Asfia's gaze lingered on her husband, a man who possessed all the qualities she'd ever dreamt of: tall, handsome, and unfailingly kind-a true gentleman. Yet, beneath his perfect exterior, she sensed a profound sadness, his eyes devoid of light.
This...
"Stop staring at his chest", Asfia scolded herself silently, but her eyes refused to obey. They remained fixated, much to her frustration. She had rehearsed countless scenarios in her mind regarding their wedding night, yet her heart raced in her chest. He had halted the unbuttoning of his shirt, drawing nearer to her.
"Inhale, Asfia, exhale", she reminded herself, attempting to regain composure. He now stood right in front of her. Keeping her head lowered, she peered up at him through her lashes, finding a mischievous grin gracing his face. That cheeky grin! He playfully twirled a loose strand of her hair around his finger. She exhaled a shaky breath and finally met his gaze.
To drop a subtle hint, she pouted her lips slightly. He burst into laughter. Was he mocking her? How rude! She tried to force a stern expression but instead found herself blushing beneath his penetrating gaze.
"Aren't you tired, Asfia?" He asked her. His thumb now gently caressing her cheek. Her lips looked irresistible and he hadn't miss that subtle pout. But he wanted to do this right. He wasn't going to just do it out of attraction. And he was definitely attracted to her. All of her. He had to figure out what she wanted. He didn't now how to navigate this without blatantly telling her he could never love her. He had made a commitment to be a devoted husband, ensuring she lacked for nothing in their marriage. She now possessed a rightful claim to all of him.
He had had 2 months to figure this out and he hadn't. It was that stupid apartment that had haunted him, trapping him in his past, he thought.
"Faisal?" Asfia's voice was a soft, barely audible murmur. His thumb lingered on her cheek, their proximity suffused with the now familiar scent of his cologne and the essence of him. They were so close that she could feel his slow breaths brushing her cheek. Just a two-inch movement of her face, and their lips would meet. Why wouldn't he bridge the gap and kiss her? The anticipation was becoming unbearable, her heart lodged in her throat, and she felt the urge to take the leap and initiate that first kiss, even if it meant ruining her first kiss.
"Darling, let's just get some rest. Tomorrow is a long day with the reception and more guests," he murmured, her quivering lips, her breath against his face, and something else about her, making it increasingly difficult for him to resist the urge to pull her into a deep, all-consuming kiss.
Asfia bit her lip, this time involuntarily. Her heart was heavy with disappointment. It had seemed like the ideal moment for their first kiss, on their wedding night. She blinked rapidly as she moved back, trying to conceal her disappointment. It was hard to fathom that just a few minutes ago, she had been concerned about him wanting more than just a kiss.
In that moment, she felt him draw near once more, and she heard him murmur, "Screw it." His hands gently lifted her chin, and his lips softly brushed against hers. It was enchanting, everything she had ever imagined. One of his hands cradled her jaw while the other rested behind her head, his lips moving on hers, swallowing her consciousness. After a few moments of staying still, just enjoying his touch, she realized she was supposed to be an active participant, so she lightly sucked on his lower lip.
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