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thegirlwithyou2 made this beautiful aesthetic for Fawad and Mina. Love it! ❤❤

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I have decided to add some unnecessary drama to this chapter, but I'll write it in a way that you all will hopefully enjoy. I dedicate this to MehweenGR and you'll see why.

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ISMAEL WEDS RABIA

Hania

My family was supporting my in-laws completely, even though Mama was the Phupho of the groom. But Daniyal Uncle had been overwhelmed and had almost collapsed with exhaustion, and Hamza had asked Papa to help out, which he gladly agreed to do.

Now, he stood beside me, watching the wedding run smoothly so far. Wearing a stunning black sherwani over white slim-fit trousers, Hamza Daniyal looked incredibly handsome, Ma Sha Allah. And very s*xy. 

I wore a mint maxi with golden embroidery, and left my hair loose today. I had large chandelier earrings to match the dress, with a not-too-heavy necklace which technically wasn't part of a set, but still matched the earrings. 

Mama wore a plum floor-length dress, with modest gold-coloured embroidery on the neckline, with heavier one at the end of the dress and a similar border on the dupatta. Her hair was in a bun, with beads adorning it (as requested by me and Iman). Iman had even asked her to wear a decorative rose in her hair, but she had refused.

Iman herself wore a mint chudidar with a short kameez that had pink and peach embroidery over it and a gold border at the hem. The dupatta was pink, with gold-coloured polka dots and a slim golden border. She had straightened out her hair and had left it open as well. Mama had already been approached about her rishta at Omar Bhai's wedding, as expected, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were more today. 

The bride herself wore a beautiful red maxi with golden embroidery over a gold-coloured lehenga. The dull-gold border of the dupatta sparkled magnificently in the camera lights as it was placed perfectly over her up-do. She looked incredible, Ma Sha Allah, but most importantly, our Rabia looked happy..

Fariha Phupho was a little unwell today due to the exhaustion of preparing for the wedding. She wore a simple cream-coloured Anarklai dress with a heavy purple shawl tha had a golden border. But simplicity has its own beauty, and she certainly proved that. Without even going to the parlour, she looked as beautiful as ever, Ma Sha Allah.

The other new bride, Zunaira Bhabi, was dressed in a deep green lehenga and a long kameez that was magenta over the sleeves and the bodice and a dark shade of purple from the midriff downwards, with heavy gold embroidery over the entire kameez. The dupatta was a light shade of pink with a green and gold border. She wore one of the sets gifted to her by her parents, gold with emeralds. 

Zoya Mumani wore a peach shalwar kameez with white lace patterns stitched over the kameez and the sleeves, with a plain peach dupatta. Her naturally curled hair was pinned back from her face, but hung loose down her back. 

Nazia Mumani, the stepmother of the groom, wore a modest but beautiful golden sari, with silver embroidery on the blouse. She wore a simple silver necklace with it, and golden kangan gifted by her husband. 

Ismael wore a cream coloured sherwani and was currently beaming as he stood on the stage. 

Hamza looked at me. "You know, nothing's going on right now. I'm not immediately needed, and neither are you. Want to take a quick walk with me, out of this hall?" 

"Kya iraaday hain aapke, Hamza?" I asked. I find Urdu to be a very romantic language, and I planned on using it on Hamza more often.

*"What are your intentions, Hamza?"

"Aithay das nai sakda, kudiye." He winked at me, surprising me as he spoke in Punjabi. 

*"I can't tell you here, girl." The 'girl' part doesn't sound as strange in Punjabi. While in English, it might come off as something female friends say to each other, it's different in Punjabi.

He took my hand and led me out of the hall. As soon as we were in a dark, deserted area, still inside the building, he pinned me against the wall, clasping our hands together. He leaned closer and I breathed in his cologne and the scent of mint chewing gum on his breath. I had no idea that I would find the smell of chewing gum this attractive, but my body was reacting quiet positively to it.

These days, I can never even smell mint chewing gum without thinking of Hamza. I'm too far gone.

He put his hands on my cheeks, sliding up until his fingers tangled through my hair. My earrings brushed my cheeks as the movement of his hands jolted them. I closed my eyes as he stepped closer, and I felt his breath against my lips. I was glad that he wasn't actually chewing gum, because as attractive as the smell was on him, the idea of me sucking it in while kissing wasn't... and neither did it seem very hygienic. 

"You are incredibly beautiful, Hania Hamza." He said, before I felt his mouth on mine. 

The kiss was slow initially, as if it was our first kiss, but he deepened it. As pleasure ran through my entire body like a dam had burst inside me to set it free, I clutched his biceps, and tried not to moan. 

"How about...?" He muttered between kissed. "We book a room after this upstairs, and head up straight after the rukhsati?" 

Ismael's wedding was being held at a five star hotel of Lahore, and rooms had been booked for some of the out-of-city guests that were attending the wedding.

"Okay, but not for long. I have to stay at the Sheikh family home tonight, remember?" I reminded him.

I was representing Ismael's side after the rukhsati, and was staying at my Mamus' house, along with Mama and Iman, to have the traditions with the new bride and groom. I had hesitated to say yes because Hamza and Uncle would be alone, but Hamza had insisted that I go. 

"Hai! How will I survive the night without you, Han?" He placed both hands over his heart dramatically.

"Maybe you can sing sad songs while watching the moon." I suggested, giggling. 

"Mujhse juda hokar, tumhe door jaana hai. Par bhal ki judaai, phir laut aana hai." He started singing softly.

*Song: 'Mujhse Juda Hokar' from 'Hum Aapke Hain Kaun'.
"You have to separate from me and go far away. It's a momentary separation, and you have to come back." 

"You're so cheesy." I leaned up and whispered the next words in his ears. "But I find that so s*xy about you." 

"Remind me that when we're alone in a bedroom." He winked at me.

****

The wedding party was amazing, with all our extended family involved. Hamza really mixed well with them all, and he had a blast dancing away with my cousins. 

By the time dinner was served, everyone was exhausted. A special table had been set up by Daniyal Uncle, for the older generation of our family, including Dado, and they were all sat there, talking and laughing.

I had just sat down to eat something, as per the insistence of Daniyal Uncle, when Hamza approached me. A waiter had just left a glass of juice on the table, serving from a tray, and I was just sipping it slowly.

"Han, I'll be right back." Hamza bent down in order to be heard over the music.  "I have to drive some elderly relatives and their grandchildren home. They were leaving, and live nearby and I hate the idea of them taking the rickshaw or taxi alone." 

"You're so caring." I smiled up at him.

He glanced around before quickly kissing my forehead. "I'll be back as soon as possible." 

I looked around and saw Zafar Uncle bringing food for Fariha Phupho, as she was feeling a little weak from fatigue. I smiled at the love between them. Ma Sha Allah. 

"Phoolon si mehkay teri zindagi bahaar ho, dhairon wafaayein milain pyar beshumar ho..." The song 'Ballay Ballay' from the film 'Bin Roye' was playing in the background and I began to absent-mindedly tap my foot to it.

*"May your life bloom like flowers in spring, may you get lots of loyalties and loads of love..." It makes more sense in Urdu.

I stood up, and I felt a little weird, severely dizzy. It was so bad that I stumbled. My head was buzzing and I felt like I was actually floating and gravity didn't exist. I turned towards the table and reached for the glass of juice that I had been drinking. I reached for it, but my hands were shaking so much that I gave up. 

Closing my eyes, I clutched onto the back of the chair, hoping that the dizziness would fade away. 

"Hania Appi, are you okay?" Amara asked me, as she was passing by.

"C-Can you get my Mama, please?" I muttered.

She nodded, putting her hand on my arm gently. "Don't worry." She rushed away. 

I sat down, putting my head in my hands, groaning as my head began to spin again. 

"Hania!" Mama's concerned voice made me sigh in relief. My mother was here. She would save the day! "Kya hua, meri jaan?" I felt her hands running over my head.

*"What happened, my life?" 

"I don't feel so good. I feel dizzy and weird. Like I felt when I woke up at the dentist after a treatment where I had been given anaesthesia." I muttered. 

"Khush khabri hai, lagta hai! Daniyal Sahab apni beti ki rukhsai ke din apne bete ki bhi khush khabri sunain ge lagta hai." An aunty nearby must have overheard me.

*"It seems like good news! Mr Daniyal will hear the good news of his son [i.e. Hania's pregnancy] on the day he sends off his daughter."

"Mama, I feel like I'm high." I muttered, confused. "How is that possible? I haven't had any medication." 

But soon, it was obvious that I wasn't the only one complaining of this. Other guests seemed to experiencing the same. 

"What's going on?" Mama looked around the hall, confused.

****

Zafar

I have heard about reports in the city of mischief-makers sneaking into weddings and basically mixing intoxicating substances in the food and drink, but I never expected it to happen at our family wedding.

As a girl of our family, Hania, fell victim to it, everyone got more alert. The men walked around the hall walking people and I decided that I had to do something. Something illegal had happened here and I couldn't just sit here and enjoy the gajrela (carrot pudding).

I walked over to the DJ stand and asked him to give me the microphone, before turning to speak to the wedding guests. "I hate to ruin this beautiful evening, but this is a matter of concern. The food and/or drinks have been spiked in this hall, most likely an act of mischief-makers. I would request you all to immediately stop eating the food or drinking the drinks in the hall. I have called my colleagues, police officers, and we will get to the bottom of this. For now, you are free to leave, but if you feel unwell and unable to go home, you can remain behind and you will be safely escorted home."

It was practically a law of nature that our family weddings did not go off without drama. We should have expected at least something. 

Luckily, the bride and groom seemed fine, as well as the majority of the people. It was only a few people that had been affected by this.

Bilal approached me, and gestured for me to move away from the microphone so that he could speak to me. 

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Usually, drinks are set on the buffet table, or on the individual tables at weddings. They are not served in open glasses, right?" 

"That's right." I nodded.

"I saw a waiter serving juices in open glasses, and I found it weird, but Hania Appi took a glass from it. I don't know about the rest." 

"Would you recognise the waiter who was serving them?" I asked Ahad's son.

"Yeah, he just went into the kitchen actually." 

"Come with me." I led the way to the kitchen, followed by Bilal.

"We need to get in there." I told a waiter who stood by the kitchen door entrance.

"You're not allowed in there, Sir." He shook his head.

"For the love of..." I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and showed him my police ID. "I need to get in there, and if you attempt to stop me, you will be causing hindrance in a police investigation." 

Still looking unsure, the waiter stepped aside and I headed into the kitchen, followed by Bilal.

"There he is!" Bilal immediately pointed to the waiter near the back of the kitchen, standing by a pot in which something was boiling, with steam rising up. 

"You go back out, Bilal." I told the kid. "Let me handle it."

"Zafar Chachu..." He began to insist that he wanted to stay.

"Bilal, go. Thank you for your help, but this is police matter, beta."

Without further argument, Bilal left and I headed towards the waiter. "Why were you serving drinks in glasses? It's not usual for weddings for hygiene and safety purposes.*"

He looked at me startled. "W...We...We serve drinks like that." He was clearly lying, the way he was stammering and averting my gaze.

"Where's the manager?" I called out, looking around, and a man in a suit appeared almost instantly, like Aladdin's genie had been summoned. 

"Yes, Sir?" The manager asked me politely. His nametag read 'Sharjeel'. 

"Does this hall have a policy for serving drinks in open glasses?" I asked him.

"No, Sir." The manager confirmed what I already knew.

I looked at the waiter. "You want to spit out the truth, or shall we take a little trip to the police station?" 

"I...It was just meant to be a harmless prank, that's all." The waiter blurted out. "I'm a college student, and my friends and I prank..."

"Drugging people is a crime, not a prank." I said. "What have you mixed in the drinks?" I hated these pranks and trends where people got hurt or humiliated. "People could have seriously fatal reactions to drugs, you realise that? If any one of those guests end up losing their life because of a silly college prank, the only place you'll see for the rest of your life is a prison cell. You've destroyed your education, your life, just for a few moments of cruel fun." 

"Have you completely lost your mind?" The manager snapped at him.

"Needless to say," I told Sharjeel. "This hall will be closed while the investigation goes on. Your employee risked lives while on duty, which puts the reputation and credibility of your hall in question. I will be seeking court orders to at least temporarily shut this place down while we investigate exactly what happened, and if anyone else was involved." 

That was a sad reality of life. Sometimes innocent people suffered for the actions of others. And while I don't consider big businesses 'innocent', this hall was going to be suffering severe loss because of the actions of its employee.

But there's no way that this policeman would let anyone get away with this. This pathetic young man had pranked the wrong wedding party.

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WARNING: Alcohol/drug use is haram, and this story does not endorse it in any manner. These are just the hilarious consequences of unintentional intoxication.

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Hamza

"You're high." After making sure that Hania was fine, I was amused. With my arm around her, I was taking her up to the room that I had ended up reserving, for different purposes this time.

Han's protective parents and father-in-law had taken her to the hospital, and I had brought her back after the doctor had reassured us that her health was at any risk. The intoxicating substance, whatever it was, was actually harmless. So while Hania was going to be high for a while, she was overall fine.

Drama. Drama everywhere.

Knowing that Han was okay, and that she hadn't intentionally done anything haraam, I was now grinning as we arrived at our room.

The moment I opened the door, she ran in, almost tripping over her long maxi. 

"Han..." I reached out to grab her arm.

But she freed herself, and to my surprise, she started dancing and singing, "Ballay ballay nache hai yeh bawra jiya, ballay ballay le jaye ga sawra piya..." 

*This is also the song 'Ballay Ballay' from 'Bin Roye'.

I was struggling not to burst out laughing, to the point where I had to press my fist against my mouth. 

Her moves were silly and clumsy, but as her hair flew around her, as the angel in mint and gold danced her heart out in front of my eyes, my laughter stopped, giving way to pure awe. She had kicked her shoes off and was having the time of her life, giggling. 

"Ballay ballay ni tor Punjaban di..." She continued singing. 

Feeling bad for her poor throat that would probably be sore in the morning, I played that song for her on my phone, which made her clap her hands with happiness.

I leaned back against a wall, my arms crossed over my chest and watched the Happy Dance of Hania Hamza. It was absolutely one of the most beautiful sights that I'd ever seen, a happy and carefree Hania. 

"Join me." She pouted, holding her hand out towards me.

"Why not?" I kicked my own shoes off and walked over to us, and we both started doing Punjabi-style dance. 

She took her dupatta and held it up over her head like they do in the films, making me double over laughing.

"Take your sherwani off, please." She said.

The next thing I knew, I was undressing in time to the music, making things seem a little 18+. I spun the sherwani over my head and threw it randomly to the other side of the room, before pulling my white kameez off. 

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with pure delight. Her cheeks were pink from the dance and her hair was a mess. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling quickly, automatically directing my gaze towards it. But a few seconds later, I gazed back in her beautiful eyes. She suddenly rushed up to me and wrapped her arms around me, tilting her head back to stare up at me. "People thought I was pregnant. Imagine the reaction of the desi aunties when they realised that I was actually drugged up." She laughed hard, pressing her head against my shoulder as her laughter slowly turned into quiet giggles.

"Out of the two of us, nobody ever expected you to ever get high." I chuckled. "Oh, Han meri jaan, I will be teasing you about this for the rest of my life." 

We continued dancing some more, like a couple in a cheesy film, until Hania leaned against me, worn out. 

"Did Rebel Hani get tired after a wild night?" I laughed, scooping her up in my arms and leading her to the bed. "I'm such a bad influence of you, babe." I kissed her forehead. 

"My clothes itch. Can you help me change?" She ran her fingers lightly through my hair.

"Are you sure you trust me?" I teasingly asked the girl who had quickly become my whole world.

"I trust you blindly, Hamza*." She whispered, her voice drifting shut.

*Oh God, help me. I almost wrote 'Fawad' here. 

And so I slowly undressed her. She was unconscious as I did so, it was hard, but eventually I put her silk purple nightsuit on her. She looked so innocent as she slept.

But God, I had loved this cheerful, carefree side of her. I just hope that she didn't need to get intoxicated again to bring it out.

****

Zafar

Ahad couldn't stop laughing, as he and I stood in the garden of the Sheikh family home, back from the intoxicating wedding.

"This isn't funny, Bhai. This could have become a tragedy." I glared at him. 

"Could have. It didn't, Alhumdulillah. Everyone's fine. Our Hani Jaani is fine." Ahad finally stopped laughing, straightening up. "But I never imagined that our Hani Jaani, the golden child, would get high, even unintentionally. The idea itself makes me want to laugh for the rest of my life." 

"I will get to the bottom of this." I had been repeatedly making phone calls, making sure that this incident was properly investigated.

"Tu jaa, Bhabi noun sambhal." Ahad patted my back. "Let your colleagues deal with it." 

*"You go and take care of Bhabi."

"If someone..."

"Yes, we all know. Superhero Zaf to the rescue. What would we innocent citizens have done if you weren't around? We are forever grateful to you for protecting us and looking after us, oh Great Zaf Man." Ahad continued teasing me. "Otherwise who would have saved us from a college prankster? We were all doomed."

"You are a pr**k." I told him. 

"Everyone's fine." He told me. "And not to sound selfish, but most importantly, Hani Jaani is fine. Alhumdulillah. Now we can joke around about it, and Mr Smile will remember his wedding forever."

"Ahad, there comes a time in life when it's important to grow up." I shook my head, smiling.

"There are already way too much serious stuff in life. I just find excuse to laugh to get away from the boring routine of life." Ahad stared up at the night sky.

"Growing up sucks." I muttered, nodding.

"Indeed it does." He turned to grin at me. "I'm going to turn in early. I have a lot of teasing to do tomorrow, especially to Mr Smile and Hani Jaani." 

****

Hania

My head was hurting as I pounded hard on the bathroom door the next morning. "Hamza! Are you showering or renovating the bathroom? You've been in there forever!" 

I was already dressed, in my pale yellow lace frock dress, with a matching net dupatta. "Everyone must be waiting for us!" We were going to take breakfast to the Sheikh family home, as Rabia's Bhai and Bhabi.

"One second!" He yelled back, and I finally heard him turn off the shower.

"It took me less time to get ready on my wedding day." I muttered as the door opened a few moments later.

Hamza grinned at me, water dripping down his body, and his hair plastered to his forehead in a cute way. We stood so close to each other that all I could inhale was the scent of his shampoo and body wash. "Hamare pyar ka nasha uttar gaya hai, Hani Ji?" 

*"Are you sober from the intoxication of my love, Miss Hania?"

I groaned internally. I remembered dancing, but everything else was blurry. I was so embarrassed. He pulled me into his arms. 

"I love you." He nuzzled his face against my neck. "May Allah give you good health and a long live, and may He always keep you under his protection. Ameen."

"As much as I appreciate the dua, is there a particular reason for it?" I smiled.

"Isn't it enough of a reason that I love you like crazy?" He kissed my neck.

"Okay, calm down, Romeo." I muttered. "I'm not starving my family because you're feeling romantic." 

"How about we order them breakfast through an app, and stay here?" He suggested.

"How about you go take a cold shower?" I shot back, grinning mischievously.

"That's my girl. Learning from me." With a wink, he moved past me and into the bedroom.

I laughed. "You are a bad influence, Hamza Daniyal." 

"Says the girl who got high at a family wedding!" He laughed loudly. 

I groaned out loud this time. I knew that Hamza wasn't going to let me live this down.

****

"How are you feeling, Hani?" Papa gave me a hug, and kissed the top of my head.

"I had a hangover, but I'm better now." I said. "I never imagined I'd ever say this to my parents." 

He laughed. "It was bizarre, no doubt, last night." 

And then I came face-to-face with a very amused Ahad Mamu, who couldn't stop chuckling.

"Ahad, that's enough!" Arhaan Mamu finally said, firmly over breakfast. "Leave our Hani alone now." 

I smirked at Ahad Mamu. "Good. You got in trouble!" 

"You cheeky little Hani Jaani! Dhokebaaz zamaana, jahaan apne apne nahin rehte." Ahad Mamu sighed.

*"Traitorous world, where your own betray you."

"Ahad Mamu, you are great." Hamza grinned at him.

It was so awkward being with everyone, even though what happened last night hadn't been my fault. 

"A song from last night won't leave my head." Hamza suddenly pretended to look thoughtful. "Tell me if anyone recognises it. Ballay Ballay nache hai yeh bawra jiya..." 

I glanced at him, wide-eyed. 

Noor immediately told him the name of the song. 

Flashes of me dancing, the thrill of it, the feel of my earrings and hair hitting my face, came back into my mind. The mint and gold of my dress as I moved around. 

Why was Hamza trying to make me blush in front of everyone?

But I also couldn't stop thinking how happy and truly in love I felt last night. I didn't do anything that was unacceptable in front of my husband, and even though bits of the night were blurry, I remember feeling carefree and genuinely happy.

I guess my intoxication had brought out a different side of me, a side that I wanted around more often (sober, of course), but only in front of Hamza.

I was ready to release this newly discovered self of mine, in front of my husband, to create even more excitement in our marriage. I wanted him to laugh with me, to feel as carefree as I had felt last night. 

I wanted Hamza Daniyal to start stepping out of the dark shadows of his painful past and live lie in a happier way with me by his side, and I was going to do anything and everything to make it happen.

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Okay, this was a crazy, last-minute planned chapter. I wanted something funny because I am planning major drama soon, so this is to relax you guys.

Mehween, this kind of showed how Zafar handled the situation, which is why I dedicated this chapter to you!

I loved writing the dancing scene, and I loved writing about how Hamza was attracted to this different side of Hania. 

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!