. She couldn't get a quick glance at her husband when Darya had taken her away and now that she took her sweet time, her husband looked like royalty.

Adorned in an off-white Kurta and pajama, he also had an overcoat of white and golden embroidery. Like always, his broad shoulders were covered with a white shadar that he soon discarded along with the overcoat since the temperature was high and even with the AC on, it still didn't help that he had just come from outside.

"Haye, mere Allah."

Zaahira swooned to herself when Dilawar rolled up his sleeves till his elbow. The latter seemed to have caught onto her words that were low but not quiet enough to not be heard and hues of pink sprinkled themselves across the tip of his ears.

"W-woh, nahi- I mean ahh..."

Zaahira bit her tongue when no proper sentence would form. She blushed in embarrassment- again, though this time her husband was actually in front of her and not just the fantasies of her mind.

Dilawar suppressed a victorious grin, satisfied with her reaction and slightly bemused. Holding in a chuckle, he cleared his throat and pulled out a box from his pocket.

He had forgotten to get one the first time but repeating the same mistake twice was not his cup of tea.

Zaahira stared at the box in wonder when he forwarded it to her with a smile- a smile that she reciprocated albeit a little shyly.

"Aapki muh dikhai. Dekhe aur bataye kaisa laga. Unhe bola tha purple colour mein dene ke liye lekin last moment mein sirf yahi-"

Zaahira looked in awe at the bracelet. The beauty of it had made her blink a few times as she took in its design. White and baby pink pearls came together in a circle to adorn a white and golden coloured chrysanthemum flower in the centre. It was simply divine.

"Dilawar..."

"Acha nahi laga toh hum change kar sakte hai. Waha pe platinum ka ek-"

"Dilawar."

She pressed firmly and he held in his rant. Her eyes blinked away the clouding tears while he was alarmed-

Did it look so bad?

"Ro toh nahi zojah. Main dusra-"

"B-bahot acha hai. I-it's perfect."

Zaahira had no idea why she was crying. Maybe it was the simple intimacy behind the action or the fact that their first fight was due to the chrysanthemum flowers that he had uprooted. She couldn't help but let out a grateful sob and before Dilawar could beat himself up, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"Shh, meri jaan. Bas abhi, isme rone wali kya baat hai?"

He cooed gently next to her ears, giving tender pats to her head, he waited for her to calm down while occasionally placing a kiss on top of her hair.

Zaahira pulled away but just a little. Her eyes gazed innocently at her husband's who found it tough to even blink. Slowly wiping away the tear stain from his zojah's cheeks, he didn't realise when the tip of his nose brushed against hers.

Time felt agonisingly slow as Dilawar gulped and didn't let his gaze waver from his zojah's eyes lest he might end up doing something that she might not like.

Zaahira smiled a shy smile and gave a small nod and thinking of it as a figment of his imagination, Dilawar stayed still as a statue.

An adorable frown took over Zaahira's features and giving a small smack to the back of Dilawar's head, she mumbled like an annoyed child.

"Kiss nahi karna hai toh itna pass kyu baithe hai?"

Zaahira would've pulled herself away from her husband's hold if not for Dilawar tightening his arms around her waist. A nerve ticked in his jaw, his eyes seemed conflicted and Zaahira was about to say that it was alright when with a curse that she deemed a little too crude to be told, his lips met hers.

The touch was hesitant, it felt as if he was giving her a chance to back away and Zaahira felt her heart fluttering more than it already did. She pushed herself a little closer to him and with a barely contained groan, Dilawar took her lips in a firm yet gentle kiss.

He went slow, cherishing how it felt to be this close to her, to his zojah. His hands moved a little on their own, one held her down by her waist while the other raised itself a little up. Feeling loved to a point where it felt like a dream, Zaahira pulled away to take a breath. Her eyes were still closed while her lips felt a little tingly.

Dilawar gulped on seeing the sight that met him after opening his eyes. His zojah had her eyes closed, the lipstick was successfully smudged and her lips were a little swollen. Her cheeks resembled the break of the dawn, so beautiful and so enticing.

Not knowing how to suppress the urge within him, he kissed her again but with a feverish need behind it. The surprised gasp that had left Zaahira's lips was swallowed by him as he pushed her a little back, not once letting go of his hold on her or her lips. Zaahira found her hands resting at the back of his neck, giving the black strands a gentle comb but when she felt the soft surface of the mattress touching her back, her fingers on their own tugged at them in nervousness.

Dilawar felt sensations running through his veins like ones he had never experienced before. Her simple gesture left him electrocuted and no matter how he tried to lessen the foriegn emotions within him, the way she reciprocated his passion just heightened then more.

"Zojah.."

He murmured against her lips. Opening his slightly hooded eyes, Dilawar found Zaahira taking deep breaths. Caressing her cheeks gently, he kissed her temple and was about to pull away, knowing that these feelings were overwhelming and were capable of consuming the two whole.

"N-nahi."

She whispered shyly, pulling back to herself and Dilawar bit his tongue to feel a little bit of pain, confirming that she was speaking her wishes and not just a fantasy made up by his mind.

"Jaana, main intezaar-"

"N-nahi."

She tried to say it more firmly, knowing that all he wanted from her was her whole hearted consent and she was ready. She liked- maybe a little more than liked him and he was the only one who had the right.

"Sawal-e-Vasl par un ko udu ka khawf hai itna

Dabe hontho se dete hai jawab aahista aahista."

He whispered next to her ears. The way his voice had turned so raspy and husky, made Zaahira gulp- partly due to his words and partly due to his voice.

The words hung between them like a tranquillity filled caress of the wind as Dilawar kissed every inch of his zojah. The lullabies in the wind had turned into elements of passion. The night meant for sleep was spent encasing one's soul in the other's.

Breaths were shared, bodies were shown love, whispers of soothing and caresses as soft as the raindrops were all that the two had to offer because their hearts had already been prisoner of one another's the day their ruhs were brought to existence.

"Aapke bina nahi reh sakti, Dilawar."

Zaahira whispered to him as they lay in each other's arms. Dawn was awaiting for them around the corner and as he picked her up to clean themselves for the prayer that would soon be called, Dilawar rubbed the tip of his nose with hers and caressed her cheeks with his lips. Tightening his hold around her waist, he guided them towards the washroom but not before making a vow written on the stones of their destinies,

"Khud ke bina rehne ka mauka aapko is zindagi mein toh kya, Jannat mein bhi nahi dunga, zojah. "

.

.

.

The End

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Let me just go and cry in the corner because I couldn't find my personal Dilawar-

Ahm, maybe I'll delay that task for a bit and drop some bloopers regarding Riwayat, how 'bout that?!

Soo, they weren't supposed to be wed off like that, nope. Ataullah was meant to be the strict tribal head who would get the two married without any of the families knowing and then, Dilawar and Zaahira would take their own sweet time questioning whether to divorce each other secretly or to give each other a chance.

All in one, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this rewind version of the typical way we usually read and did you like it? Love it perhaps? How many hearts has Dilawar won? How many people are going to die single- wait, no, that was a little too much of honesty but never mind...

I'll try to post 'Bakht' soon. If you've been following the stories from the start you'd know that I had taken it down. I'll be writing it all again wayyy differently and would be merging the Mir siblings' story in one. (Yup, I seriously don't wanna drag Mehr-o-Mah more than I already have. Too many chaps don't settle well with me, weird, but that's me.)

That'll be all for Riwayat (Yes, Yazan would've a one-shot. Typical readers making me write more).

Shower your love on Dil-Zaar while I find spare fingers for myself.

Love ya cupcakes!

-Dilara💕

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