Until It Was Real

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞

I had gone upstairs to freshen up after Zaigham, already planning in my head what I'd make for dinner. But as I came back down, the faint aroma of garlic and butter drifting from the kitchen made me pause mid-step.

Curiosity tugged at me. Adjusting my dupatta over my shoulder, I followed the scent.

The sight that met me in the kitchen doorway stopped me in my tracks.

Zaigham, his sleeves rolled neatly, his wristwatch set aside on the counter, stood at the stove.

The soft kitchen light traced the hard lines of his profile, sharpening the calm intensity in his brow. He moved with such fluid confidence.

He cooks?

I leaned against the doorway, my heart beating strangely fast as I just... watched him. I had never seen him like this.

Finally, I found my voice. "Do you... actually know how to cook?"

His head turned slightly, his dark eyes glancing at me over his shoulder. That small, deliberate smile curved his lips, a smile that always left me a little unsteady. "Does that surprise you, Zoya?"

I stepped inside slowly, unable to look away. "A little," I admitted, softly. "I mean... I didn't know my husband was a cook as well."

He chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head as he stirred the sauce. "Your husband is many things you haven't discovered yet." His voice dipped, smooth and quiet, carrying something that lingered between a secret and a promise. "And I intend to let you find them all, one by one."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I quickly pulled out a chair at the island counter and sat down, pretending to busy myself. "You say things like that on purpose, don't you?"

"Only," he said, smirking as he turned off the flame and plated the dish, "when I like the way you blush."

The creamy chicken pasta, was set before me. The smell alone was intoxicating, his gaze never leaving mine.

I stared at the plate, then back up at him. "Zaigham..."

He leaned closer on the counter, his hand resting so near mine that the warmth of his skin reached me. His eyes were steady, unreadable, yet there was something burning quietly in them.

"I told you, Zoya. These seven days are yours. Every moment, every detail. I don't want you to remember them as ordinary." His voice dropped, softer, heavier. "I want you to remember them as the days when your husband gave you all of himself."

The words rooted me in place. My lips parted, but sound betrayed me.

"You're making it very hard not to fall for you, Zaigham," I whispered, almost ashamed of how easily the confession slipped out.

His expression shifted, something softened, but the intensity sharpened. He reached forward, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips grazing my cheek with a tenderness that sent my breath faltering. "Then don't resist, Zoya. Don't hold yourself back."

My throat tightened. "And if I do?"

His lips curved in a smile, but a vow disguised in quiet mischief. "Then I'll spend every one of these seven days proving to you why you can't."

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the distant hush of the sea outside and the quick thud of my heart.

Finally, he pulled a chair beside me, his knee brushing mine under the table. He picked up the fork, twirling pasta around it, then held it before my lips with a teasing tilt of his head. "Taste it."

I tried to glare at him, but the affection and playfulness in his eyes softened me too quickly.

Slowly, almost shyly, I leaned forward and took the bite.

The flavors melted over my tongue, rich, creamy, perfect.

Just like everything about this man who kept unraveling me in ways I hadn't thought possible.

I couldn't stop the smile that curved my lips. "It's... really good."

Zaigham leaned back slightly, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Good." A pause, deliberate, heavy. "Then remember this. Because I plan to cook for you every night we're here."

I laughed softly, shaking my head, but my heart was already his captive.

I looked down at the pasta, playing with the fork, my voice dropping almost to a whisper. "And when these days are over...?"

He stilled, his gaze fixed on me. "Do you think I'm the kind of man who gives something... then takes it back?" His tone was calm, but it carried weight.

My eyes lifted to his. "I don't know what kind of man you are sometimes," I admitted, my chest tight. "You keep surprising me."

He leaned closer, resting his elbow on the table, chin tilted slightly. "Well, I like keeping you off balance." A faint smirk curved his lips. "That way you can't run too far before I catch you."

I blinked at him, my breath catching at the sheer certainty in his voice. "Catch me?" I echoed, a little breathless.

"Yes," he said simply. "Even if you try to escape me in your thoughts, even if you try to guard your heart, you'll find me there before you. Always."

"You sound so sure of yourself," I whispered.

"I don't need to be sure of myself, Zoya." His eyes burned into mine. "I'm sure of you."

My throat tightened. I wanted to say something, anything, but words seemed to scatter before they reached my lips.

Seeing my silence, his thumb brushed the back of my hand, his voice lowering, softer but heavier. "One day, you'll stop questioning how this happened, and you'll start wondering how you ever lived without it."

For a long moment, I could only stare at him, feeling my heart stumble into a rhythm that wasn't mine anymore, it was his, always his.

Finally, he leaned back, breaking the intensity with a casual flick of the fork, twirling pasta again and holding it out to me with mock patience. "Now eat before it gets cold. I didn't spend the last half hour making this to watch you starve."

I laughed softly, still shaken but helpless against the affection that slipped through his sharpness. Taking the bite, I smiled at him. "Maybe... I could get used to this."

His lips curved, eyes never leaving mine. "Not maybe, Zoya. You will."

The night was steeped in silence... only the sound of waves crashing against the shore echoed softly in the distance.

We were sitting together in the balcony, wrapped in a single blanket, two mugs of coffee warming our hands.

My arm rested around her shoulders, pulling her close.

She was looking up at the sky, her eyes wide with wonder, while I. .. I couldn't look anywhere but at her.

The moonlight kissed her face, painting her features in silver. Her hair danced with the breeze, brushing against her cheeks. And without realizing it, I found myself smiling from watching her breathe.

"You like the stars, don't you?" I asked in a low voice, my eyes fixed on her.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though her gaze stayed on the sky. "Yes... very much. They enchant me. They sparkle like little pearls scattered across a velvet cloth."

"Hmm," I sipped my coffee as I hummed softly.

Her head tilted toward me suddenly, those big eyes catching me off-guard. "Can I ask you something, Zaigham?" she said, voice small but insistent.

"Always," I replied, turning to her fully.

Her eyes flickered with hesitation before the question broke free. "Zaigham... you didn't like me when we first got married, did you? I wasn't... your type, was I?"

For a heartbeat, I froze. I knew, deep down, this question would come one day. And now that it had, it pierced through me. I set my mug down and cupped her face in both hands, forcing her to meet my eyes.

"Not liking you... that wouldn't be the truth, Zoya," I said slowly.

"The truth is, I didn't like anything.

I didn't like noise, or emotions, or feelings.

I thought of them as distractions. Pointless.

Like chapters from books written for the weak.

I didn't even want marriage, not just with you but with anyone. "

Her lashes fluttered, her lips parting slightly.

"But then something happened... something I can't explain.

Slowly, everything about you stopped being a disturbance.

And instead, everything about you became my habit.

Your laughter. Your mischief. Your sarcasm.

Your innocence. These eyes of yours..." I touched her cheekbone with my thumb, voice breaking into a whisper, "I don't even know when I started being pulled toward you. "

Her breath caught, and I saw the memory flicker in her eyes when I said it.

"There came a moment," I continued, my voice heavier, "when your smile vanished, when your laughter was gone.

And Zoya..." I swallowed hard, "I thought I could live without noise, without emotions, but the silence of your absence nearly destroyed me.

My ears ached for your laughter. My heart became restless for your mischief.

I... I lost myself trying to bring your smile back.

And somewhere in that struggle, my emotions grew deeper, stronger, unstoppable. "

Tears glistened in her eyes, spilling one by one, and I wiped them gently with my thumb.

"I used to think emotions were exaggerated, something only books romanticized. Until I lived them. Until it was real. And now they have trapped me completely. The silence that once gave me peace now suffocates me when you're not smiling in it."

Her lips trembled as more tears fell, but she was still staring at me, as if carving my words into her soul.

Her tears slipped free, and I caught them with my thumb, shaking my head softly. "Don't cry, Zoya. You were always too much... more than I ever deserved."

Her lips trembled as more tears fell. "And yet... I always thought you were so far, so untouchable... like you'd never let me close."

I leaned in, my forehead resting against hers. "I was fighting myself. Not you. I was too blind to see that the only peace I had left in this world was you."

I drew in a shaky breath, my forehead resting against hers. "I... I have fallen in love with you, Zoya."

Her eyes widened, her tears blurring. Silence stretched between us like a fragile thread, but I couldn't stop, I wouldn't stop.

Not tonight.

"I have fallen in love with your laughter, with your stubbornness, with your innocent heart.

With the way you care so recklessly for everyone.

With your maddening habit of talking too much.

With your tears, with your silences, with your small gestures.

With your flaws and your strengths. I have fallen in love with all of you, completely, recklessly, helplessly. "

Her chest rising and falling. My hand caught each tear as if I could erase every pain she'd ever felt.

"And then, all at once..." my voice cracked as I said it, "I realized I don't know how to exist without you anymore. I don't even want to. Zoya, I love you. I love you so much it terrifies me."

Her hand rose shakily to cover her mouth as she looked at me, eyes shining with unbearable love.

"Zaigham..." she choked, her voice breaking, "you don't know what you've just done to me.

I—" She broke off, sobbing, then whispered through her tears, "I love you too.

More than I ever thought I could. More than words will ever be enough to say. "

Her sob came out soft, trembling, as she leaned into my touch and whispered brokenly, "I love you too.

.. I love you so much. I thought it was only me, Zaigham, I thought.

.." She took a deep breath, her forehead pressing against mine, her tears warm on my skin.

"Oh my— Zaigham, I love you too. I thought you were an emotionless person, with a stone heart. "

I chuckled faintly at her honesty, and she continued, her hand coming up to rest gently on my cheek.

"But no... you have a heart of gold. You held me in my weakest days.

You walked with me through every situation.

You never once let go of my hand. You healed me, Zaigham, when I was so broken.

You became my pillar. You never let me wither.

Your care, your affection, your love, held me through it all. "

Her words pierced me deeply, and I just listened as her voice shook with truth.

"Yes, we had a little trouble adjusting in the beginning," she whispered, her eyes shining, "but eventually... you became my peace. My comfort. My safe place. My everything... Zaigham, I love you so much."

I wiped her tears slowly, my heart swelling to a point I didn't think it could hold anymore. We both drowned in each other's eyes. My gaze reflected every ounce of love I had for her, and her eyes... they mirrored the same, maybe even more.

The moon's shadow stretched between us, making the moment heavier, almost unbearable in its beauty.

Unable to resist, I reached out and pulled her onto my lap, her legs falling on either side of my torso. She gasped softly, then smiled as her hands came up to caress my face with a tenderness that left me undone.

"I will never let you feel alone again, Zoya," I said firmly, my voice low but steady. "I will love you with every fibre of my being, until my very last breath."

She smiled through her tears, her thumb brushing my jaw. "And I will always return your love, Zaigham. I will give back every emotion, every bit of your care, with more love than you can imagine."

Her words tore a smile out of me, one I couldn't stop even if I tried. Slowly, I leaned in, closing the space between us. My lips captured hers in a slow, aching kiss, pouring into it everything I felt...love, devotion, the fear of losing her, the promise of never letting her go.

The kiss wasn't rushed. It was gentle, unhurried, filled with everything we had kept inside for too long. A kiss that spoke more than words ever could.

When she finally broke the kiss, her lips still brushing mine as she smiled widely, I cupped her face again, my thumb caressing her cheekbone. Her eyes flickered with something, hesitation.

She wanted to say something but seemed unsure.

"What is it, Zoya?" I whispered against her lips.

Her fingers fidgeted slightly on my chest before she met my eyes again. Her voice was soft, almost childlike. "Zaigham... what if one day... you stop feeling like this? What if you... get tired of me?"

My heart clenched painfully at her words. I shook my head immediately, holding her tighter on my lap, my forehead pressing against hers again.

"Zoya..." I whispered, my voice rough with emotion. "I can never get tired of you."

Her lips trembled, her eyes filling again.

"You are my breath."I breathed out.

"You are the answer to my prayers."

"And you are the reason for my life... without you, I can't even imagine living."

Tears spilled down her cheeks again, and I kissed them away one by one.

"Don't ever doubt this again, Zoya," I said with quiet intensity. "If you could see yourself through my eyes, you'd never question your worth to me."

She clutched my shirt tightly, hiding her face in my neck as she whispered, "Promise me, Zaigham... promise me you'll never let go."

I closed my eyes, holding her as tightly as I could. "I promise, Zoya. Till my last breath. Even after that..., it will still be you. Always."

Her sob broke into a shaky laugh against my skin. "You... you say things that ruin me completely."

I pulled her into my arms then, the blanket wrapping tighter around us, her tears soaking into my shirt. I kissed her temple, her hair, whispering against her skin, "Mine... always mine."

After some time, she pulled away from my hug. Her teeth caught her lower lip nervously, her gaze dropping to her lap. I reached out gently, pulling her lip free from her teeth with my thumb.

"Don't do that," I whispered, my eyes holding hers.

She looked at me again, hesitation swimming in her gaze. And then, in the smallest, trembling voice, she spoke words that made my breath falter.

"Zaigham... I'm ready to take the step we have been waiting for."

Her words came out fragile, but certain, her cheeks flushed as she lowered her gaze.

I understood instantly. Her meaning was clear, even without her finishing the sentence. For a long moment, I just watched her, the way her hands twisted in her lap.

Zoya's POV

A flicker of many emotions passed through his grey eyes as I said those words.

I don't even know where the courage came from, but ever since our marriage, he has waited for me, patient, unhurried, never once demanding.

And now... with every day that passed, I felt our bond deepening. I wanted to take the next step.

I wanted to be his, completely.

He cupped my face, gently tilting it back to meet his eyes.

"Are you sure?" His voice was low, unsteady despite the calm he tried to keep. "I don't want you to feel rushed. I can wait if you're not ready."

And in that moment, there was no doubt in me. "I have never been so sure in my life, Zaigham. I trust you," I whispered.

Something in him shifted when I said that. His smile... so rare, so gentle, as if my words had undone every wall he had ever built.

Then his lips found mine again, and the kiss was different this time, deeper, lingering, filled with emotions I couldn't even name.

Before I knew it, his arm slid around my waist, strong and unyielding, pulling me against him as if he couldn't let me go anymore. My breath caught when he lifted me effortlessly into his arms.

My heart pounded against my ribs, but I held onto him, my hands clutching his shoulders, We did not break the kiss as he walked us into the bedroom.

The silence wasn't empty, it was heavy, charged, filled with the weight of everything about to change.

He set me down on the bed with a gentleness that made my eyes sting.

His touch was never hurried, never demanding.

He brushed his hand across my cheek, his thumb lingering there as his gaze locked with mine, asking me once more, wordlessly, if I was still sure.

I nodded, breathless.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, his whisper brushing against my lips. "Tonight, I want you to feel how much I love you."

His hands slid to mine, our fingers locking together as he kissed me again, slower this time, but deeper, as though he had been waiting his whole life for this moment.

The first rays of sunlight crept through the curtains, spilling across the room in a golden haze. The night had slipped away, leaving behind a silence so delicate it felt sacred. The only sound was the steady rhythm of two heartbeats, tangled in the same breath.

Zaigham stirred first. His eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the light, and the first thing he saw was her. Her head rested on his chest, her hair fanned across him like silk. His arm was still wrapped firmly around her waist, holding her as though even in sleep he refused to let her go.

For a moment, he didn't move. He just lay there, watching her. The rise and fall of her shoulders. The way her lips parted slightly as she breathed. The faint crease between her brows that always appeared when she dreamed.

He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her face, careful not to wake her, his fingers lingering just a little too long.

But she stirred anyway. A soft sound left her lips as her lashes fluttered, and slowly, she opened her eyes.

Zoya blinked at the light before her gaze landed on him.

For a heartbeat, she didn't say anything, just stared at him, at the closeness between them, at his arm still anchoring her to him.

Her cheeks warmed with a soft blush as the memory of the night returned, but instead of pulling away, she sank closer into his chest.

"Good morning," her voice was a whisper.

Zaigham's lips curved into the faintest smile, rare, quiet, but unguarded. "Morning." His voice was low, deep, carrying a softness.

She bit her lip, then stopped herself when his gaze dropped knowingly to the gesture. A blush colored her cheeks. "You're staring," she murmured, her fingers nervously fidgeting with each other.

"I have every reason to," he replied without hesitation. His thumb traced lazy circles against her waist, firm but tender. "Do you know how rare it is for me to wake up like this?"

Her eyes lifted to his, wide, curious. "Like this?"

"With you in my arms," he said simply, as though it was the most obvious truth.

Her breath caught. She didn't know what to say, so she hid her face against his chest, making him chuckle softly, a sound so unfamiliar, it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Zoya," he murmured softly, his voice low and husky from sleep. His thumb traced slow circles against my bare shoulder, grounding me back in the present. "Are you okay?"

I tilted my head slightly, meeting his grey eyes. They were softer than I'd ever seen them, searching me as if the answer mattered more than anything.

For a moment, I couldn't speak. My throat tightened with emotions I couldn't name. Then I managed a small nod, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes... I'm."

"Zoya," he murmured suddenly, his voice low and steady, "you know you blush far too easily."

My head snapped up, eyes widening. "I do not," I protested quickly, though the warmth already blooming across my cheeks betrayed me.

The corner of his mouth lifted—the rarest flicker of amusement. "You're proving my point right now."

"Zaigham..." I groaned softly, burying my face against his chest, wishing I could vanish inside him. But instead, his quiet chuckle rumbled through me, making my heart stumble.

"You make it too easy," he teased, his breath brushing the crown of my head. "One glance, one word, and your whole face betrays you."

I peeked up at him, flustered and uncertain. "You can't possibly know everything I'm thinking."

His grey eyes caught mine, sharp, discerning. When his knuckles brushed along my cheek, I felt as though he could see straight into me. "Zoya," he said gently, "you're the easiest book I've ever read... and I have no intention of putting it down."

My breath faltered. His words unlocked something I wasn't ready to face, and the storm they stirred inside me felt far too big to contain. He tilted his head, watching me intently, as though he already knew.

"You're teasing me," I whispered, but the firmness I aimed for slipped away.

"Am I?" His tone was low, deliberate, his mouth curving faintly. "Or is it that you like it when I do?"

Heat surged up my neck and I quickly averted my gaze, desperate for escape, but he didn't let me. His hand slid to the back of my head, guiding me gently until he leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead.

The gesture was simple, yet it carried the weight of an unspoken vow. My fingers tightened in his shirt, my chest tightening with emotions I couldn't put into words.

"Hopeless," he murmured, half-teasing, half-claiming. "That's what you are when it comes to me."

I tried to sit up, but his arm around my waist tightened instinctively, keeping me anchored against him.

"Going somewhere?"

I swallowed, forcing a tiny laugh. "It's morning. I should... get up."

"Should you?" His eyes bored into mine playfully.

"Because I don't see why you need to move at all."

My heart stumbled. "Zaigham..." I whispered, glancing away, embarrassed by how much I wanted to stay.

But with his gaze fixed so firmly on me, I gathered just enough courage to move again.

Slowly, carefully, I slipped out of his hold, my bare feet touching the cold floor as I reached for the shawl draped on the chair.

I could feel his eyes on me. Watching. Intently until I finally turned.

"What?" I asked, trying for casual, though my voice betrayed me.

His lips curved the faintest bit, head resting lazily against the pillow. "You look different today."

"Different how?" I frowned, clutching the shawl around me tighter.

"Less guarded," he said simply, his voice smooth, unhurried. "More... mine."

I shook my head quickly, unable to find a reply. My fingers fussed with the shawl's edge, my pulse racing faster than it had last night.

I turned away before my face betrayed me again. Because if I stayed under that gaze any longer, I was afraid I'd never look away.

I had barely managed to slip into the washroom and splash cold water on my heated face when I turned toward the mirror, my reflection startled me. My hair was messy, my lips slightly swollen, my cheeks flushed with color that hadn't faded since I'd opened my eyes. I looked, different.

And I knew he saw that difference too.

I stepped out towel in hand, my hair still damp. I sat near the dresser, carefully drying the ends, pretending to be occupied as he went in to freshen up.

After some time the sound of the bathroom door opening drew my attention.

Zaigham walked out, steam curling behind him, water still clinging to his hair as it dripped along his temples. Wearing grey sweatpants, but his shirt... he hadn't bothered with one.

My breath lodged somewhere in my throat.

Broad shoulders, lean muscle, the ridges of his chest tapering down to his abs, my eyes betrayed me before I could stop them.

I stared. Shamelessly.

Until his voice snapped me out of it.

"Zoya," he said, that rare smirk tugging at his lips. "You'll burn a hole right through me with that look."

My face flamed instantly. "I—I wasn't—" I stammered, drying my hair.

He tilted his head, enjoying every bit of my fluster. "No?" His gaze swept over me slowly, deliberate. "Because it seemed like you were counting."

"Counting?" My voice squeaked.

"The lines," he said smoothly, tapping a finger against his abdomen. "One... two... three..."

"Zaigham!" I buried my face in the towel, mortified.

His low chuckle filled the room as he shook his head, turning toward the wardrobe. I tried to breathe again, but the moment he turned his back to me, the air rushed right back out.

Dark marks trailing across his skin, streaks and bruises along his back. Last night's chaos etched into his flesh.

My hands trembled. I hadn't realized. I hadn't thought—

Before I knew it, I was on my feet, moving toward him.

"Zaigham..." My voice wavered. He half-turned, brows furrowed in quiet question, but I was already reaching out. My fingers brushed his bruised back, feather-light, as if afraid to hurt him again.

His body went still.

Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. "I'm sorry..." I whispered, my throat tight. "I hurt you."

He turned fully now, confusion laced with that piercing calm. "Zoya... why are you apologizing?"

"Because..." My voice broke as I traced one faint bruise with trembling fingertips. "Because I did this to you. I—"

He exhaled, a low sigh that held no anger. With one swift motion, he caught my wrist, pulling me around to face him. His eyes, steady and unreadable, softened just enough to quiet my panic.

"It's nothing," he said firmly. "Bruises fade."

"But still—"

"Zoya, these aren't wounds to regret. They're only fleeting shadows on my skin. Don't see them as hurt to me, they're quiet reminders of a night I would never trade for anything."

"I—"

He cut me off by tugging me closer, my palms pressed flat against his chest. His voice dropped, smooth and unyielding.

My eyes blurred, but his thumb brushed the tears away before they could fall.

"It's okay," he murmured, holding me against him. "You don't have to be sorry for being mine."

I smiled against his chest.

To be Continued....

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, writing this chapter had me blushing the whole time ??

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