Zeenat 

Добро пожаловать, моя любимая Рафият. Моё сердце жаждало этого мгновения с тех пор, как ты была ещё ребёнком, — безмолвной молитвой, прошептанной на ветрах судьбы. Ныне, милостью Аллаха, ты — моя жена, моё всё. Моя жизнь принадлежит тебе, моя Джаан.

*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.*

Аян Сиддики

Аян Сиддики

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