The Mehendi function had come to an end, leaving behind the soft echoes of laughter, music, and the scent of fresh henna lingering in the air. Aisha sat on the swing in her room's balcony, the cool night breeze gently playing with her hair as it carried the faint fragrance of marigolds. The intricate patterns of mehendi on her hands were slowly drying, darkening as they set. She admired the delicate designs, a small smile playing on her lips as she recalled the teasing and banter of her cousins during the evening.
The sound of the door opening drew her attention. She turned to see Omar stepping in, carrying a plate of food in one hand. His gaze softened as he saw her sitting there, wrapped in the serenity of the night.
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