As night descended on the Khan Mansion that night, it brought with it an unexpected darkness as the lights went out, plunging Meerab's room into a haunting landscape of uncertain shadows and unfamiliar silhouettes. An unexpected wave of dread swept over her, as the cheerful murmur of her own heart echoed eerily in the hollow darkness.

In the midst of the suffocating obscurity, Meerab found herself yearning for the comforting company of Maryam and Rumi, who she had impulsively kicked out earlier. Their teasing had been a tad too much, overwhelming her senses and pushing her to crave solitude, but now, their absence created a cavernous void around her in the dark.

Her pulse quickened, beating a frantic tempo in her chest as the darkness enveloped her, fuelling her latent fear of the dark. The irrational yet overpowering fear seemed to loom around her, seeping into the corners of the room, stubbornly refusing to dissipate, as if it were an uninvited guest refusing to leave her in peace.

In the midst of her mounting anxiety, the sudden creaking of her door sent her heart leaping into her throat. A surprised gasp slipped past her lips, reverberating in the silent expanse of the room. But before the shroud of panic could tighten its grip on her, a soothing masculine hush echoed through the room. It was a sound intimately familiar, a calming balm to her rapidly beating heart, a beacon of comfort in the engulfing darkness.

Murtasim's silhouette materialized in the doorway, his entrance as discreet as the whisper of the wind, transforming the formerly haunting entry into a portal of solace. His flashlight cut through the darkness like a scorching ray of hope, illuminating the room in a warm glow, causing the gloom to recede, and soothing Meerab's frayed nerves. The darkness that once threatened her sanity, suddenly felt less oppressive, her fear melting away in the soft, comforting light that Murtasim brought into her life.

As the fear of the dark relinquished its cold grip on her heart, a new apprehension seeped in, subtly tinting the edges of her joy with a shadow of uncertainty. They were well aware of the repercussions if they were caught together in her room at such a late hour, the scandal it would inevitably stir. Yet, in the comforting cocoon of Murtasim's presence, the looming threat of scrutiny seemed strangely distant and insignificant.

"Your mother." Meerab whispered a warning, but the tremble in her voice spoke more of relief than admonishment.

"I don't care right now." Murtasim responded with a dismissive nonchalance, his actions underscoring his words as he secured the door behind him, locking it this time. In his hand, he held the flashlight, an artifact from their shared childhood, a beacon that had once guided her back to her room during the untimely power outages that punctuated their younger years.

A gentle hum of contentment fluttered from Meerab's chest, echoing in the quiet room as Murtasim settled onto her bed, like he used to when they were children. But this time, rather than sleeping on the opposite side of the bed, he gently drew her into his welcoming lap. His arms circled around her like a protective fortress, radiating warmth and assurance, his lips bestowing tender kisses on her forehead.

Meerab allowed her eyes to close, her breath hitching momentarily before she drew in a deep, calming breath. The scent of Murtasim's cologne wafted over her, a fragrance he consistently wore, one that had woven itself into the fabric of her memories. It was a scent that was no longer just his, but one that had subtly become a part of her identity, as recognizable and soothing as her own.

The texture of his kurta under her fingers, the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the warmth radiating from his body, the steady beat of his heart against her - all combined to offer her an unspoken assurance. The fear of the dark receded, replaced by a sense of security and comfort that only Murtasim's presence could bring.

"We'll be officially married tomorrow, and soon I'll be right beside you whenever the light goes out, there won't even be a moment of fear." Murtasim whispered into the quiet room.

His words struck a chord in Meerab's heart, filling it with a joy so deep it felt surreal. For a time, she had doubted this day would ever arrive. Now, it was almost here. She hugged him tightly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I have wanted this for so long."

"Me too." He admitted, his own voice thick with unshed tears.

She sighed deeply then, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone. "I just wish Maa Begum wasn't so intent on us not being together until the baraat and rukhsati, it's almost torture."

"She's right in a way, we'd give ourselves away." He mused, but there was a hint of regret in his voice.

Defiantly, Meerab pouted, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I don't care."

Her desire for him was a physical ache. The prospect of marrying him in a rushed nikaah without fulfilling that need was exasperating. But she knew that he would try to stick to what tradition dictated – and hopefully fail miserably – and that Maa Begum would watch them like hawks.

"We'll figure it out." He whispered, his words stoking the flame of hope in her heart, as it hinted that he might consider finding a way to bypass his mother's strict moral compass and watchful eye.

Meerab simply hummed, finding solace in the knowledge that it wasn't an outright no.

"Did you like your outfit?" Murtasim inquired, referring to the bridal ensemble he had carefully chosen for her, the one Maa Begum had shown her after she had chased him out of her room just hours ago.

She pulled away slightly, straining her eyes to see his face in the darkness. "I love it. You chose well!" She exclaimed, a genuine smile gracing her lips. And she did love it, the ivory bridal lehenga with gold and simple embroidery that felt regal.

"I can't wait to see you in it." He confessed, the anticipation clear in his voice.

"I can't wait to marry you." She replied, the sentiment echoed in her voice.

Murtasim moved then, grabbing the flashlight that lay on the bed, and shone it at her henna, where he had written his name, she had been tracing it ever since she rubbed all the henna off. The soft glow of the flashlight illuminated his face, revealing the warmth in his eyes and the love-laced smile on his lips. "Meri Meerab." He murmured, his voice ringing with affection.

"Yours." She whispered while tucking herself into him again, resting her head against his chest. Murtasim held her close, his arm draped securely around her while his free hand gently ran through her hair, tracing the soft strands with an affectionate rhythm. He pressed his lips to her forehead intermittently, each kiss an unspoken endearment, a comforting lullaby that harmonized with the quiet hum of the night.

"You know, the last time you came when the lights went out...with those candles, all I wanted was this. For you to stay." Meerab confessed, her voice a gentle whisper in the quiet room, along with the fear that he would leave again.

"I wanted to stay." Murtasim replied. His voice was low, a gentle rumble that vibrated against her cheek, the soothing rhythm of his words syncing with the steady thrum of his heart.

"Stay tonight, then." She suggested, her whisper barely audible amidst the blanket of silence that enveloped the room. Her plea hung heavy in the air, a desperate yearning that eclipsed the darkness. Her fingers curled tightly into his black kurta, the material wrinkling under her firm grip, she didn't know what it was, but she didn't want him to leave his arms then.

"Murtasim." She repeated, desperation tinting her voice when he didn't respond. "Please."

His hesitation was palpable, the silence stretching between them as he considered the consequences of acquiescence. But with a resigned sigh, he yielded, surrendering not just to her plea, but to the torrent of emotions that seemed to surge between them, unseen yet profoundly tangible. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer until their bodies melded together. They shifted from their seated position, Murtasim laying back with Meerab draped over him, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, her ear pressed to his chest. His steady heartbeat echoed in her ear, a rhythmic lullaby that filled her with a sense of tranquility.

Murtasim's fingers began toying with the ring he'd given her, tracing the band and the precious gem with an almost reverent touch, Meerab closed her eyes, allowing herself to be lulled into a peaceful stupor by the rhythm of his heart, the sound of his breathing, and the comfort of his arms wrapped securely around her.

His fingers drew an unhurried path through the silky waves of her hair. Each stroke was punctuated by the gentle press of his lips against her forehead, an affectionate gesture that warmed her from the inside out.

The realization that she was on the brink of marrying him - her Murtasim - seemed to stir a whirlpool of emotions within her. After years of yearning, of stolen glances and shared smiles, it was finally happening. Soon, they would be signing the nikaah papers, binding themselves to each other, inseparable and unbreakable. The thought filled her with a tidal wave of emotions that threatened to spill over.

"Murtasim." Meerab's voice was a barely audible whisper, threading the silence of the room with its fragile echo. Her heart was so full it brimmed over, tears welling up in her eyes, a testament to the depth of her feelings. "I love you." She confessed, her voice trembling with the magnitude of her emotions, even though he must surely have known. "So much."

Murtasim shifted, his large hand reaching out to cradle her face, his touch as warm and gentle as ever, pulling her up to look at him. Even in the muted glow of the flashlight, she could see the sincerity in his eyes, the deep pools reflecting back at her a universe of emotions, a mirror to her own soul. His thumb brushed away the stray tears that had spilled over, trailing a warm path down her cheeks.

His lips met hers in a slow, languid kiss that spoke of years of shared memories and a future full of promises. Murtasim's lips were warm and soft against hers, the freshly trimmed stubble lining his jaw felt rough, adding an enticing contrast to the tender touch of his mouth. His kiss was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world, his lips tracing a sensuous path over hers, stealing her breath away in a slow, burning conquest.

Meerab's heart hammered in her chest as she returned the kiss, her fingers curling into the fabric of his kurta. Her senses were flooded with the intoxicating scent of him, the sound of their mingled breaths in the quiet room, and the feeling of his lips on hers.

She melted into him, allowing him to guide her through the slow kiss. It was a tender exploration, a dance of love that left her breathless and craving for more. Her heart fluttered as she felt him deepen the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head, fingers weaving into her hair. Every nerve in her body sparked alive under his touch, his warm, familiar presence anchoring her, grounding her in the reality of this moment.

Murtasim pulled back ever so slightly, their breaths mingling in the space between them. The soft press of his lips on her forehead left her feeling cherished, precious, and deeply loved. A smile of pure contentment spread across her lips, her heart filled with a warmth that made her eyes glisten in the dim light.

He pulled back slightly, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with an endearing care. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as a lover's whisper, echoing in the quiet room. "I love you too, now and forever, meri Meerab."

The words wrapped around her heart like a soothing balm. A gentle smile graced her lips as her fingers began to trace lazy patterns over the fabric of his kurta.

"Murtasim." She began a while later, her voice a soft whisper against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I've been thinking..."

"Hmm." He hummed, the soothing rumble from his chest made her heart flutter. "About?"

"About what to call you." She confessed, a playful note creeping into her voice.

"Isn't Murtasim good enough?" He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her where she was resting her head on his chest.

"Yes, but you call me Meri Meerab." She countered, emphasizing the affectionate moniker he had for her. "I want something equally endearing to call you."

Murtasim's laughter filled the room, a deep hearty sound that sent pleasant shivers down her spine. "And what did you have in mind, meri jaan?" He asked, using another term of endearment.

"I'm not sure." She admitted, her fingers now doodling invisible patterns on his chest as she moved. "I was considering jaanu, but it sounds too Bollywood-ish. And jaan-e-man is just too long." She teased.

Murtasim chuckled, causing his chest to shake beneath her touch. "I don't think I can pull off the jaanu vibe, Meerab." He said, amusement lacing his voice.

She let out a giggle, "You're probably right." Pausing for a moment, she moved, resting her chin against his chest so she could look up at him while she spoke. "What about Meray Murtasim? Just like Meri Meerab."

She watched as he repeated the proposed nickname, "Meray Murtasim," rolling it over his tongue, his forehead creased in thought. After a moment of silent contemplation, he shook his head, a gentle laugh escaping his lips.

"I appreciate the effort, Meerab." He began, his fingers lightly stroking her arm. "But I don't think it has quite the same ring to it."

She pouted, feigning disappointment, which was quickly replaced by a grin as an idea sparked in her mind. "How about Murtu?" She suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she tried to suppress a giggle.

He snorted at that, the sound rumbling against her where she was resting against his chest. "Murtu? Really? It sounds like a pet's name." He teased, his warm laughter enveloping them.

Meerab giggled, her chest vibrating against his, unable to keep a straight face. "Okay, maybe you're right." She admitted, chuckling at the absurdity of her own suggestion.

"Honey? Babe? Baby?" She asked, but wrinkled her nose as soon as she said it, they didn't sound right.

He just chortled, apparently of the same mind.

She then took a moment, trying to suppress her bubbling laughter before suggesting, "How about dholnaa?"

The word had barely left her lips when they both broke into a fit of laughter, their bodies shaking with shared amusement.

"Dholnaa?" Murtasim snorted in between chuckles. "I feel like I've become the star of a Bollywood film."

Meerab responded with more laughter, her eyes welling up with happy tears. "Oh, come on, dilnashii, don't be a spoilsport." She teased, using another exaggerated term of endearment, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"It's almost as if I am being made fun of!" Murtasim declared with feigned indignation, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. He started tickling her sides, causing her to squirm and laugh even harder as she flayed in bed, somehow landing under him.

Between peals of laughter and stifled giggles, Meerab gasped for air, her fingers grasping onto Murtasim as he continued to tickle her.

"Bas karo, shaitaan!" She got out between peals of laughter.

To her utter surprise, he relented, the dimly lit room filling with the sound of their shared breathlessness. Murtasim propped himself on his elbow, his dark eyes watching her, the sparkle of mirth dancing in his gaze. His playful smirk told her he wasn't done with her yet.

"You called me a what now?" Murtasim quirked an eyebrow at Meerab, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His deep voice held a teasing lilt that she loved.

Giggling, Meerab echoed her earlier declaration, her hands playfully slapping his chest. "Shaitaan!" She declared again, her cheeks flushed from the laughter and his close proximity.

Cupping his face between her hands as he hovered above her, she studied him. His eyes twinkled with mischief, his tousled hair, those full lips pulled into a smirk. She couldn't help but smile at his devilishly handsome face, realizing how apt her newfound nickname for him was.

"Oh? Shaitaan, is it?" Murtasim echoed, his deep chuckle filling the room. He leaned in, his warm breath brushing against her lips, the gleam in his eyes wicked. "Then, let the shaitaan play."

With a sudden swift movement, Murtasim resumed his playful assault, his fingers darting along her sides, drawing high pitched squeals from her. The room was filled with peals of laughter and hushed whispers, as Meerab squirmed and wriggled beneath him, her fingers desperately clutching his kurta. The weight of him above her, the warm sound of his laughter, and the teasing sparkle in his eyes made her heart flutter with happiness.

When he finally relented, they both fell back onto the bed, a heap of giggling, panting mess as they lay beside each other. Meerab clung to him, her laughter subsiding into soft giggles, her heart filled with an exhilarating mix of love and joy. And in that moment, as she lay there, gasping for breath, her laughter mingling with Murtasim's, Meerab knew she wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

"Alright, alright!" Meerab waved a hand, catching her breath, turning her head to the side as she lay beside him so she could see his face. "No more, I can't laugh anymore. My stomach hurts." She pouted, even though her eyes were still twinkling with residual mirth.

Murtasim smiled at her, his chest still heaving slightly from the bout of laughter. "So, have we found a nickname then?"

She made a thoughtful face, her eyes fell on his, and her lips broke into a slow smile. "Shaitaan for just the two of us because that's what you usually are." She teased, loving the little chuckle he let out. "But how about keeping it simple...jaan?"

Murtasim looked surprised for a moment, and then his features softened into a warm smile. "Jaan, huh?" He echoed, rolling the word around his tongue.

"Jaan." Meerab nodded, smiling at him. "But let's see if it comes as naturally as shaitaan. I don't want to force it."

Murtasim gave her an affectionate squeeze. "You call me whatever you want, Meerab. As long as it's from you, it's going to be special."

"Jaan." She whispered, trying the word out. The look in Murtasim's eyes told her he liked it. She cuddled closer to him, whispering the word again into the quiet space between them. "Jaan."

The sudden return of light momentarily blinded them both, one of her lamps turning on as the electricity came back, the unexpected brightness piercing the cozy darkness they'd been wrapped in. As their eyes adjusted, Murtasim reached for her well-worn notebook lying on her bedside table, the one she filled with random thoughts and ideas, his excitement telling her that he recognized it.

"What?" Meerab questioned, confusion lacing her voice as she watched him flipping through the pages.

"Remember when you used to make us all sign contracts in this book every time we made a promise?" Murtasim's eyes twinkled with nostalgia and amusement as he traced over the old, faded signatures with his finger. The memory ignited a burst of laughter from Meerab, her heart fluttering with the recollection of her younger self. She had found the notebook tucked away in her drawer just that morning.

She had always been a stickler for promises, even as a child. The smallest of things - a promise of a candy, a trade of toys, or a pact of friendship - each required a formal contract and signature in her book. Looking back, it was perhaps a foreshadowing of the lawyer she was destined to become. She had always been meticulous about ensuring everyone kept their word, a trait that continued to define her.

She hummed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I should make you write one for our marriage, that's the biggest promise of all." She declared, an undercurrent of laughter in her voice.

Before she could react, she was being pulled up and into his lap again, a gasp escaping her as he reached for the other bedside lamp and flicked it on. The sudden burst of light painted the whole room in a soft, warm hue. A pen appeared in his hand, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Your wish is my command, meri Meerab." His voice was laced with warmth, his eyes meeting hers with a look of determination.

She blinked at him, surprised by his serious response to her playful banter. A ripple of laughter erupted from her, her fingers reaching for the pen. "I was joking...but okay!" Meerab declared, the excited flutter in her heart betraying her words. She began scribbling atop a fresh page, the ink forming letters and words. "Meerab and Murtasim's marriage contract." She pronounced, her voice filled with laughter.

With a thoughtful hum, Meerab began to write down the first clause. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she proclaimed and wrote. "We will say I love you to each other every day, even when we're mad and fighting." She wrote.

"Hmmmm, I like that one." He whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder as she wrote, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close to him in his lap.

"No silent treatment." He whispered. "I want you to scream, fight, do whatever it is that you need to do when we fight. I can't take your silence."

"Deal." She nodded, scribbling it down with a smile on her face. "Same with you."

He nodded.

She giggled as she wrote in the next one. "I will never stop my wife when she wants to buy stuff, I won't complain and rush her when we go shopping." Murtasim snickered at her declaration, his laughter echoing warmly within the room.

"Knowing you, it's going to be golgappe or something else like that." He teased.

"Too bad I'm not a gold digger, huh?" She quipped back, chuckling at her own self-deprecating humor.

Not missing a beat, Murtasim plucked the pen from her hand, adding his own clause. His handwriting was neat and precise, reflecting his thoughtfulness. "I will always tell my husband before I do something risky." Meerab glanced over his words, an approving nod gracing her lips. It was a fair expectation.

"I'll try my best." She said as she accepted the pen back, she scribbled her own agreement. "We will never lie or hide anything from each other."

He hummed and took the pen back, speaking as he wrote. "We will always love and cherish each other above all." It was a promise that echoed the commitment of their impending nikaah, a bond that would bind them together for life.

Meerab paused at the words, her brows furrowed as she contemplated a possible exception. "What about our kids?" She asked, her eyes meeting his with a curious inquiry.

In response, he simply tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer. "Their Maa will always come first." He stated, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. It was a promise of love, of prioritizing her in a way that made her heart flutter.

"When do you want to have kids?" Meerab asked, biting her lip as she awaited his response, it was a question she had thought about at times, wondering when she would have chubby little babies of her own, but not something they had ever talked about.

"Not right away." Murtasim replied. His voice was firm, a hint of determination in his tone. "I want you all to myself for a bit, just the two of us."

Meerab felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had been feeling the same, wanting to spend time with just him after being robbed of it for so many years. "I agree." She responded, her voice echoing her relief. She cleared her throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness that crept into her. "So, we'll have to think about...you know...preventing that from happening."

Murtasim chuckled, the sound reverberating by her ear, sending a shiver through her which he seemed to catch because he placed a kiss against her ear. "I thought it was pretty straightforward, although the man at the pharmacy will give me a weird smile when I ask for condoms."

A ripple of laughter escaped Meerab. She could easily imagine the pharmacist's expression. "Well, yes," she conceded, "but the two of us aren't exactly...patient when we're together."

She knew them well enough to predict that they would occasionally forget, swept up in the moment.

"Then?" He asked, his voice sounding confused.

"I'll take care of it."

"How?" Murtasim asked, his arms wrapping around her tighter, his chin moving on her shoulder a little as if he was trying to look towards her.

"Birth control shots or pills. There is also something called an IUD but my friend said it hurt like hell so—"

"You discuss these things?" Murtasim asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Meerab shrugged. Her married friend had brought it up once, sparking her curiosity. "Not often, it just came up one time."

He hummed in response, nodding thoughtfully.

"When we do have kids..." Meerab continued, her voice filled with a dreamy tone."...I want one girl and two boys."

Murtasim shook his head. "Two girls, one boy. I want little Meerabs running around."

Meerab's cheeks flushed at his words but she shot back. "Little angry Murtasims would be cuter, roaring everywhere."

Murtasim laughed heartily at that. "Let's hope our kids don't inherit our temper."

"They will, they'd be Khans after all." Meerab said, giggling as she grabbed the pen and scribbled down on their 'contract'. "We will have at least three kids."

Murtasim glanced at the new clause and chuckled. "That's not entirely up to us, Meerab."

She nodded, agreeing, "We should try for three, and if it doesn't work out, that's fine. It's about having a family, regardless of the number."

He sighed then. "I know I said I wanted to wait, and I do...but I want that so bad, a family with you." He whispered into her ear, causing tears to well up in her eyes.

"Me too." She whispered as he placed a kiss on her cheek, she passed the pen back to him, her mind a bit blank with the thoughts of a family with Murtasim. The two of them with their two sons and daughter, the haveli filled with sounds of little feet, laughter, and babbling.

Accepting the pen once more, Murtasim too seem to be stuck in his thoughts for a moment before writing, "I will always take my wife's side, even when she's wrong."

Meerab felt her eyebrow raise, not that he could see her with the way they were sitting. "Really, Murtasim? Even when I'm wrong?"

His answer was immediate. "Especially when you're wrong."

"Me too." She whispered, taking the pen back from him, changing the statement to we will always take each other's side, even when they're wrong. "In front of others, best believe we'll be fighting about it in our room."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He whispered, placing another kiss on her cheek.

She added another term to their unique contract. "We will always make time for each other, no matter how busy we get."

Murtasim nodded in agreement, a warm smile spreading across his face. "That's the best one yet." He murmured, his voice filled with affection.

Murtasim took the pen back, grinning as he scribbled his own clause. "I will make Murtasim biryani, kebabs, and kheer at least once a month."

She laughed at that. "Bhukad!"

Murtasim continued writing while he spoke. "I will always have a stash of chocolate on hand for when Meerab is upset."

Meerab hummed happily.

She took the pen from him, scribbling out another clause. "I will allow my husband to watch his cricket matches in peace." Meerab wrote, loving the way he laughed in delight. Cricket was his favorite sport, and he often teased her for her habit of interrupting during the most crucial moments, it wasn't her fault that she barely understood the game.

"We will have date nights at least twice a month." Murtasim added.

She hummed happily as she took the pen again. "We will take turns deciding what movie to watch on movie nights." Meerab quickly wrote, winking at Murtasim. This had been a long-standing dispute between them. While Meerab loved romantic comedies, Murtasim was more of an action and adventure movie buff.

"I promise to be patient when Meerab takes her time getting ready for outings," Murtasim penned, rolling his eyes at her, making her burst into giggles. "Because the end result is always worth it."

"I promise to tolerate Murtasim's snoring." Meerab scribbled, giggling at Murtasim's feigned indignation.

"I don't snore!"

"You do when you're really tired!" She defended.

He sighed. "Don't say that to maa, or she'll have my head wondering how you know."

"Your room was down the hall from mine for years, Murtasim."

"Still." He said as he took the pen again, his handwriting neat as he wrote. "I will always support Meerab in her career and dreams."

"How do you follow with that to my snoring one? I feel bad now." She whined as she moved her head so she could look back at him. His gaze was filled with sincerity, and she couldn't help but lean in and peck his lips.

She took the pen from him as she turned back, adding. "I promise to always be there for Murtasim, to comfort him in his sorrows and celebrate with him in his joys."

Murtasim hummed as he added another clause. "We will take the time to appreciate each other every day, no matter how busy we are."

She nodded before she wrote down the next one. "We will always respect and value each other's opinions, even when we disagree." She firmly believed that respect was fundamental to any relationship and wanted to ensure it was a cornerstone in their marriage too.

The playful banter and heartfelt confessions that marked their conversation spilled over onto the pages of the contract, a physical testament to the deep love they shared. The words they penned weren't just clauses but precious promises, sealed with ink and imbued with their shared laughter and joy.

The negotiation was light-hearted but filled with their unique, idiosyncratic ways of expressing their love. Amid the giggles and gentle nudges, they crafted the four pages, their handwriting filling the page with a tangible record of their bond. Their signatures at the bottom were more than just their names; they were seals of affirmation, symbols of their commitment to honor the promises they had made to each other.

As the pen finally dropped, they found themselves exhausted but joyous. Meerab snuggled against Murtasim, their giggles and whispers fading into a soothing lullaby that carried them both into a peaceful sleep, their fingers still entwined over the contract that embodied their promises to each other. The last vestiges of laughter echoed around the room, before giving way to the soft symphony of their synchronized breathing

---------------------------

A warm wave of comfort washed over Meerab as she stirred from her slumber, the first rays of dawn seeping through the curtains to cast a soft glow on her surroundings. A content sigh escaped her lips as she sank further into the warmth radiating from the figure curled around her. Murtasim's presence wrapped around her like the softest blanket, an embrace that felt as familiar as it was comforting. His arm draped protectively over her waist, anchoring her to him. His chin rested atop her head, his body pressed up against hers, a testament to their intimate entanglement.

A surge of joy unfurled within her, spreading like ripples in a pond, as the realization dawned on her. They were getting married. Today. The thought filled her heart with so much happiness it threatened to spill over.

"Murtasim." Her whisper was as soft as the morning breeze, a tender call that floated into the silence of the room. In response, he let out a gentle grumble, a whiny sound that was uniquely Murtasim. The endearing noise drew a fond smile on her face, her heart brimming with love for the man cradling her in his arms.

Making an attempt to shift her position, she nudged him gently, eliciting a sigh as his hold on her loosened just enough to let her turn. She adjusted herself, her gaze finding his, their eyes meeting in a shared glance of sleepy affection.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, sleep making them droop adorably. His hair was an utter mess, a stark contrast to the meticulously styled mane she was accustomed to. A drowsy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, rendering him irresistibly adorable in her eyes.

It struck her then, with the intensity of a summer thunderstorm, how utterly in love she was with this man. His sleepy demeanor, his affectionate warmth, his tousled hair - all of these simple, mundane details filled her with a sense of adoration.

With a contented hum, she nestled her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. It was grounding, comforting, and held the promise of home. Her to-be husband in a couple of hours, she mused, her heart somersaulting with anticipation. She turned her face into his chest, her lips curving into a soft smile that was lost in the fabric of his kurta.

She giggled as he placed a kiss atop her head, whispering, "good morning, soon-to-be Mrs. Khan."

The tranquility of the early morning was shattered as a sudden knock resonated through the room. Meerab and Murtasim jolted in surprise, their bodies colliding in their hasty movement. Her head struck his chin, drawing a groan from him. A wave of panic washed over her and she met his gaze, her hands instinctively flying to cup his face. "Sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling.

"Meerab?" The muffled voice of Maa Begum filtered through the wooden door, heightening their panic. Their eyes mirrored the fear and realization of the predicament they found themselves in. Getting caught in her room before their nikaah would undoubtedly cause a stir.

Reacting quickly, Meerab nudged Murtasim toward the balcony, her voice a sharp hiss. "The balcony!"

Murtasim looked aghast at her suggestion. "You want me to climb down?" He countered in a hushed, incredulous tone.

Nodding, she urged him on. "Your mother is not dumb, she's going to look!" There was a desperate edge to her voice. She was sure she would be shipped off to Lahore as soon as they signed the nikaah papers if he was caught.

With a resigned groan, Murtasim moved to the railing, his hands grasping the iron pipe that lined the side of the building. His black kurta pajama stuck out like a sore thumb with the early morning sun illuminating the side of the house.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" The smug voice of Arslan drifted up, stirring a fresh wave of panic in Meerab. "He looks like a daku in all black."

She peeked over the edge to see Arslan and Hamza looking up at them, their faces a picture of surprise. It seemed like they were helping set up for the nikaah, carrying baskets of flowers in their hands.

Frantically, she shot a warning at the two onlookers. "Help him down and I swear if he gets hurt or if you tell anyone, I'll murder you myself!" Her threat was hissed out fiercely, effectively silencing them as they nodded nervously.

Taking a moment, Meerab reached out to Murtasim, her hands cupping his face. "Be safe, see you at the nikaah." Her words were a soft whisper, carried away on the morning breeze. She quickly planted a kiss on his lips before darting back into the room, closing the balcony door.

The knocks on the door had grown more insistent. Rushing to the bathroom, she splashed her face with cold water, the chill helping to douse her rising panic. The flush of the toilet was a loud declaration of her supposed presence in there all along. Stepping out, she pulled the door open, revealing Maa Begum with a questioning look on her face.

"Sorry Maa Begum, I was in the bathroom." Meerab explained hastily, the sound of the filling tank echoing her statement.

Maa Begum hummed in response, her gaze scrutinizing the room, finally settling on the flashlight resting on the night table. A flicker of suspicion passed through her eyes, but she remained silent. "We have a lot to do, you're getting married today, we can't waste even a minute!" 

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A/N: Let me know what you think! I know most of y'all were likely expecting the nikaah chapter (which is next) here, but I wanted them to have a Murtasim-Meerab type of moment and sign their own little contract.