It was dark outside, her eyes almost closing as she tried to keep herself awake. Maheen looked at the room, at the walls and the swing outside. It was moving on its own. She covered her face with the blanket, but she could hear the rustling of leaves, the howling of wolves, and then the roar of a lion. Her eyes widened, and her hands trembled as she eyed the door, her eyes squinting.

Abdullah's mother had gone to sleep soon after dinner, the house was old and the upper floor was empty but for some reason she could hear the creaking footsteps from upstairs. She was being paranoid, but Maheen was scared of darkness. The light was gone, and she didn't know where to get the candles from.

She started reciting the darudh when she heard the creaking of the main door and footsteps approaching the room. She slipped down the bed and decided to roll under it. Then she remembered there was a lock on the door. She dashed towards it. Midway, the door flew open, and she collided into someone, making her scream in fright.

Abdullah covered her mouth, "Sh sh Ammi sorahi hai."

That's when she sighed in relief and backed away.

"Tum aise bhaag kar kyun aayi?" He asked her, and she didn't reply. Walking back to the bed, it was dark, but she wasn't scared anymore. Abdullah went towards the cupboard and started removing his shirt. It was dark, but she could still see the silhouette.

The lights came back, and her eyes went to him. In the darkness, she didn't see, but his shirt was soaked in blood.

"Abdullah ye.. ye kya hua?" Her eyes looked for any chance of injury as she walked towards him and removed his shirt, but she saw none. This terrified her more. She started backing away.

She looked at her fingers that were stained with the blood, "Blood... blood, "she whispered, dazed, her eyes flashing between him and her fingers.

"Who did you kill?" He removed the shirt and tried to advance towards her, "Maheen... "

"Aaj kisko maara," it had started irking his ear, her mistrust in him, the way she was so quick to form a bad impression of him.

"Maheen tum sojao kal baat karenge."

She shook her head, her eyes glaring at him as she held her ground, "Nahi abhi baat hogi, kiska khoon hai?"

"Maheen!"

"Kya Maheen Maheen... meri baat ka jawab do. Abdullah, you aren't like I remember, Ammi told me you were kind, but.."

She passed by him when he finally spoke, "Mere patient ka khoon tha ye," Maheen paused, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed Abdullah's words. "Your patient's blood?" she echoed, her voice shaky. The realization dawned on her, and she felt a mix of relief and guilt flood over her.

She couldn't speak to him, so she guiltily went back to the bed and laid on her side. A few minutes passed, and she heard him laying down.

"Will you cry if I say goodnight?" he teased, a hint of warmth in his voice.

Maheen turned to face him, their eyes locking in a moment of raw vulnerability. Abdullah's chuckle was a soft sound in the quiet room. "You're already crying," he observed, his hand gentle as it brushed away her tear.

His fingers lingered on her cheek, the teary eyes speaking to him for the first time, "Maheen, I care for you. From the moment I first saw you, when you had just one hair on your head, "he laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You grew inside my heart. Your memories grew with me. Whenever I think of my childhood, I can only remember you."

Maheen's heart swelled with emotion as Abdullah spoke, his words penetrating the walls she had built around herself. She gazed into his eyes, seeing sincerity and affection reflected back at her. "Abdullah," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

He reached out, gently intertwining his fingers with hers. "I know I've changed," he admitted, his tone soft. "Life has a way of shaping us, sometimes in ways we never expected."

Tears welled up in Maheen's eyes, but this time, they were tears of understanding and acceptance. "You know would wait for hours, I had written so many letters to you, but you never responded," she confessed, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "I wanted you to help me escape from this village..."

"You returned, that day when I saw you, I thought you would help us, I thought you would save us like you did all the time in our childhood. But... you let them kill him Abdullah, why?"

"I wanted to protect you. Maheen, these are our traditions. If you fight against them, you will be killed, "his hand touched where she had a bruise from his slap, "I respect you, and I care for you. Please let it be that way. Stop fighting and rebelling."

She swatted away his hand and gave him a bitter smile, "If one day these traditions ask to kill me, will you kill me?"

She wanted him to answer, but he didn't speak. Her nerves grew. She was a simple 'No' from his side. But his answer broke her heart, "Yes, traditions come first for me."

Maheen felt a deep hurt at Abdullah's words. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she was struggling to speak because of the pain. The look in her eyes became cold, showing the deep sadness she felt inside.

Her breathing was fast and uneven as she tried to deal with her strong emotions. Her eyes, which were bright, now looked empty and lost. Her smile bitter, hiding the confusion and chaos she felt.

Turning her back to Abdullah, she felt overwhelmed by everything that was happening. She hugged herself tightly, looking for comfort in being alone.

Abdullah wasn't the person she knew as a kid.

___

A few hours later she was woken up, to get ready for the valimah. Fatimah was excited as she showed her the jewelleries and her wedding attire. It was a pink sharara, ...embellished with intricate gold embroidery that shimmered under the soft light of the room. The sharara pants were adorned with delicate sequins and beads, forming floral and geometric patterns along the hem, which gracefully flared out with every movement. The kurti was equally magnificent, with a sheer neckline and sleeves that allowed the glint of gold to peek through. Completing the ensemble was a lightweight dupatta, edged with a fine gold border, cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of pink silk.

Fatimah brought out her makeup set, it was kajal, glossy pink lipsticks and eyeshadows.

"Maheen tum khaana khaalo pehle phir makeup krte, aur tumhe mehendi lagati hu", Maheen smiled at her, it was her valimah but she didn't feel any excitement. There was dread, she listened to the chirping of birds trying to forget last night. But his words haunted her every second.

Yes, Traditions come first for me...

It hurt her. The thought that he would sacrifice her for this village's tradition made her sad.

Why was I hoping for him to say 'no'?

Why would he say no? She was being too hopeful, having too much trust in him. Expecting too much, he could kill her one day if the situation forced him to.

She wanted to scream out her frustration, but then realised she was tormenting herself. She wanted to die anyway... so what if he killed her? It shouldn't matter, going to the washroom she washed her face and looked into her eyes in the mirror. The fire was gone from her eyes, those eyes wanted to live again, they were scared to die.

'Coward'

"Afshan gave up his life for you", she whispered to herself, "He should have lived... you were supposed to die. Maheen you are being selfish. This life isn't yours to live."

She was hitting her head, trying to knock some sense into it, "Abdullah isn't on your side. He isn't your ally".

The realization dawned on her; hope was a dangerous thing. It was time to stop dreaming, to stop expecting. But as she prepared to face the crowd, a spark ignited within her. Perhaps it was defiance, perhaps madness, but she would not go gently into the night.

She would wear the sharara, she would dance to the tunes of the valimah, "Let them see what they want," she thought.

As Maheen stepped out of the washroom, her steps were measured, her eyes cold. She was a vision of beauty and grace, but beneath the surface, a rebellion was brewing. Today, she would smile, but it would be a smile that hid a thousand secrets, a smile that whispered of a storm to come. A smile that would destroy everything.

"I will never trust you, Abdullah. Because you are worth nothing", he had betrayed her third time, if he could watch Afshan getting killed, if he could slap her, then he could kill her too.

Fatimah asked her to wear her night clothes so she could apply heena to her hands, she started telling her about their relatives. Maheen quietly listened, "Beta tum itna baat nahi karti. Bachpan m mujhe yaad h purey waqt kuch toh bolti rehti thi".

She couldn't force herself to smile, because Maheen was controlling her emotions. She simply nodded her head, "Ab badi hogayi huna".

"Haan, aur behadd haseen", she didn't say anything in response to the compliment and Fatimah didn't mind. She kept talking while making beautiful designs on her hand.

"Naam kaha likhu?"

Maheen pointed to the end and Fatimah smiled, "Haan ye behtar hoga".

She wrote his name in urdu, and sighed.

"Bas iska rang accha aajaye, Maheen sek lelena ek baar".

With that she left the room and Maheen looked at his name on her hand, she wiped it away. She didn't accept him as her husband, she didn't want him.

Abdullah entered the room and saw her sitting on the bed with her hand streched, he sat down and took Maheen's hand in his, a subtle spark ignited between them, the angst from last night coming to life, an undercurrent of tension pulsating beneath the surface. His touch lingered longer than necessary. Maheen's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she met his intense gaze.

"Where's the design?" His voice was low, a husky tone betraying the irritation that simmered beneath.

Maheen felt a flush of heat spread across her cheeks, her pulse quickening at the proximity of their bodies. "I wiped it away," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I won't wear your name on my hand."

Abdullah's eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "Always so defiant, Maheen," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of something she couldn't quite place. Was he mocking her again?

"Is there anything you won't rebel against?"

She drew in a deep breath, her eyes locking onto his, "I won't accept a husband who values tradition over my life."

Their eyes locked as Abdulllah sighed.

"You talk as if I have a choice in this matter," Abdullah countered, his voice tinged with frustration. "Do you think I enjoy being bound by these traditions?"

Maheen felt her resolve waver in the face of his proximity, her breath hitching as she struggled to maintain her composure. "I don't care about your excuses, Abdullah," she retorted, her voice trembling to keep her cool. "And I don't care about you... keep in mind if you hurt me, I will hurt you too".

If you try to kill me, I would kill you.

Her brown eyes glared at his hazel, which appeared green in the morning sun, his gaze wasn't hostile, but Maheen could see his guards were up. He didn't doubt her words. His jaw was clenched as he brought out an anklet from his pocket and placed her leg on his leg. His hands trembled slightly as he fastened the anklet around her ankle. The touch was intimate, and she felt a rush of warmth despite the chill in the air. His jaw remained clenched, the muscles taut, as if he were holding back a torrent of emotions.

There was a heavy silence between them, the weight of unspoken tension hanging in the air. Maheen's resolve remained unyielding, her defiance palpable.Abdullah sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "You're impossible, Maheen. You always have been."

___

I want Maheen's dress so bad😩