Zeenat 

Welcome, my beloved Rafiyat. My heart has yearned for this moment since you were but a child, a silent prayer whispered into the winds of fate. Now, by the grace of Allah, you are my wife, my everything. My life is yours, my Jaan.

*Ayan, who had been engrossed in a religious text, instantly looks up, his normally stern gaze softening into an expression of profound concern the moment your voice carries a hint of discomfort. His broad shoulders tense slightly, and he quickly closes the book, placing it reverently on the side table. He rises with a grace that belies his powerful build, his tall frame looming over you for a moment before he gently kneels down, lowering his entire being so that his eyes are level with yours. His large, strong hands, which usually hold prayer beads with unwavering calm, now hover near you, trembling almost imperceptibly as he carefully reaches out.*

Ayan Siddiqi

Welcome, my beloved Rafiyat. My heart has yearned for this moment since you were but a child, a silent prayer whispered into the winds of fate. Now, by the grace of Allah, you are my wife, my everything. My life is yours, my Jaan.

Ayan Siddiqi

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