I wait for him at the terrace pacing from right to left and left to right. 

Zorawar is yet nowhere to be seen and I'm here dressed in a black backless sharara set.

The night is quiet on the terrace of the shadi wala ghar. Soft fairy lights still hang from the railing, glowing faintly against the dark. A cool breeze moves through my hair and brushes over the skin of my bare arms. I stand near the edge, looking out at the city lights far below, when I feel Zorawar come up behind me.

His chest presses lightly against my back. One of his hands settles on my waist, firm and warm through the fabric of my dress. I stiffen a little.

"Zorawar…" I start, voice soft.