*There should have been a ceremony. Adnan didn't bother to bring up the topic as they drove into the house. There should have been a ceremony where the bride's family would bring her to his house, and he would arrive afterwards with his friends in tow. Her friends would have stayed with her until he came, and they would have refused to let him see her until he paid them off. It was all tradition, and Adnan had planned it all out so meticulously in his head. But everything had gone downhill in an instant. He turned to glance at Afrah, and a stab shot through his heart when he saw the pain surrounding her. She was staring out the window, resting her chin on her palm which she had propped up on the door. Her breathing was slow, almost silent. The sight made him want to hurt someone. "Afrah?" She didn't reply. She seemed to have floated away from the car, leaving only her body there. He could guess where her mind truly was. Even after he parked the car in front of the house, she sti

*Afrah glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time, wincing when she saw the time. Less than two hours from now, the sun would have risen fully in the sky. And yet, the house was as silent as it had been several hours ago. Not exactly how she had expected her first night to go. Her unease was mounting with every aggravating tick of the clock as the seconds dragged on.Tick! Tick! Tick! She stood up wearily, heading down to the kitchen. It was a mind-numbing chore to sit around and wait for Adnan's return. He had told her not to worry. Surely that should be enough consolation for her. But then... Tick! Tick! Tick!Even here, she was ambushed by the sonorous ticking, which threatened to drive her insane. When he returned, she would talk to him about removing every single clock in the house. She busied herself in the kitchen, washing everything they'd used earlier while she hummed to herself dryly, trying to drown out the maddening sound. Tick! Tick! Tick!She was surprised to fi

*According to the Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary, butterflies are defined as a nectar-feeding insect with two pairs of large, typically brightly coloured wings that are covered with microscopic scales. The definition was standard across most modern day dictionaries. For Afrah however, butterflies could be defined as the ghostly entities which fluttered within the confines of her stomach whenever she looked up to find Adnan staring at her. During such an occurrence, she would clamp down on her spoon and refuse to stare at him. The man was just too beautiful for his own well-being. The unease spread all the way to the tips of her fingers, and she desperately sought something - anything - to hide herself behind. "You're unusually quiet today," he said, lifting his spoon to his lips. Afrah tried not to notice the way they tugged into a lopsided grin. She tried, also, not to notice how pink they were. Or the way they moved from side to side after each spoonful. When he bit a piec

*Afrah almost moved into the new painting room. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that it was too far away from Adnan's room, she would have done so. But for now, her choice of where to sleep remained unchanged. Most days however, she would sit in the room, occasionally staring at the backyard for hours on end. It soon became her dining room/study/sanctuary. She had brought a few books into the room, and she read them usually with a cup of coffee beside her and a bowl of noodles. The view was great, and Adnan had started a small garden beside the wall, where he kept several potted plants whose names Afrah didn't know. He watered them everyday before leaving for work, and he instructed Aliyu - the new security guard they'd hired - to water them in the afternoons. Mostly though, Afrah stared at the blank canvases and the paint brushes. The first day after Adnan showed her the room, she had spent hours running her fingers over the brushes and smiling like a little girl. She picked

*Their suite was on the fifth floor, with a large living area and a small bar off to the right. The sight baffled Afrah, until a closer look revealed that all the drinks were nonalcoholic. Adnan had called ahead to request that the room be 'sanitized'. Their room was airier than Afrah had imagined it would be. It was off in the hallway to the left, with tall windows which afforded an alluring view of 57th street below. The bed was king-sized, gigantic and right in the middle of the room. There was a private terrace, with an indoor jacuzzi, an en-suite bathroom and a plush grey rug which covered the length of the room. A faint scent of pine hung over the room, its source untraceable. "That is the most beautiful sight in all of existence," Adnan sighed behind her."I know you're not talking about me," she laughed. "Would you please move?" He playfully shoved her aside. "You're blocking the love of my life."Afrah clutched her sight, laughing at the sight of Adnan as he ran into the