The Fajr azaan echoed softly through the room.
Hazel woke up at its sound and tried to get up, but Haris tightened his hold around her.
"Please... stay for five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily.
Hazel giggled a little.
"Haris... get up fast, we're getting late."
They both made wudu, and Haris had already spread the prayer mat.
They prayed Fajr together.
After the prayer, Haris left for the masjid, and Hazel sat on the prayer mat, doing her zikr.
She opened the Qur'an and made dua - thanking Allah (SWT), praying for her late father's maghfirat, asking for good health, good grades, and peace.
When her dua ended, she began reciting Surah Yaseen and Surah Al-Baqarah.
At that moment, Haris returned and saw her.
He stood silently for a moment... completely mesmerised.
"Hazel..." he said softly, "may I put my head in your lap? Only if you allow, Mrs. Haris."
Hazel paused, a little surprised.
"Yes... but why are you asking permission?" she asked gently.
Haris smiled faintly.
"Because you're reciting Qur'an... and you matter to me, Hazel. I don't want to disturb you."
He leaned into her lap - slowly, respectfully - and closed his eyes.
Her recitation continued, soft and soothing.
Within minutes, Haris felt so peaceful that he fell asleep.
Hazel felt his warm breaths on her lap and looked down at him.
Newborn baby jaisa...
Who said he's cold and rude?
The man I married... is so different. So soft.
When she finished reciting, she placed the Qur'an carefully on the night table.
She read Ayatul Kursi and duas over him, praying:
Ya Allah... protect him always.
Grant him goodness.
Keep us in Your mercy.
Haris remained asleep, completely relaxed in her lap.
After some time, he slowly woke up, blinking.
He realised where he had slept - and smiled shyly.
Hazel's hand was still in his hair, and his fingers were gently wrapped around her wrist.
"You look so beautiful..." he whispered, "my teddy bear."
Then he looked at her face again, seeing her peaceful after weeks.
"Mashallah... Allah has truly blessed my life. Alhamdulillah."
Hazel woke up fully when she felt his head near her neck.
She smiled softly.
"Mr. Haris... wake up now na. Let's go have breakfast. I'm hungry."
But instead of getting up, both of them cuddled even more - another thirty minutes of warmth, whispers, and sleepy smiles.
Finally, Haris stretched and said,
"Okay, get up now. You freshen up."
Hazel went to the washroom, got ready, and came out wearing a beautiful pink modest dress, perfect for the London weather.
She looked effortlessly elegant.
Haris stared at her... like she was his entire lifetime.
She did her skincare shyly, and Haris couldn't help admiring her.
"My Hazel jaan... my teddy bear," he murmured, smiling. "How do I tell you how adorable you are? I'm going to freshen up too. Wait fifteen minutes."
He returned wearing his soft house clothes.
Hazel blinked.
"Aren't you going to the office today?"
He stepped closer, held her waist lightly, and said,
"You forgot, Mrs. Haris... today is Sunday. Our day.
Our quality time - after so long. You were busy with exams, and I was busy with work. Today... only us."
Hazel blushed deeply.
They went downstairs together.
At the dining table, Haris pulled a chair for her.
"Sit."
Hazel smiled shyly.
The staff served parathas, omelette, and hot chai
Haris sat beside her instead of at the head, surprising even himself.
He kept glancing at her - and Hazel kept pretending she didn't notice.
When she served him first, his heartbeat stuttered.
Their fingers touched.
A spark.
"Haris... eat," she whispered.
"If you do small things like this," he said quietly, "I won't be able to stay calm."
Hazel blushed instantly.
She poured chai for him, but he placed his hand on hers gently.
"No... let me. I'll pour for you."
He served her chai with the most careful hands - as if she was something precious.
Hazel lowered her gaze, a shy smile on her lips.
It was the simplest breakfast...
yet the sweetest morning of their marriage.
A morning filled with dua, softness, peace, and the slow bloom of real love.
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