You cried for Ulfat and Faizal, you cried for Aalam bhai, you even cried a little bit for Uzair, cried lots and lots for Yalina and Zayan, but most of all you cried for Hamza and Jaskirat.

Hamza deserved his family after losing it all as Jaskirat and Jaskirat deserved his family back after enduring and losing so much as Hamza. That man hadn't known peace the moment he got the news of his Father and Harleen’s murder, Jasleen’s abduction and sexual assault. He could never forget his sister's face, her tied to furniture like some rabid animal, her gut wrenching cries, he could never forget his mother's last words to him, he would never forget the promise garbaaz or pinda as he liked made to him, he could never forget how he was the reason Pinda died, how he was the reason Aalam died. He said he didn't have the feelings to go home, to return to his mother and sister, but was it the truth? Do humans actually move on? Or do we just claim to do so? Can we forget the love that we got or which we did? You believed he was lying to Aalam but more so to himself.

Your brain knew it was all fictional, nobody was hurt, nobody left his family behind, nobody. But your heart still ached, your eyes still stayed wet, tears still rolled down your cheeks. The pain was so real that you could feel your palms hurt, your blood vessels constrict, a nervous reaction you had to emotional pain. It manifested into a physical one. You cried and cried and cried. You did not know when sleep took over you. You somewhere knew that a nasty migraine was waiting for you tomorrow, the crying and dehydration from it will be the death of you.

___________

The moment you woke up instead of the expected headache, you felt that grogginess you felt after a long, good nap. You turned to look at the watch on your wall. 5:47 p.m. Had you slept the whole night and next day off? This was not your clock. This was not your room. There was a literal child sleeping beside you, facing away from you. This was definitely not your bed, nor your room. In your sleepy haze you didn't even realise where you were.

You stood up and walked up to the open balcony door, what the hell was this place? Walking back into the room you caught your reflection in the mirror. This was not you, right? Looking at the reflection, your stomach twisted with dread and sense of unease. You took the nearest object- a wooden comb and struck it hard against your forearm. It hurt like a bitch- doesn't matter- this fucking body, it did hurt you.

Before you could get a hold of the situation or atleast get your it in your senses- you heard heavy footsteps right outside the closed door. You breath hitched, as the door knob, twisted open. The man who leaned in a bit into the room to check, took your breath away. Your eyes widened in shock, you felt your skin marred with goosebumps - was it really him?

“So raha hai?”

You looked at him for too long, before he wiggled his eyebrow in question.

“Hmm?”

“Zayan. So raha hai?”

“Haan…hum dono so gaye the shayad.”

He nods in answer. You exit the room, not to disturb the sleeping child.

“Aaj jaldi aa gaya, socha bahr chalenge. Koi baat nahi thak gaya hoga.”

“Haan, thak gaya tha.”

He looked at you in confusion. You were aware, you were just repeating what he was saying. But you didn't know what else to say. Was this a dream? Were you having a lucid dream? Did dehydration lead to a syncope? What the hell was this? The only thing you knew was that tomorrow was going to be the day Hamza would meet Pinda. Pinda will die, and so will Aalam.

“Accha, woh kal mujhe ek zaroori kaam hai, shayad aane mein raat ko der ho jaaye. Tum chaho toh Jamali sahab ke yahan ho aana, Zayan ke saath. Tumari ammi ke saath wakt bita logi.”

Panic settled in your heart, you stumbled over your words to answer him.

“Aap bhi chaliye phir”

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

“Abhi toh kaha Yalina, kal zaroori kaam hai. Parson chalenge?”

“Nahi aap- mujhe kuch accha nahi lag raha. Aap apne kaam ke liye kisi aur ko bhej dein. Rizwan bhai ko bhej dein.”

He sighs and cupped your face. He tucked your unruly hair behind your ears. He didn't know what you did. He was going to die three deaths tomorrow. To him it was just his wife being concerned for him.

“Mujhe kuch nahi hoga. Der se aaunga lekin, aa jaunga. Har baar aa hi jaata hoon. Haina?”

“Lekin koi aur bhi toh jaa sakta hai! Aapko jaane ki kya zaroorat hai-”

“Yalina. Maine tumse kaha na main aa jaunga? Accha tum dono mat jaana kal theek hai? Main wakt se aa jaunga. Aur agar kuch zaroori der tak chala toh ghar bula lunga sab ko, theek?”

You wanted to argue with him, but you knew he would not back off. This was a crucial part he had to play. He had to win his trust. When you sighed in defeat, Hamza dropped a kiss to your forehead.

______________________

Pinda was dead and so was Aalam. You stood beside your Yalina’s father. Hamza looked distraught- at least to you he did. After he left, you retreated to Zayan’s room. He looked so peaceful sleeping. Were you here temporary? Will you suddenly sleep again and go back to your old life? Or were you going to suffer the same fate Yalina had? Will you have to see this little kid grow up without his father? Would you be able to answer his questions?

Just like last night, he stumbled into the corridor. You heard his steps but he didn't open the door. He didn't even rattle the doorknob to check if it was locked or not. You saw him sitting on the floor, looking out at the fire in the front yard burning, as you exited the room.

Without a word you sat beside him. You heard him let out a deep sigh.

“Yalina-”

“Abhi nahi, Hamza. Maafi mat maangiye. Main naraz nahi hoon.”

He looked at you shocked. His eyes. He had been crying. He was drunk, and he had been crying. There was no hiding it.

“Lekin aaj uss aadmi aur aalam ko jo tumhe dekhna pada-”

“Hamza. Abhi nahi.”

He looked at you in suspicion. Of course, Yalina would not behave like this, more like yalina- didn't know enough to act like this. You don't know how long you were going to be here but right now you cannot imagine the pain that mas was going through. The grief and guilt would stick to him like the odour of carbon dioxide, it'll last longer till he'd live. At least he wouldn't lose his wife and son today. He would have to answer to yalina if he loved her or not.

When you looped your hand through his shoulder to pull him in, he looked at you sceptically. You gave him a barely there smile and caressed his forehead and hair. He sighed and put his head into your lap. He reclined his body, laid on the cold hard floor, with his head in your lap.

You kept brushing his hair, your fingers would sooth his eyebrow then retreats into the mane of his hair.

“Kabhi kabhi maut mein zindagi se zyada sukoon aur rehem hota hai.”

Words left you before you could stop them. You did not know what to say to comfort him.

“Aadmi kitna bhi bhaag le, mukkadar aur kismat ka likha hua nahi bhaag sakta. Maut shayad zindagi ka aakhri manzar ho lekin jinse him mohobbat karte hain woh hamare dil mein hamesha rehte hain, ya toh unke jaane ka gham ban kar ya jurm-e-ehsaas ban kar. Insaan ka dil leech ki tarha hota hai- jahan bhi mohobbat mili, wahin lag jaata hai. Phir chahe woh insaan ghatiya hi kyun na ho.”

He did not reply to any of your words, neither did he spare you any fleeting look. His gaze was trained at the fire still burning in the courtyard. You felt your kurta and salwaar dampen with his tears but you didn't comment on it. You kept caressing his head, trying to comfort him as best as you could. Tears silently roll down your eyes, despite knowing everything, his pain, his guilt there was nothing you could do, other than try to offer him a moment of peace.

“Aise bohot kam mazarame hai jahan aap ek aise aadmi ban jaayenge jis se main mazid mohobbat nahi karoongi. Zayan bhi.”

You knew you yalina was going to lose him. If it will be you still here, you don't know what you'll do but if this was a fragment of imagination and this was some alternate reality, Hamza deserved to know that he was loved, if not believe it, he at least deserved to hear those words. Only time would tell what would happen.

“Aap so jaayen, main yahin hoon.”

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She ran the rest of the distance in absolute panic, even before it could register that there had not been fear in Zayan’s voice, rather an unrestrained delight. 

“Zayan!”, she cried out again and then came to an abrupt stop, panting but that heart rendering terror had been squashed down immediately into baffled amusement. 

Rehman was laughing at the toddler who had climbed over him like a small monkey and was clinging to his neck, babbling so fast that the words were utterly illegible. But the sheer joy in his childishly squeaky voice was unmistakable. 

“Rehman Bhai! Where did you come from?”, Yalina turned around once, expecting the former gangster’s bodyguards to erupt out of nowhere from the stylishly maintained foliage. 

Rehman plucked little Zayan off his neck but let him snuggle against his chest, wrapping his arms around the squirming child and walked towards her, looking strangely sedate despite the amusement at her perplexity and surprise and more than that, an incomprehensible affection for her son clear in his bright dark gaze. 

“I scaled the wall”, he said deadpanned. 

“You did not!”, Yalina gasped incredulously. 

“I did. There are at least four major blind spots in your security system and I would suggest hiring better guards at the front gates. The idiot who is stationed near the east wall is too busy taking smoke breaks than watching the perimeter”, Rehman continued unperturbed, moving away from Zayan’s attempts to eat his hair. 

“You did not scale a fifteen feet solid wall in broad daylight in sandals. Bhai, there are lasers on the eastern boundary!”, Yalina threw her arms up in fascinated horror. 

“Like I said— major blindspots”, Rehman replied sagely and chuckled at Zayan patting his face and giggling as if agreeing with his mother. 

“Oh for… forget it. Next time, please come from the front gate like a normal person.”

“Pyaari, you married into a madhouse by choice. Now, don’t complain about the madness”, the older man grinned and sat down by the couches kept encircling the closed fireplace. 

Yalina huffed and sat down beside him, stroking Zayan’s hair off his forehead as the latter was engaged playing with Rehman’s reading glasses that he had fished out of the pocket of his vest.

“Well at least you caught this imp. He has been making me run in circles since morning”, she complained while Zayan stared up at Rehman with completely innocent eyes. The boy was a masterclass in emotional manipulation and the once bastard king of Lyari was all too happy to fall into his sticky-fingered trap. 

“He is just a growing boy and needs his exercise..aren’t you?”, he tickled those chubby cheeks and was rewarded with a burst of breathless chortling giggles that felt like his heart was being squeezed by those tiny hands. 

Zayan always made Rehman feel like there was a ballooning pressure beneath his ribs that would explode if stretched another inch. The boy was a world of such pure innocent mirth all the time that it was a marvel on its own. 

There was also the fact that he was a beautiful baby. 

With Hamza’s green eyes and the shape of his ears and Yalina’s curly hair and her fair complexion and with a permanent flush of pomegranate red over those cherubic cheeks, the little boy was a doll. 

And he reminded Rehman so much of Naieem that it hurt like a cannon ball tearing through his tattered shrivelled heart whenever Zayan would look up at him with such transparent trust. It simultaneously made him want to rip open his ribs and hide the boy inside and then fling himself off a cliff trying to get his tainted shadow off the poor kid. 

“You will spoil him rotten..”, Yalina complained but her eyes were soft and she had that mischievous half smile on her beautiful face. 

Rehman was suddenly reminded how young the girl still was. 

“Okay, spill”, the girl said, suddenly startling him out of his rather melancholic musings.

“What?”he asked, surprised. 

“Why did you decide to scale the wall of my house in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon—”

“Couldn’t I have just come for a visit?”

“In the middle of the afternoon on a weekday of which I am sure your schedule is packed. How many meetings did you leave hanging? Bhai, please tell me you haven’t left your security detail panicking in some bylane of Lyari trying to find you..”

Rehman gave her a surreptitious side-eye that was definitely not an admission of guilt. 

Yalina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose and Rehman turned his attention back to the baby in his arms, pulling at the gold buttons of his ochre vest.

“At least tell me, Hamza knows where you are. Or Uzair bhai..”, Yalina was staring at him like a hawk and Rehman rued the day he had taught the girl to spot out lies, “Bhabi?”

Rehman kissed Zayan’s cheek and blew a light raspberry on that soft skin making the latter almost cry in laughter. 

“Bhai!”

Yalina gave an olympic level sigh and crossed her arms. 

“What did you do to make all three of them mad?”, she asked finally. 

“Why did you assume I made them mad?”, Rehman asked indignantly. 

Yalina just raised an eyebrow which looked uncannily like something he would do. The girl may be young but he had trained her a bit too well. He couldn’t believe it but he was sympathising with Jameel Jamali of all people, at the moment. 

A teen Yalina must have been quite a handful. 

“It was not my fault—”, he said defensively and let Zayan slobber on his cheek accepting his kisses in turn. Yalina seemed determined to glare at him till he clarified everything. 

“Okay, I may have said something to the army chief in the last meeting which could have been rephrased in a more diplomatic way—”

“So you basically ragbaited the most powerful man in the cabinet and now he is out for your blood. Wasn’t making an enemy out of the ISI enough for one season?”

“In my defence he was being an idiot—”

“Everybody is an idiot if we go by your standards—”

“I am surrounded by idiots! What is my fault in this..”

Zayan squawked and Rehman immediately turned towards him and stroked his curls back with his large calloused hand, tenderly. 

“Of course I am not talking about you, sweetheart. You are an angel”, he said and kissed on top of his head and Zayan, satisfied with the apology, went back to playing with his glasses. 

Yalina shook her head in exasperation but then leaned against the older man’s shoulder, patting her son’s arm in solidarity. 

“Somedays, Rehman bhai, I wonder how Ulfat bhabi managed to keep her head for so long—”

“Your bhabi has had all of you fooled with that angelic disposition. She is worse than me. She only hides it better”, Rehman said quietly, fondness for his wife flooding him like a tidal wave, as was usual whenever Ulfat was mentioned. 

“You will be in the doghouse if I tell her what you said just now..”

“I am already in the doghouse. No, I think I am outside the house, dog or no…”

Yalina laughed. 

Rehman smiled down at the curly head kept against his arm and considered his life for the hundredth time. He may have escaped the ire of his wife and brothers for the time being, hiding with the girl his heart had claimed as his daughter somewhere along the way and her son, but it was a temporary reprieve. 

“Hamza refuses to speak to me. I think I may have finally broken his endless well of patience”, Rehman confessed lightly. 

“And so you decided to kidnap his kid. Novel idea”, Yalina teased, poking his arm. 

“I did no such thing. Zayan can choose for himself and evidently he has great taste”, he sniffed indignantly and smiled at the kid now snuffling closer to his chest, clearly tuckered out from all the excitement. 

“You have slowly manipulated our kid into loving you—”

Yalina’s quiet admission felt like acid inside his veins. The sudden tranquility of the moment was viciously broken and Rehman felt his stomach sink into his knees. Zayan was dozing against him now, his small body a comfortable limp weight against him. 

“Pyaari..”, he began nauseated and guilty but Yalina had looked up at him and there was no reproach in those delicate features. 

Instead only a sudden surge of naked yet fierce affection. 

“You do that to everyone don’t you, Bhai? You did it to Uzair bhai, then bhabi, then the gang, then Lyari, then me, then Hamza and now Zayan..”

“Yalina..”

She ignored him and continued, almost as if talking to herself. 

“At first I had thought it was fear. This strange deference, this attraction. But then I realised it was just love. I don’t think you realise it completely— the power you wield over all of us. It is ridiculous. I should be terrified, seeing my three year old in your arms… I have seen you crush people’s skulls to smithereens”

Rehman swallowed hard. But Yalina ploughed on merciless. Zayan was oblivious and asleep, snuffling quietly against his hammering chest. 

“But I only feel safe. It makes no sense and then makes perfect sense. I guess violence is also a form of love—”, she finished. 

The afternoon light had given way to the chill of the evening. Rehman wrapped his shawl around Zayan and took some time to compose himself. 

“Violence is not love, Yalina. Temperance is. I have suppressed myself for all of you and I shall do it happily for as long as I breathe but unfortunately sometimes the pressure is too high over the powder keg that I have kept buried for years. One nudge too hard and that explosion would take everybody along with it.”

He stroked the stray curl off her face gently, cursory, gentle but not lingering. 

“You should be afraid. You all should be afraid”, he whispered, “But you all are fools. Silly trusting loving fools—”

And my heart. All of my heart. Every filthy undeserving piece of it. 

He couldn’t say the words but he hoped she had heard them nonetheless. 

By the slowly curling smile on Yalina’s lips, he figured she might have. 

“We are all fools in love”, she said wistfully. Rehman sighed and bent slightly to drop a kiss on top of her head. 

They were right when they said daughters would break your heart. 

A sudden noise alerted them to a third presence and Rehman immediately tightened his hold on the baby in his lap, staring at the man in front in complete uncharacteristic trepidation. 

“Using my son as a shield? Low blow, Rehman bhai. Very low blow—”

Hamza said, quirking an eyebrow and wrapping an arm around Yalina who had come up to him. 

“Everything is fair in love and war—”, Rehman shrugged and cupped the back of the toddler’s head. 

“So it would seem”, there was humour in Hamza’s eyes despite his expression not cracking from its strangely inanimate state, evidently still showing traces of righteous anger. 

“Stop heckling him. The man scaled a fifteen feet wall and found out security risks for us and then helped calm down your little hellion”, Yalina slapped his bicep and winked at Rehman conspiratorily. 

“Why the hell would you scale the wall— bhai for god’s sake!”, Hamza pinched the bridge of his nose in a remarkable semblance of his wife. 

“In my defense, I thought your front gates won’t allow me inside.”

Hamza stared at him, bamboozled.

“Why would you ever think that?”, he continued while Rehman carefully handed him a sleeping Zayan. He caressed the boy’s head one last time and twisted around the younger man to slink out of his reach and started to disappear inside the mansion. 

“Bhai! Wait, where are you going?”, Hamza had transferred his sleeping son to Yalina after kissing his head and was following Rehman out. 

“Somewhere that would save me from Ulfat, at least for a few hours—”, he replied, somehow looking dignified even in his clear attempts to flee. 

“Well, good luck with that because Bhabi has stationed men all over the place. And trust me, Lyari is more scared of her than it will ever be of you?”, Hamza sniggered, finally catching up to the older man. 

“And don’t I know it..”, Rehman sighed. 

“Can I at least ask, why you deliberately baited the army chief of all people? You can’t fool me with the idiocy comments. I know very well that you do nothing without careful consideration. You intentionally angered the man— why?”

Rehman pinched the bridge of his nose for the hundredth time that day. 

He had taught the kids a bit too fucking well and now it has come back to bite him in the ass. 

Hamza was standing in front of him almost like an immovable wall. He would not let him go without the truth. Rehman was tired of the cat and mouse anyway. The fear for future consequences had him keep his mouth shut for so long it felt natural to give into his fear and lie through his teeth. 

Hamza’s lionine gaze seemed razor sharp in the evening light. 

Time to face the music. 

Rehman pulled him towards an empty corner of the corridor. He knew that the CCTVs had a blindspot exactly near this alcove. Hamza seemed perplexed and Rehman allowed himself to mourn for exactly five more seconds. 

“I had to redirect his focus from you”, Rehman said quietly. 

“Me?”, Hamza was confused even more. 

“When I gave up the reins to the gang to you and Uzair, both of you had come directly into the ISI’s focus and that of the rangers. I am a politician now— out of their reach to some extent. But you especially are a mystery they couldn’t solve. The general has men looking into your background, your life, with a fine toothed comb and a magnifying glass.”

Hamza was frowning hard now. 

Rehman could feel the gears inside the younger man’s head spin deathly fast. He had always been remarkably quick on his feet and honestly, Rehman was ashamed it had taken him so long to figure it out himself. 

In his defense, he was blinded by the grief of a dead son. 

Maybe history would forgive him for that or maybe not. 

But it was this moment in time that would create a fork in both of their futures. 

Rehman saw the exact moment realisation hit the other man. His face paled so drastically that he almost looked ashen in the pool lighting coming from the glass partitions of the corridor. His hands had started shaking from sheer nerves and it was so overt and unsubtle that it made Rehman cringe from empathy. 

“How… what..”, Hamza was staring at him in pure unbridled terror. 

Rehman resisted the urge to hold the younger man and stroke his hair like one would do to their scared children, with a herculean effort. 

This was not Hamza Ali Mazari anymore. 

And Rehman Baloch was wiser than to touch a highly trained operative who was already in shock. It would be like grazing a radioactive nuclear bomb. 

He could still hear Yalina’s humming filter from the enclosed garden roof. 

“When did you come to know?”, Hamza asked quietly now, having seemingly composed himself somewhat. His gaze was shifty, calculative and the kind of coldly detached that made Rehman’s bones shudder. 

Rehman crossed his arms against his chest, leaning against the glass panel and carefully kept his vision focused outside. 

He couldn’t look at the kid anymore. 

Not into whatever— or rather, whoever Hamza had turned into right now. 

Call him wilfully obtuse. 

But Rehman was so tired. 

“The day after Faizal’s poisoning—”

Rehman still remembered that time vividly. The anxiety, the mad dash to the hospital, the bridge, the sheer rage at the SP for having him down on his knees like a dog to be put down and Hamza. 

Brilliant, fiery, cunning Hamza. 

“I kept thinking— how had you managed to find the LTF office? How did you squeeze the information out of Jamali? The way you handled the situation— almost like a trained personnel running an operation. It took a lot of backtracking and lots of favor before I found the connection.”

He could hear the breathing pattern of the younger man. 

It was deliberate. Intentional. Practiced to an artificial steadiness through sheer determination. 

Suddenly Rehman couldn’t feel anything other than the physical size difference between them. Rehman has defeated bigger men and more in number through sheer fucking will and the repressed volcanic rage that coursed beneath his skin. 

But this time— 

Oh this time he was hopelessly outmatched…

Not with skill. 

But in conviction. 

And pure intention. 

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

He should have anticipated that question but it still hit him with the force of a truck ramming with its full weight right on his face. 

Kill him?

Rehman wouldn’t be able to kill him. 

He couldn’t. 

His achilles heel was bare for the entire world to see.

“I kept thinking back to..Naieem”, the name stuck and coagulated like blood inside his throat, cracking down on his diaphragm with expected agony. He could sense the hitch in Hamza’s breath, finally breaking through that irritatingly robotic rhythm. 

“I was furious. I wanted to kill you. I thought you had left my boy to be slaughtered to gain my trust. But.. I couldn’t keep the thought for long. Call it stupidity or just weakness but I couldn’t.”

Rehman shifted on his feet. 

Had he kissed Ulfat today? 

He couldn’t remember. And it wouldn’t matter because he can never kiss her enough. The scent of her was mixed in his skin till had become him in a primordial way. 

“Rehman—”, Hamza’s voice wavered in the silence between them. 

“Your wife seems to think that I have entranced all of you with my love but it was you— wasn’t it? Hamza Ali Mazari… you have besotted us all. First my kid, then my brother, then my gang, then Yalina, then Ulfat and then, me.”

A half choked voice almost made Rehman turn towards the other man but he controlled himself somehow. He would rather not see into the eyes of the boy he can’t kill and who would, in all probability, kill him, now that his secret was out. 

It was only logical. 

“If you had gone through with that deal, I would have killed you...”

Hamza’s words were poison and Rehman took it with more grace than he probably should have. It hadn’t mattered at the end. Iqbal had found another liaison and had bought the weapons directly from the Americans. 

26/11 had still happened. 

Dusk had melded into night and the shadows tainting the corridor had become taller, casting both of them into darkness. 

If Hamza wanted to kill him, he could do it easily and without a trace. He had seen the former snap people’s necks like they were made out of twigs with the victims barely getting time to utter a single peep. 

Yalina had already gone upstairs with Zayan. The servants were engaged in the opposite side of the house and the security wasn’t allowed inside. 

And then Rehman had humiliated an army general on national media. 

His death could easily be pinned on the Pak Army. 

No one would be any wiser. 

At least Faizal was outside the country. 

“.... and I still would have loved you.”

The words shocked him out of his reverie. 

He startled and turned finally and could see Hamza’s pale drawn out face marked with glistening tracks of tears through the play of lights and shadows coming from outside. He had curled into himself like a stray animal about to be kicked. 

“Hamza…”, Rehman straightened carefully. 

“Jaskirat. It's my name… my—”, he swallowed thickly and turned his own face to the side. As if he couldn’t bear to look at him, at that naked exposure of being skinned alive. 

Rehman felt something warm flood beneath his ribs and envelop his heart in a sticky heavy sort of wrap. 

“Jaskirat…”, he rolled the name in his mouth and decided he liked it. 

Hamza looked exhausted and Rehman realised the weight of keeping a mask had aged the boy ten years in a single moment. 

It made him ache. 

Rehman extended a careful and slow hand towards his face and kept his fingers stilled in the air, inches away from that bearded cheek, looking into his absinthe eyes. 

Jaskirat lowered his head and tilted it to rest on his suspended palm fluttering his eyes closed at the contact. 

Rehman stroked his thumb along the bridge of his cheek and marvelled at the unique path both of them had chosen. A path that had somehow converged and let them meet in the middle. 

Strange were the ways of the world. 

“You didn’t kill me..”, Jaskirat whispered. 

“And you didn’t kill me”, Rehman countered. 

Hamza let out a dry sob and suddenly crumpled on his knees. Rehman gasped and wrapped his arms beneath his shoulders to pull him up, but he felt like dead weight. He sighed painfully and let Jaskirat weep into his stomach, content to run his fingers through that wavy lion’s mane. 

Love was temperance after all.  

Rehman had gone back home and kissed Ulfat so hard the latter had almost stumbled and lost her balance, griping onto him for dear life. When he had finally had mercy on her and they both had come up for air, she had been panting, cheeks red with the effort and lack of breath, jade eyes shining amused and curious— anger completely forgotten. 

“Whatever has gotten into you?”, she had asked, smiling. 

“I don’t know. I am feeling rather alive—”

“You are 30.” Yalina sometimes wondered who she married. Why was this man, a literal gangster, studying at 3 in the morning? And what the hell is he studying? Tactical methods to choke a man? New smuggling routes? “I need you. Here.” She patted the space beside her on the bed.

“I talked to your gynecologist and she said the only way you can get rid of periods.” Hamza finally raised his head. 

Yalina arched an eyebrow, a skeptical smile tugging at her lips. “And? Did she suggest a magic spell? A secret herbal tea from the mountains?”

“A total hysterectomy.”

Yalina’s smile vanished. “Have you actually lost your mind, Hamza?”

“She confirmed it would stop the cycles,” he stated, his tone as flat and pragmatic as if he were discussing replacing a faulty engine part. 

“And I would never be able to have children,” Yalina whispered, the weight of his words finally sinking in.

Hamza didn't blink. “So?”

“So? Hamza, you’ve talked about it since the day we met. You said you wanted a house full of noise. You wanted kids.”

“I do, jaana,” he said, and for a fleeting second, his gaze softened, traveling over her face as if he were memorizing her features. Then, the iron look returned. “We can adopt. The world is full of children who need security like me and a heart like yours.”

“But... but what about having them? Little versions of you and me?”

Hamza set the phone aside and moved toward her, his presence suddenly overwhelming the room. He took her face in his massive, calloused hands, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears that had begun to leak from the corners of her eyes.

“I want a child, Yalina,” he growled, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. “But I don't want a child at the cost of your blood. I will not sit here every thirty days and watch you crumble because of some biological requirement for a person who doesn't even exist yet. You are my reality. They are just a concept. I choose you. Every single time, I choose you.”

Yalina lunged toward him, her breath hitching in a sob as she buried her face in the warm, steady crook of his neck. She clung to him with a desperate, crushing strength, finally understanding the true weight of the man she had married. 

---

Taglist:

girl abbu!hamza who when it was his turn to bond with his baby girl, had her nestled onto his chest whilst the new reality melted into his skin. the previous shadow of the rope he had once tied around his neck had at last been cut for good, when she had wrapped her soft, tiny fingers around his scarred thumb. with the terrorising sucidal thoughts evaporating sealing his own third birth.

girl abbu!hamza who yearns for his wife’s trust like no other. tending to her care after begging yalina again, repeatedly for forgiveness for leaving them during that time and simultaneously for taking him back. drowning repeatedly in the suffocating ‘what ifs’ till his babygirl is back safe in his arms, she soothes and steadies him more than he could express. he takes no day for granted as who other than him knows what it’s like to lose everyone you love with no one else to blame but yourself?

girl abbu!hamza who knew that yalina had decided her baby’s name as dua. the gift from her prayer throughout the years she tormented, her wish when her and zayan were left alone and the part of her that irrevocably loves her hamza had prayed for a final proof of their love. he finds himself emotional again as he can’t hide from the realisation anymore. they are all the answer to his prayers. a sign that maybe waheguru ji had looked at jaskirat and decided that the broken man who had died twice already, has finally sacrificed enough.

girl abbu!hamza who comforts his first born constantly never wanting him to feel replaced, making up for the lost time. though his daughter has a special unique side of him. the rather naive reason he felt somewhat grateful at the birth of his first child being a son was the thought that zayan could’ve handled his death better. he couldn’t stand to think of dua in zayan’s position. reuniting with him had made him realise it’s the latter but he has the rest of his years to make it up to them.

girl abbu!hamza who frequently spends his family time staring at them but specifically her. dua’s eyes resembling harleen and her smile as jasleen’s the similarity had his shattered heart ache. he no longer has to silently pray, now freely expressed his gratitude for allowing him to have another chance to look into the reflection’s of those he can never face again in this lifetime.

girl abbu!hamza who when cradling his baby whispers vows and promises to protect them all with everything he has, he can not rely on another chance. hence spending every moment he can bring a present loving abbu. “sadqay jaavaan aap par, enni pyaari bachhi kis di ae?” he’d coo daily, earning a bright familiar giggle,“haaan! meri! ab nini aa jao, meri dua..abbu tenu hamesha mehfooz rakhan ge.”

girl abbu!hamza who adores her especially when his wife dresses her in pretty pastel onesies and can’t help the huge smile forming when they say ‘daddy’s girl’ and ‘i love my daddy.’ he never truly allowed himself to think he’d deserve to see or hear those words meaningfully directed at him for who he really is.

girl abbu!hamza who spoils his daughter rotten, in all the ways possible. he gives up trying to pretend to resists her demands embarrassingly easily, folding the second those eyes well up and her cute face pouts. but mainly because a single tear from her feels like another personal failure to add to the long list.

girl abbu!hamza who willingly feeds, burps, changes his baby without a fuss, cherishing fatherhood with a tiny bit less guilt than his first experience. he could never complain about her, even when his arms would tire after hours of holding her to a sweet sleep, not when her sticky, grubby fingers would touch his cheeks, lips, yank his beard, even grabbing a fistful of hair with that intense baby grip and pulling it into her mouth.

girl abbu!hamza who would rather be tortured again when he has to suffer with watching powerlessly when she’s sick. he is by her side the entire time with a range of medicines already stocked, “meri dua, meri sohni..abbu hor kise nu takleef vich nahi vekh sakde. tu hi abbu di aakhri umeed ain, meri jaan. tere baghair taan abbu jeen de qaabil vi nahi si.”

girl abbu!hamza who buys her desi gold churiyan remembering how his own sisters had the same when they were born. he also gets matching sets for his beautiful wife, a mini push present given monthly. when they go to get dua’s ears pierced after he bought her a pair of gold flower studs since yalina had been mentioning she had booked an appointment, he couldn’t help the deathly glare at the poor piercer trying to fulfil her job. he over buys beautiful clips and bows, placing them neatly into her thick, wisps of curls she took from both parents. when she’s a little older she decorates his mane the very same way, which he patiently lets her.

girl abbu!hamza who ‘reads’ stories set in a cosy village, though zayan can picture the setting more easily than dua who will only know vancouver, he starts the tale off with a young boy who loved his dear sisters very much, especially when they would argue the exact same as his own do. he couldn’t help swallowing the lump in his throat and his voice cracking slightly on the descriptions of a home he can never return to.

girl abbu!hamza who dreads how fast time passes and how easily she catches him staring now. even noticing a couple of times the way his green eyes would glisten with fresh tears, instead of immediately scolding her when she and zayan would bicker over the silliest of things, his battered heart tearing again at the adorable, normal sibling life mirroring what he used to have. when she had pointed it out once, he simply kissed her forehead, saving his heavy lore for a time when they are able to understand.

girl abbu!hamza who chokes back on his tears when dua wraps her small arms around his neck and whispers that she loves him so much and that he is the best abbu in the whole wide world. he could never truly wipe away the sense of unworthiness because a stubborn, guilt ridden part still views himself as a withered man who barely survived his own sins.

girl abbu!hamza who cherishes every moment, the simple things hold the most meaning, so when zayan and dua get into a fight the pair deem as war, both muttering the most hurtful things their little minds can think of he gives the exact desi lecture his sisters would’ve also rolled their eyes at. “ek doosre ka hath kabhi mat chhodna, tum dono hi abbu ki kul kayenat ho.” he would lovingly say as they would grunt going back to tearing each other’s heads off over the pettiest thing, making him finally feel as if he’s reached his home again.

girl abbu!hamza who would always have to look over his shoulder so without a doubt would do the same for her. after all, she is the reason he was gifted with no longer needing to seek solace in his dreams nightmares to live the third life he used to pathetically, secretly crave.

girl abbu!hamza who hates how fast time passes, his first child and only son moved out and his daughter growing up. now at that early teenage stage where she enjoys her independence, prefers hanging out with her friends more and the occasional crash out here and there. it started when she would stop placing her clips in his hair and applying make up on him completely. losing interest in going to him first for some things as she becomes more of a mummy’s girl, yalina teaches her abt periods, how to do makeup, it’s easier to talk abt her crushes to her also. these little actions hurt him the most because he knows and understands it’s normal. he makes sure to buy her a range of sanitary products he has plenty of experience from buying them for his beautiful wife, spoiling them both with their favourite snacks and has hot water bottles at the ready. (he gets zayan a little smth too, though dua complains that he doesn’t deserve it.)

girl abbu!hamza who despite yalina preparing him over the next few years that it’s normal for dua to have silly crushes and start dating in highschool, he can only see her as his baby remembering the exact feelings he went through when having her in his arms for the first time, watching her wobble her way to him as her first steps, her first word being baba, it had all happened much faster than he wished. yalina warned him that he can not just threaten to annihilate the kids whole family if he dares to thinks about mistreating her would not be able to save him from jail this time. that was the only moment he missed his title and power he had. anyway, even though he kept track of all the people closest to them just in case someone could jeopardise what he has, meant he knew everything about this little bf, he still freaks out in his own way. internally his mind spirals throughout the months passing and dua is still hanging out with this boy, looking less like the casual hangout with a friend that she had told him. eventually when dua and yalina sit him down with a cold glass of water to tell him about her boyfriend of a few months he goes silent, and keeps his face blank. he listens carefully as they take turns telling him information he already knows, and tells dua to bring the boy over. he does tell zayan to be quiet when he makes a smug joke about how protective his abbu looks but would never raise his voice at either of his jaans. he ends up meeting her bf in public as dua insisted for her bfs safety but uses the excuse of finding a nice restaurant they all just have to go to. as much as he worries about her with his own traumatic history, seeing her bf having a clean history and treating her amazingly he would do anything for his daughters happiness so he only really approves from doing his own thorough research from the beginning. he also profusely apologises to yalina once again after seeing the younger her in their daughter. he does have a private heart to heart with dua after kicking zayan out who’s been annoying the duo for the last hour.

“chup kar ja khota” she muttured rolling her eyes aimed at her agitating, somehow elder brother who stole her samosa after scoffing down his own. hamza signaled for zayan to leave them two alone, he only complied to grab his ammi to join him into bullying the pair. where as hamza had listened to enough sibling bickering for the night, that had been one thing that stayed throughout the years. “baat suno meri jaan” he waited for her attention to divert from smiling at her phone to suddenly trying to hide it, “haan..?” she asked, her mind starting to race with the worst possible thoughts, “idhar aja” she felt her heart drop at the serious tone, did he find out her bf sneaked into her room last night and they might have shared a little kiss. ok maybe a make out but her abbu had ruined it by interrupting. as she shifted to the end of the sofa hamza opened his arms for her to nestle into his side. laying her head on his chest as he placed his arm around her shoulders, “main sirf aap ki khushi chahte hain, aur kuch nahi” she looked up to meet his gaze, seeing his sisters in her eyes peering up at him as he continued, “yeh dunya bohot zaalim hai, meri dua..magar aap ke abbu abhi zinda hai. jab tak mere jism mein aakhri saans baaqi hai, aap ko koi gham chhoo nahi sakta, main tuhanu hamesha mehfooz rakhanga” his hand soothingly rubbed her shoulders as she felt tears stinging slightly, “kal ko agar koi bhi baat ho, agar woh aap ka dil dukhaye ya aap ko rulaaye.. toh ek pal bhi wahan mat rukna, aap ka yeh abbu hamesha aap ke saath hai. aap bas mere paas wapas aa jana, abbu sab kuch sambhal lenge.” he meant every word of his vow.

𖠰

a/n: i know i said i would never write spy au & this is why 🤬 sticking to smut again

had this song on repeat, i can’t help but relate every song to them kms

tujhe jeet jeet haaroo

as i win you i lose in losing myself i win you

yeh praan praan varoo

now i live only for you can give my life for you

hay aise main nihaaroo

like this i wish to look at you forever

teri aartee utaaroo

i want to worship you

tere naam se jude hai saare naate

my all relations start, related with your name only

saiyyan

beloved

saiyyan

beloved

anyways this is them after reuniting

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ @zoyslair 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

It wasn't like Hamza wasn't romantic.

Yalina loved Hamza's gestures. She relished in his cute, handmade gifts. Some of which she kept in her room back in her mansion.

Yalina appreciated it. But she wanted more. She didn't just want this soft side of Hamza. She wanted the beast.

Hamza was always careful. Too careful for Yalina's liking. He made sure to be slow, gentle. He never left marks, never manhandled her. It left Yalina aching.

Hamza was a big guy. The size difference between the pair was a lot. Yalina spends her days daydreaming about how good Hamza's thick fingers, adorned with silver rings, would feel wrapped around her delicate, frail throat.

It didn't matter whether pain would be mixed with pleasure. She craved roughness. It didn't make it any better that Hamza was now busy with Sher-E-Baloch duties.

Two years.

Two years of marriage, she thought.

And yet not a single time did he ever stop restraining himself. It annoyed Yalina more than anything else. She wished that for once, for a single moment at least, Hamza wouldn't see her as something fragile, something that could break easily.

She had to take matters into her own hands. Her birthday was coming up. That's when a sinister idea popped up into her brain.

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No. Not even for her birthday was he free. Yalina was tired of Hamza's constant busyness.

Her parents visited. Gave her gifts. Her friends came over. Partied. Left. But her beloved was late.

Knowing Hamza values his men and has them deployed in every corner of the mansion, Yalina decided to retaliate by firing all the men. They listened to her. Not because they found her intimidating. Yalina threatened to complain to Hamza that they weren't doing their job properly, and the men knew Hamza's wrath, and how much he loves his wife.

By midnight, Hamza returned. He panicked when he realized all the guards were gone. He rushed into the house, panting as he searched for his wife.

“Yalina!”

His beloved walked out of the living room, arms crossed, clad in only his shirt. She had a blank expression on her face as she raised a brow at his state.

“Aap chilla kyun rahe ho?” (“Why are you shouting?”)

Hamza paused, panting before dragging a palm down his face, calming down. He stormed up to her, grabbing her into a hug.

“Main darr gaya tha, meri jaan.” (“I was afraid, my love.”)

He pulled back, pressing a kiss against Yalina's forehead.

“Kaha hai yeh guards?! Main unko chhodunga nahi!” (“Where are these guards?! I won't let them off easily!”) He exclaimed, pulling out his phone.

Yalina crossed her arms over her chest again, shrugging. “Maine unko fire kiya.” (“I fired them.”)

Hamza paused, turning his head to face her. “Kya?”

Yalina didn't flinch at Hamza's scrutinizing gaze. “Kyun?”

“Unki koi zarurat nahi hai.” (“They're of no use.”)

Hamza's eyes widened at her audacity. He clenched his phone tighter, stepping closer. “Zarurat nahi?! Yalina tum pagal ho gayi ho kya?!” (“Of no use?! Yalina have you gone mad?!”)

Yalina shoved him, her anger taking over. “Hamza tum mere shauhar ho! You're the one who's supposed to protect me! Tum toh aaj kal ghar bhi nahi aate ho! Aaj kya din hai pata hai?!” (“Hamza you're my husband! You're the one who is supposed to protect me! You don't even come home these days! Do you even know what day it is today?!”)

Hamza paused.

Oh shit.

“Tumhara birthday.”

Yalina began clapping, a smile filled with pain spread across her face. “Wah! At least Sher-E-Baloch ko apni biwi ka janmdin toh yaad aagya!” (“Wah! At least the Sher-E-Baloch remembered his wife's birthday!”)

Hamza rubbed his temples, sighing. “Yalina, dekho, main bohot busy tha, and you shouldn't have fired-”

Yalina didn't wait. She stormed toward their shared bedroom, slamming the door shut. Hamza groaned, before following her. He barged into the room, shutting it before walking up to Yalina, turning her around to face him.

“Kya chahiye? Aaj jo bhi maangon, main tujhe dunga.” (“What do you want? Whatever you ask tonight, I'll give it to you.”)

Yalina looked up into his eyes, averting her gaze for a split second before looking back at him. “I need you to be rough.”

Hamza raised a brow, confused.

Yalina pulled him close. “I need you to fuck me senseless. Fuck me like the beast you are. Don't restrain yourself.”

Hamza groaned, closing his eyes. “I can't. Galti se agar maine tujhe-”

Yalina cupped his face. “Kuch nahi hoga. I will be fine. Now fuck me. I want your cock buried deep inside my cunt.”

Hamza let out a low growl before completely letting go of any control he had left. He leaned down, slamming his lips against Yalina's in a passionate, almost bruising kiss. Yalina reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

Hamza shrugged his jacket off without pulling away from the kiss. He sucked on Yalina's lips like his life depended on it.

His lips left hers when he removed his pathani suit, throwing it aside before lifting Yalina into his arms, throwing her recklessly onto the bed before hovering above her.

Hamza grabbed her wrists before pinning them above her head with one hand, while the other made its way to palm her breasts through the thin fabric of his shirt.

With one sharp tug, he ripped the shirt off of her, leaving her bare beneath him. He had a predatory glint in his eyes as they raked over her figure. No matter how many times he made love to her, seeing her naked body made him go insane every time.

Yalina arched her back as Hamza began toying with her nipples. Hamza admired his precious little wife as he moved his attention to the other nipple.

Hamza let go of Yalina's wrists, only to bury his face in between her legs. He began licking her pussy, eating her out like a starved man. Heat rushed to Yalina's core as she gripped Hamza's hair, pushing his face further into her wet cunt.

Yalina bucked her hips against his face as he circled his tongue around her sensitive little clit. He looked up, his lips curving up into a small smirk as he observed how worked up Yalina was. He increased the pace, making Yalina mewl out his name.

“Hamza…! Ngh…”

Yalina curled her toes as she chased her impending climax. Just then, Hamza pulled back, his moustache and thick beard covered in her juices.

Yalina panted, her breasts rising up and down as she did. Hamza went over to the closet before pulling out one of Yalina's dupattas. He hovered above her before wrapping the dupatta around her eyes, using it as a blindfold.

“Hamza?” Yalina's voice trembled with anticipation.

“You wanted rough? You get rough.”

Without another word, Hamza thrust his thick fingers into her wet cunt, curling them up so that they hit the spot. Yalina moaned loudly, moving her hips for friction. Hamza pulled his fingers out almost completely before thrusting them back in.

The cold metal of the silver rings pressed against her pussy as his fingers continued their relentless actions on her cunt.

Hamza hit that one spot continuously, making Yalina arch her back. Yalina felt her orgasm building up as Hamza increased the speed of his fingers.

Just before Yalina could cum, Hamza pulled his fingers out, staring at them in awe as they were covered in her liquids.

Yalina didn't know what was happening. She was still reeling from her almost orgasm, so much so that she didn't feel Hamza moving up the bed until he shoved his fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself on them.

Yalina moaned around his fingers, licking them clean. Hamza pulled his fingers out of her mouth before getting up from the bed. Yalina felt hollow in the absence of her husband's warm body beside her, but that feeling was soon replaced with shock as she felt his thick cock pressed against her entrance.

With a brutal thrust, Hamza buried himself in Yalina's tight, swollen pussy. Yalina gasped, gripping the sheets as she squeezed around his cock. Hamza threw his head back, relishing the feeling of her tight little cunt squeezing his cock.

Hamza began pistoning his cock in and out of her, his large palms finding her hips. Every thrust was deep and slow, stretching Yalina out. Then, he began fucking her faster.

One hand went from her hips to her throat. Yalina let out a shocked gasp as she felt Hamza's fingers squeezing her neck gently. Even when Hamza was rough, he didn't want to hurt her.

Yalina's eyes rolled back as Hamza kept hitting her spot with his cock. She wished she could see the expression on his face, the way his face contorted as he fucked her.

Hamza's thrusts increased. Yalina's hands made their way to his shoulders as she gripped them, so tight that she left nail marks on his back.

“Hamza! I'm cumming!”

Hamza pulled his cock out with a wet pop.

Yalina let out a whine as she was just about to reach her climax when Hamza pulled his cock out of her. Hamza groaned, his cock throbbing for release.

Hamza thrust his cock back in, this time aiming to fill her up with his cum. Yalina's sounds of pleasure filled the bedroom.

“Yes! Yes… Hamza, please! Let me cum! Gosh! Ngh…!”

His fingers moved to her clit, rubbing the small nub of nerves in circles. It drove her crazy as she arched her back up and down, writhing. Hamza held her down with one hand, forcing her to feel the pleasure of his cock hitting her spot while his fingers toyed with her clit.

Yalina felt like she was close to her climax again. She begged Hamza to let her cum, to let her finally reach her high.

With a final thrust, Hamza came into her pussy, filling her womb up with his seed. Yalina reached her climax, her moans toning down and her breath becoming more even.

Hamza pulled out, but he was far from done.

He flipped Yalina onto her stomach, forcing her to push her ass up in the air. He thrust into her pussy from the back, one hand pushing her head down into the pillow.

The new position hit her sensitive spot in a new angle, making her see stars. She was helpless under Hamza. He smacked her plump ass.

“Aaj ke baad mere aadmiyon ko mere ijazat ke bagair kaam se nikalwao gi?” (“Will you fire my men without my permission hereafter?”)

Yalina was too caught up in her pleasure to answer Hamza's question. His hand met her ass once again. “Jawaab do, meri jaan.”

“Nahi! Main… Aisa kabhi nahi karungi!” (“No! I… Won't do it again!”)

Hamza smacked her ass again, this time for fun. He pounded into her from the back, reaching his second climax. But before he could cum inside of her, he pulled out.

He yanked Yalina back, forcing her on her knees, facing him. He removed the dupatta from her eyes. She adjusted to the light of the bedroom, but before she could process anything, Hamza thrust his thick cock into her mouth.

She groaned around his length, gagging around him. He didn't stop. His tip hit the back of her throat as he began thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth.

Yalina's eyes rolled back as she took his length. Hamza pulled out, before stroking his cock in front of her face. He came all over her face, some of his cum dripping down her jaw and onto her tits.

Hamza grabbed a tissue before wiping her face, throwing the tissue aside carelessly. Yalina thought this was over, before Hamza pushed her back onto the bed. Hamza's lips crashed onto her as he slid his cock back into her pussy. Yalina moaned into Hamza's lips.

Hamza held her wrists above her head with one hand, his lips never leaving hers. His hips moved with precision. He was not going to leave the bed until he filled her up with his kids.

Yalina wrapped her legs around his waist, making him thrust deeper in a new angle. Sounds of skin slapping against skin was echoing in the bedroom.

Hamza reached his climax, filling Yalina up with his thick, hot cum. Hamza's release was quickly followed by Yalina's, making her squeeze around his cock.

“I want to see you swollen and full of my kids, Yalina.”

His words shot a heat straight to her core. Yalina bit her lip, overstimulated but desperately needing her husband.

Hamza laid down on his back, pulling Yalina onto his lap. Her back was facing him as she slid down on his cock. She bounced up and down on his length, every movement eliciting a moan from the pair.

Hamza's hands guided her, slamming her down on his cock. Obscene sounds filled their ears as Hamza began thrusting upward.

“Gosh, you're so small in my arms, Yalina. I could break you so easily. Mmh… Fuck.”

Hamza began kissing her neck, biting and leaving hickeys all over. Yalina was too lost in riding Hamza to respond to him. All she was focused on was pleasure. Her eyes rolled back as she slid down on him for one last time, his cock shooting hot cum into her womb.

Hamza lifted her off of him, watching in awe as his cum, his seed, dripped out of her. Hamza caressed her cheek as he analyzed her face, her half lidded eyes.

“Yalina, maaf kardo agar dard hua toh.” (“Yalina, forgive me if I hurt you.”)

Yalina shook her head, opening her eyes completely to look up at her husband. “Accha tha. Dard nahi tha. Thank you, Hamza.”

Hamza smiled gently before lifting her up in his arms and carrying her to the bathroom. He sat her down in the bathtub before filling it with water and her favourite soap.

Hamza sank into the water beside her, holding his dear wife close before kissing the top of her head. Yalina fell asleep in his arms, and he had to dry her off before putting on a fresh pair of pajamas on her.

He gently dried her hair with a towel before getting into bed beside her. Yalina, exhausted from their activities together, nuzzles into Hamza's broad chest in her sleep, muttering something about not getting enough gifts.

Hamza chuckled, kissing her forehead before pulling her close, quickly drifting off to sleep.

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