Scene One
Late Night Arrival – The Silent House
The clock on the car dashboard blinked 11:47 p.m. as Imran slowly turned the steering wheel into the familiar street. The neighborhood was asleep—streetlights casting pale circles on empty roads, the kind of silence that only comes late at night.
Rimsha glanced outside and then toward Imran.
"Sab so gaye honge," she whispered.
Imran nodded, parking carefully in the porch.
"Is liye chabi saath rakhi thi. Mama ko uthana acha nahi lagta."
Rimsha smiled, appreciating the thoughtfulness. She took the keys from her handbag, the soft jingle sounding louder than it should have in the stillness.
They stepped out of the car quietly, closing the doors with care. The house stood calm and welcoming, its lights dim, curtains drawn. Rimsha unlocked the main door slowly, holding her breath as the lock clicked open.
Inside, the house felt warm—familiar scents, the comfort of home. They slipped their shoes off near the entrance, instinctively lowering their voices even further.
Imran leaned closer and murmured,
"Chalo… room mein."
Rimsha nodded, her dupatta gathered neatly as they moved down the hallway.
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Scene Two
Their Room – The World Pauses
Their bedroom welcomed them with soft lighting and gentle stillness. The curtains were half-drawn, moonlight filtering through, casting a faint silver glow across the room.
Rimsha placed her handbag on the dressing table and exhaled slowly.
"Aaj ka din kaafi lamba tha," she said softly.
Imran loosened his jacket and smiled.
"Haan… lekin achha bhi."
They moved around the room quietly—routine gestures that already felt shared. Rimsha folded her dupatta carefully, placing it aside. Imran removed his watch and placed it on the table, the ticking sound fading into the silence.
As they began changing into comfortable clothes, the tiredness of the day finally settled in—but beneath it, something gentler stirred.
Imran glanced at Rimsha as she adjusted her hair, her reflection soft in the mirror. Without saying a word, he stepped closer.
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Scene Three
Unspoken Words – A Simple Embrace
Rimsha felt his presence before his arms reached her. Imran gently wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his forehead near her shoulder.
She froze for a brief second—then relaxed into him.
"Imran…" she whispered.
He didn't rush, didn't tighten his hold.
"Bas yun hi," he murmured.
"Din bohat shor bhara hota hai… raat mein sukoon milta hai."
Rimsha placed her hands over his, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath.
"Tumhare saath sukoon zyada mehsoos hota hai."
He smiled against her shoulder.
They stood like that for a while, the world outside completely forgotten. No expectations. No urgency. Just closeness.
Imran finally loosened his embrace slightly, turning her gently to face him. His voice was calm, sincere.
"Rimsha, tum theek ho na? Thaki hui lag rahi ho."
She nodded.
"Thori si… lekin achhi thakan hai."
He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face—slow, respectful, familiar.
"Phir araam karte hain," he said.
"Kal Sunday hai."
She smiled softly.
"Haan… kal late uth sakte hain."
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Scene Four
A Night That Belongs Only to Them
The lights were dimmed further, the room settling into stillness. Outside, the city slept on.
They lay down, side by side, talking in low voices—about small memories, shared laughter, plans that didn't need to be finalized tonight.
Rimsha turned her head slightly.
"Imran?"
"Hm?"
"Tumhe shaadi ke baad zindagi different lag rahi hai?"
He thought for a moment.
"Haan… lekin is tarah ke ab akelay nahi hoon."
She smiled in the darkness.
"Main bhi."
The conversation slowly faded, replaced by silence that felt full, not empty. Time moved gently, almost unnoticed.
Somewhere deep into the night, the house remained still—witness to a bond strengthening quietly, without spectacle. A night defined not by noise, but by closeness, trust, and shared breath.
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Scene Five
Before Dawn – A Soft Awakening
In the early hours before dawn, a faint call for Fajr prayer drifted through the open window, distant yet clear.
Imran stirred slightly, opening his eyes. For a moment, he simply listened. Rimsha slept peacefully beside him, her breathing slow and even.
He whispered quietly, more to himself than to her,
"SubhanAllah…"
Careful not to disturb her, he adjusted the blanket gently, ensuring she was warm. The calm of the moment settled deep into his chest.
After offering his prayer quietly, he returned, lying down again, the world still wrapped in silence.
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Scene Six
Sunday Morning – Time Slows Down
Sunlight filtered into the room much later than usual.
The clock read 11:03 a.m.
Rimsha stirred first, stretching slightly before realizing how late it was. She turned toward Imran, who was still asleep, his face relaxed, free from the usual lines of responsibility.
She smiled to herself.
"Sunday ka asar," she murmured.
She sat up slowly, careful not to wake him, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. The house outside was awake now—distant sounds of movement, faint voices—but their room still felt like a small world of its own.
Imran groaned softly and opened one eye.
"Kitna baj gaya?" he asked sleepily.
Rimsha laughed quietly.
"Gyarah baj gaye hain, janab."
He closed his eyes again.
"Phir to record ban gaya."
She leaned closer.
"Utho… warna mama aa jaengi."
That worked.
Imran sat up quickly, running a hand through his hair.
"Achha, achha… uth gaya."
They looked at each other and laughed—soft, unguarded laughter that only comes when no one else is watching.
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Scene Seven
A New Kind of Morning
As they prepared to step out of the room, Rimsha paused at the doorway and looked back once—at the bed, the soft light, the quiet.
Something inside her felt settled.
Not excitement.
Not rush.
Just belonging.
Imran noticed her pause.
"Kya hua?"
She shook her head, smiling.
"Kuch nahi… bas acha lag raha hai."
He nodded, understanding without explanation.
They stepped out together, into the warmth of the house, into another ordinary day—made extraordinary simply because they were no longer walking alone.
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End of Chapter