Bonus four.

Golnar pinched her palms. The soft, light peach wells of them had swollen under the affect of over use. Spasms of muscles crippled her fingers, as she stretched her limbs outward, her legs straightened underneath the thick table. Running a finger over the copper jargons on the ends of the table, she traced out the shadows of a lion's mouth carved into the corner of the table. The leg's crisscrossed like vines and held the top a few feet above air, hosting her hands underneath it as she crossed her legs one over the other. Her hand pressed between her inner thighs as she brushed her fingers over the silverware.

The yellow lights flashed on the paintings hanging opposite her. Above the long running table, that ran from one corner to the other, it's deep brassy handles were fixed into mouths of bisons, the wood polished and a light color of gold. It matched the paint on the walls. Thick gold borders over the paintings hung beneath the single fixed ceiling lights. Images of sheikhs dressed in lengthy dresses of blue and deep maroon had yellow skins — akin to the color of an onion, the imagery of painters that had lived long ago.

Golnar's feet moved into the thin sheen of air, back and forth. The thick jewel studded bangles over her wrist struck the porcelain plates as she rested her hand over the table. Pushing the crockery out of reach, her arm pressed into the slightly cold dinning table, fingers strumming the top softly she rested her cheek against the back of her hand. Thin knuckles kissed her cheeks, the blush she had spent a long time building until it was just the right shade of a dewy pink, stroked the translucent skin. Her soft lips, settled into a deft pout and her teeth gnawed at the skin inside of her mouth.

Steam rose from the dishes that had been brought out by Tanzil and Agha ji. The barred windows settled with the moon hanging just low enough to fill it's entirety in a delicious bid. It's yellowish-pallor painted the crimson carpets of the dinning room with the illusion of a thousand diamonds twinkling in the centre of a bloody universe. Lids of thick veined porcelain, with clay pots and bubbling bread covered in ghee and coriander, sat before the round, deep plates. Ladles and spoons aplenty.

Golnar blinked her eyes slowly in the direction of the glass doors lined with a thick shishem linning. The borders — atleast a few inches in width, lead to the hand painted mosaic in the centre of the glass, deep black paints lined the figurines that meshed into a muddled aura. Her veil of gold tissue, on it thick elusive sequins sprinkled along, fell over one of her shoulders and the loose coils of her hair slipped over her slender shoulder. Pressing her cheek into the back of her hand, she let her gaze wander once more to the bright screen of her cell phone.

Still no text from her father or her husband.

The two had embarked on a journey to meet with Husyan and Golmina — to congratulate them on the birth of their son, Jahangir Haakim. Golnar sighed with her mouth hanging low, regretting not having gone with them. Her heart beat softened ; it slowed until it ached inside her chest. The emptiness of the mansion and dinning room fought to ruin her. A small tear slipped out of her eye, and her finger rose just as sharply to wipe it out of way. They had texted her forty minutes ago ; Golmina had been discharged and they were headed home. Yet the mere distance of twenty minutes had been turned into an hour long journey.

Horns piped up outside and caught the attention of the almost dozing off figure. Perking up from her position, her hands fixed the veil until one end of it fell over her silken hair, a hand wrapping around the glass back of her cellphone as she stepped out into the foyer. Golnar breathed softly through her mouth as the chandelier's lights painted her pale skin, her hand brushing the walls as she held the thick bronze handle between her fingers. Letting her eyes roam over the carved horses before she pushed the door open. Light drizzle following her as she caught sight of her frail father and husband.

"Mubarak ho Golmina baji, Husyan bhai." Golnar beamed at their frames, taking a short look at the pink faced baby inside her brother-in-law's hands.
[Congratulations Golmina sister, Husyan brother.]

"Ap ko bhi khala ji." Husyan nodded, his cheeks stretching from the wide grin his face sported.
[You too miss aunt.]

"Khala nai tayi." Darab cleared his throat, wrapping his arm around Golnar's shoulders wordlessly.
[Not maternal aunt, paternal aunt.]

Humming deep inside her throat in silent agreement, a myriad of joys danced inside her warm hazel eyes. Golnar's lips settled into a wide hum of appreciation for his words as she nestled herself in his hold. With a hand pressed against his upper pectoral she offered a silent glance towards his face that had already been towards her. The waxed beard curved into a soft bow above his lips, and the thick gold earring inside his earlobe matched the one she wore in her second piercing.

"Aba ji ap andar chalein bohat thand ho gayi hai. Waisay bhi khana thanda ho chuka ho ga ab tak." Golnar said.
[Father dearest come inside it's too chilly outside. Plus dinner's probably already very cold by now.]

Reaching out to his side, an arm wrapped around his softly hunched shoulders, she fixed the loose hold of his woody shawl around his shoulder. Straightening out the collar of his kameez that had fallen out in an odd space, her fingers brushed over his sweaty forehead. The deft horizontal lines over top of them were deep enough for her to jokingly press her crescent shaped nails inside of. Pressed her lips against his cheek, Golnar inhaled his deep earthy scent that reminded her of her childhood. Sliding her hand around his fingers, she felt the sharp bones cut her soft palms as they stepped inside the home.

With Golmina leading Husayn and Golnar leading her father, Darab moved to the back of the group. His long steps cut short to match the softer ones of everyone else, the width of his shoulders crushed against his own unmapped bones, that otherwise threatened to suffocate inside the deep folds of his perfume. Sliding a hand into his pocket, he toyed with the buttons of his phone in a haphazard manner. Gently pulling them away as they sought refuge against the wrap of Golnar's gauzy veil. Holding a thin tassel that hung from one of the bordered corners. Matching the beige shade of her kameez.

Darab's stomach erupted in deep rumbles as they stepped into the dinning room.

The table set with dinner—an array of condiments and salads spruced up the color chart of the table, the burnt orange table runner covered with the dusting if uncountable dishes. In their pyrex containers. Oil glistening on top of some of them, whilst round covers covered some. Steam still oozed out of the grains of rice and the end of one roti that peaked through looked soft enough still to be chomped on for dinner.

Everyone took their designated places. Sounds of chatter fell to an almost nil, replaced instead with the charitable tunes of thick silverware clashing against equally expensive plates. Hums of delight spread across, the windows pulled open just a few inches allowed in for enough fresh, sweetly scented wind to pull through. With their inky blackness the black peppercorns found their way to the edges of the round plates, thick bones torn away from the softly pulling apart meat.

Darab tore off the naan and dipped it into the thick gravy Golnar had generously served him with. Garnished with julienned ginger and a fistful of bright green coriander. His tongue ran out, lapping against the droplets that managed to slide down his lips. Painting them in a sheen of their after affects. Covered in thick oil still, Darab held the crystal glass to his lips and wiped the end of his finger against his white sleeves. Feeling once again the softness of the expensive fabric his wife had bought for him just a week ago. It been delivered just this morning, wrapped in fine butter paper with a stamp of the designer's name.

He had never known people to be so picky. With such intricate details.

"Waah Golnar aj te khanay da maza a agay ae." Darab was the first to speak, his voice still thick from the affects of the rich gravy he had just slurped.
[Wow Golnar today the food was extraordinary.]

Tipping her head, she chewed on the grains of rice — the flavour of the pulao burst through his mouth, her head tipped to one side as she stared at him appreciatively. The apples of her cheeks turned a sodden pink as she stumbled across the familiar hue of desire course through the color of his eyes, like streaks of violent ravishing, running back and forth. Through the centre in central circles. Thanking him with her voice a gentle whisper, she scooped some rice into his plate.

The one thing he hated was to eat more than he needed to. Petty—some would say as she served him with more than he needed. Justified—Golnar argued with a satisfied hum, served him right for having ignored the n number of calls she had bombarded him with. She shrugged, sipping on her glass of coke as he stared at her and then the serving of dinner in his plate. Giggling softly inside her throat she watched him make a morsel before he pressed his fingers against his mouth and swallowed it with delight. Or at least she assumed from the way his ears turned pink at the flavour.

"Bhabhi?" Husayn cleared his throat. "Kha'na waqai mein lazat daar hai."
[Sister-in-law? The food really is scrumptious.]

"I think anyone would understand after seeing the almost inhumane way Darab eats." Golmina chimed in.

A week of motherhood—and yet still the undertones of misery and sourness inside her tone had not been let go of.

"I think it's rather endearing that he let's all falsities go whilst eating. Just shows his genuineness." Golnar countered, tired of the low blows her cousin had been dealing her all her life.

Darab—as usual, stared between the two. Trying to mark out what the words mean while simultaneously sneaking some of his food on to her plate. He blink squarely at his frowning best friend, and the light flicker of pride on his father-in-law's face.

This room—everyone inside it— they were his family. The thought warmed his heart, and he could not help but drop a short kiss over Golnar's head. Despite the setting. Family — it was the best of all gifts his wife had given him.

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The bonus after this is my favourite ever!
Anyways will post a teaser on my instagram about future characters today (ig : qanwritesalot) so do follow me on there to keep up 🤭🤭.