By the time we finished our Fajr prayers, a loud grumble echoed through the quiet air.

I blinked, startled. "Was that... me?"

Zavian smirked, stretching his arms before turning to me with amused eyes. "Sounds like my Mashal-e-Mehtaab is starving."

I shot him a glare, placing a hand over my stomach as if that would silence its betrayal. "You're the reason I'm awake at this ungodly hour, Zavian. The least you can do is feed me."

His smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his hands resting on my waist. "Tsk, tsk... making demands so boldly. Should I remind you who's the husband here?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Should I remind you who's the better cook?"

His brows lifted, challenge flashing in his gaze. "Oh? So you're volunteering to cook for me at dawn?"

I huffed, stepping back. "Not happening. You're making breakfast."

Zavian let out a deep chuckle, his fingers lazily brushing my wrist before he turned towards the kitchen. "Fine. But if I burn the eggs, you're still eating them."

I groaned, following him. "Allah re, musibat!" (Oh God, trouble!)

His laughter filled the house, warm and sinful, as he rolled up his sleeves. "Musibat? Jaan, main toh mohabbat hoon." (Trouble? My love, I am passion itself.)

I watched him with narrowed eyes as he reached for the pan, my lips twitching despite myself. "We'll see about that, Mr. Passion."

_

"Not bad," I said, nodding in approval as I took another bite of the pancake. The warm, buttery taste melted on my tongue, and I had to admit—it was better than I expected.

Zavian, who had been watching me like a hawk, leaned back with a smug grin. "You're welcome, dear."

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my lips twitched. "Don't let it get to your head. It's just pancakes, not a five-star meal."

He chuckled, reaching out to brush a crumb off the corner of my lips with his thumb. "And yet, you're already halfway through your plate."

I paused, mid-bite, glaring at him as heat crept up my neck. "That's called hunger, not flattery."

Zavian smirked, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Mmhmm. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mashal-e-Mehtaab."

I huffed, stuffing another bite into my mouth just to ignore him. But the way his eyes lingered on me, like he was enjoying this little domestic moment far too much, made my heart thump in ways I refused to acknowledge.

_

"Stop checkmating me again and again, Zavian!" I groaned, slumping back against the couch as I glared at the chessboard. His king had cornered mine for the fifth time that evening, and I was dangerously close to flipping the entire board over.

Zavian smirked, lazily leaning on his elbow as he studied me, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "It's not my fault you keep falling into my traps, sweetheart."

I shot him a glare, crossing my arms. "You're cheating. There's no way you can win this many times in a row."

He let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. "Or maybe, my stubborn wife just refuses to learn."

I huffed, reaching for a piece of chocolate from the plate beside me and biting into it aggressively. "I hope you choke on your ego, Mr. Grandmaster."

Zavian raised a brow, clearly entertained. "Feisty tonight, aren't we?" He leaned forward, his fingers brushing mine as he plucked a chocolate from the plate, his smirk deepening when I shivered at the brief touch. "How about this—one more round. If you win, I'll do anything you ask. But if I win... you owe me a kiss."

I nearly choked on my chocolate. "Excuse me?"

His smirk widened. "What's wrong, Mashal-e-Mehtaab? Scared to raise the stakes?"

I narrowed my eyes, my competitive streak flaring. "Fine. But when I win, you're making me breakfast every day for a week."

Zavian chuckled, setting the board again. "Deal. But be ready to pay up, sweetheart. Because I never lose."

I took a deep breath, staring at the board. Oh, I was winning this round—if only to wipe that cocky grin off his face.

The game started, and I was determined this time. No distractions, no falling into his stupid traps. My fingers hovered over my knight before I moved it, my eyes flickering up to meet his.

Zavian was watching me like a predator—dark eyes gleaming, a slow, lazy smirk playing on his lips. "Hmm... interesting move."

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't try your mind games on me, Mr. Chess Champion."

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. "Mind games? Sweetheart, I'm just enjoying watching you struggle."

I ignored him, focusing on the board, moving my queen to attack his rook. His smirk deepened, and before I could react, he swiftly moved his knight.

"Check."

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Again?! Zavian, what the hell—"

He leaned closer, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I told you, Mashal-e-Mehtaab. You can fight me all you want, but in the end, you always end up right where I want you."

I swallowed, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You're infuriating."

"And you're beautiful when you're losing." His fingers traced my wrist lightly before he made his final move. "Checkmate."

I stared at the board, my mouth parting in disbelief. "No. No way. This is rigged. I demand a rematch."

Zavian only laughed, leaning back against the couch, looking smug. "Ah, ah, sweetheart. We had a deal. And I believe you owe me something."

Heat rushed to my face. "Zavian—"

Before I could finish, he reached out, his fingers curling around my wrist, pulling me closer. I barely had time to react before his lips brushed against my cheek, warm and slow, lingering for just a second too long.

"That wasn't the kiss I was expecting," he murmured against my skin, his breath fanning over me. "But I'll be patient. For now."

I shoved his chest, ignoring the way my pulse was racing. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you still married me."

I groaned, throwing a pillow at him. "One more round. I'm winning this time."

Zavian only grinned, resetting the board. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jaan."

_

By night, we were both buried in our work—Zavian glued to his laptop, fingers typing away, while I scrolled through my notes, dreading the early morning ahead. University. Meeting the girls would be fun, though. My wedding treat was still pending, and I could already hear their dramatic complaints.

I sighed, adjusting my position on the couch, stretching my legs beneath the coffee table—only for Zavian's foot to brush against mine. Again.

I froze.

That was the tenth time in five minutes.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze, only to catch him biting back a grin, eyes still fixed on his laptop like he hadn't been deliberately messing with me.

I narrowed my eyes. "Zavian."

He hummed in response, feigning innocence.

"Stop it."

His foot nudged mine again.

I glared. "Zavian, I swear to God—"

"What?" He finally looked up, all casual arrogance, lips twitching in amusement. "I'm just stretching."

I scoffed. "Right. Stretching. You've been playing footsie with me for the past five minutes."

His grin widened. "You noticed? Cute."

I grabbed the nearest cushion and hurled it at him. He caught it effortlessly, laughing. "Hostile much?"

I huffed, going back to my laptop. "I have class tomorrow, and I need sleep, unlike some people who have no concept of normal human schedules."

Zavian leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms behind his head. "You don't have to go."

I frowned. "What?"

His eyes flickered with mischief. "You're Mrs. Zavian now. You can just tell them you're on an extended honeymoon."

I snorted. "And miss my treat session with the girls? Not a chance."

Zavian smirked, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a second too long. "Fine. But if you're too tired to wake up, don't blame me."

I shivered at the teasing edge in his voice, glaring at him for effect. "Then let me sleep."

His smirk deepened as he leaned in slightly. "Go ahead, Jaan. But I can't promise I won't find new ways to distract you."

Heat crept up my neck, and I shot him one last glare before shutting my laptop and marching to the bedroom.

Zavian's chuckle followed me. "Sweet dreams, Mashal-e-Mehtaab."

I put my laptop onto the nightstand and slipped under the covers, determined to ignore the very distracting presence of my husband. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, I felt the mattress dip.

I tensed.

A second later, warm fingers brushed against my bare arm, featherlight, deliberate.

"Zavian," I warned without opening my eyes.

"Hmm?" His voice was all innocence, but the way his fingers trailed up to my shoulder said otherwise.

I turned my head and cracked one eye open. He was smirking.

"Don't you have work?" I muttered.

He hummed, propping himself up on one elbow. "I do. But my wife is here, looking all soft and sleepy, and suddenly, work doesn't seem that important."

I scoffed, pulling the blanket higher. "Well, your wife is very sleepy, so go entertain yourself somewhere else."

His response was to hook a finger into the blanket and tug it down slightly.

"Zavian," I snapped, reaching for it, but he was faster.

His grip tightened, his smirk deepening. "Why do you always look so adorable when you're annoyed?"

I groaned, turning onto my side, giving him my back. "Good night."

For a second, I thought he'd give up.

I should have known better.

A moment later, I felt his breath against the nape of my neck, warm, teasing.

I stiffened.

"You're really going to sleep just like that?" he murmured, voice low, smug.

I swallowed. This menace.

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "Good. Night."

Silence.

Then, his hand slid over my waist, slow and purposeful. "I don't think I like that answer, Jaan."

My heart stuttered.

I turned back to glare at him, but his face was way too close—his dark eyes gleaming, his lips curved in that maddening smirk.

"Zavian," I whispered, my voice a mix of exhaustion and warning.

His fingers flexed against my waist. "Mashal-e-Mehtaab," he whispered back, all teasing reverence.

My breath hitched.

For a second, just a second, I nearly forgot why I was resisting.

Then I remembered.

With all my strength, I shoved him off the bed.

Thud.

A low curse filled the room, followed by my unapologetic laughter.

Zavian groaned from the floor. "You're getting too comfortable throwing me around, woman."

I grinned, rolling onto my stomach to peer down at him. "Good. Maybe next time, you'll let me sleep in peace."

He pushed himself up, rubbing his shoulder, then narrowed his eyes at me. Dangerously.

I blinked. "Zavian—"

Too late.

In one swift move, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me down with him.

A startled gasp escaped me before I landed right on top of him, chest to chest, nose to nose.

I froze.

He smirked up at me. "Still feeling peaceful, sweetheart?"

I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart pounding against my ribs—against him. His arms wrapped securely around my waist, keeping me locked in place. I tried to push away, but his grip tightened, his warmth seeping into me, making it impossible to think clearly.

"Zavian," I warned, trying to sound firm. It came out breathless.

He chuckled, dark and low. "Mashal-e-Mehtaab, you keep pushing me away, but look where you always end up." His lips brushed my forehead, featherlight.

Heat bloomed in my chest. I turned my face away, but that only pressed my cheek against his, and I felt the curve of his smirk.

I swallowed hard. "You planned this, didn't you? To annoy me."

Zavian hummed in amusement. "I only planned to distract you. You're the one who fell into my arms, sweetheart."

I huffed, trying again to wiggle out of his hold, but he made a low sound of warning in his throat.

"Don't."

The command was soft, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

I stilled, my hands splayed against his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath my palm. My own pulse was a mess.

"Jaan," he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against my lower back. "You fight me so much, but your body... it always gives you away."

My breath hitched.

That was not fair.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give in. "I was sleeping, you menace."

His smirk deepened. "And now you're not."

I glared, but he didn't look fazed in the slightest. His eyes held that dangerous glint, the one that always made my stomach do stupid flips.

"Zavian, I swear—"

His arms suddenly shifted, flipping us over in one quick, effortless move. Now he was hovering over me.

My breath caught.

"Yes, my love?" he drawled, smug and infuriating.

I scowled, trying to ignore how incredibly distracting he looked above me, his face inches away, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around me.

"Get off," I ground out.

His eyes darkened.

I realized my mistake too late.

"Off?" he repeated slowly, like he was considering the word very carefully.

I knew that look. I knew it well.

I barely had time to react before he leaned in, his lips brushing against my jaw, my cheek, my ear.

"Not happening," he whispered.

My heart slammed into my ribs.

I gasped, pushing at his chest, but he didn't budge.

"Zavian," I choked out.

"Hmm?" His voice was laced with amusement.

God help me.

I needed to think. I needed an escape.

My gaze darted around the room, desperate—until I spotted the pillow.

Zavian noticed my distraction too late.

With all my strength, I grabbed the pillow and smacked him square in the face.

Thwack.

He groaned, caught off guard, and I took my chance—rolling out from under him and bolting off the ground.

I landed on my feet, breathing hard, clutching the pillow like a shield.

Zavian sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw, his expression equal parts annoyed and amused.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

I smirked. "Oh, absolutely."

His eyes flashed.

Oh no.

Before I could react, he lunged.

I squeaked, darting for the door, but I barely made it three steps before strong arms wrapped around my waist, yanking me back.

I crashed against his chest, breathless.

"Zavian!" I gasped, struggling.

He simply picked me up as if I weighed nothing and tossed me back onto the bed.

I landed with a bounce, still gripping the pillow like my life depended on it.

Zavian climbed over me, smirking like the devil himself.

"You started this, Jaan," he murmured, eyes gleaming.

I gulped.

"I think it's only fair I finish it."