The rickshaw wheels scraped and rattled over the uneven road, like they were about to fall off. Rahat sat awkwardly, back pressed against one side, as far from her as the narrow seat allowed. But it didn’t help. Every time the rickshaw jerked, their arms brushed.

Roshni didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe she was just good at pretending.

"Are you seriously gonna fall out or what?" she muttered, nudging him with her elbow.

"I’m fine," Rahat mumbled, staring ahead like the road was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

"You're not," she said, shifting closer. "I’m not a bomb, Rahat."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

She tilted her head a little. "You were okay back at the room."

"That was different."

"Was it?"

He didn’t answer.

The rickshaw pulled to a stop near the old tea stall, where three guys were already sitting—Asif, Naim, and Farhan. They were sipping tea, talking trash, laughing too loud. Normal.

Then they saw them.

Asif’s laugh stopped halfway, like someone hit pause. "Wait… is that… Rahat?"

Farhan raised a brow. "Bro. That’s Roshni."

Naim squinted. “No way. No freaking way.”

Roshni got off the rickshaw without flinching. She didn’t wait for Rahat. He followed, head slightly down, heart thumping like a drum in his ears.

The boys stood up as they approached. No one said anything at first. Just stared. At Rahat. Then at Roshni. Then at their hands.

Roshni didn’t let go.

Asif broke the silence. “What’s going on?”

Rahat tried to say something, but nothing came out.

Farhan looked from one to the other. “Why are you two… like this?”

Roshni shrugged. “We just came to get some tea.”

"Together?" Naim asked. "Since when do you two even talk?”

There was a pause.

Roshni didn’t answer right away. She looked at Rahat once, then pinched the skin near his lower back. Not hard. Just enough.

Rahat jolted slightly. “W-We… we’re kind of… together.”

Asif blinked. “Together like… dating together?”

Another pause.

Roshni crossed her arms. “Yeah. For a while now.”

Naim’s mouth opened but no words came out.

Farhan stared like Rahat had suddenly grown a second head. “Bro. Are you serious?”

Rahat nodded, barely.

“How long is ‘a while’?” Asif asked, voice sharper now.

“Since last year,” Roshni said like it was nothing. “We kept it quiet.”

Asif looked stunned. “Since last year?! And you never said anything?”

"I didn’t think you'd believe me anyway," Rahat muttered.

Roshni looked at the group calmly. “I left home this morning. There was a situation. I had nowhere else to go.”

“You ran away?” Naim said.

"Yeah. And I came to Rahat. Because I trust him."

Asif ran his hand through his hair. “This is wild. Like actual insane.”

“It’s not that deep,” Roshni said. “I’m just not marrying some bald fifty-year-old bank manager my stepmom picked out.”

Farhan gave a low whistle. “Damn.”

“And now you're living with Rahat?” Naim asked, still trying to wrap his head around it.

“Temporarily,” she replied, but her tone said she wasn’t sure how temporary.

Asif shook his head. “Man, I don’t get it. I thought Rahat was just the guy who ghosted group chats and built websites all night.”

Rahat shrugged. “I still do.”

Roshni gave him a small glance, then looked at the others. “We’re planning to go to the registry office today.”

Dead silence.

Asif raised both eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Rahat said, voice low.

“You two are getting married?”

“That’s what I said.”

Farhan laughed nervously. “This is messed up. Are you pregnant or something?”

Roshni’s stare shut him up fast.

“I’m doing this for me. Not because someone made me. And definitely not because of that.” She pulled a chair and sat like she belonged there. “You don’t have to support it. Just don’t mess it up.”

The guys exchanged looks.

Asif slowly sat down, still wide-eyed. “I feel like I just watched a plot twist live.”

“I didn’t plan this either,” Rahat muttered.

“Yeah,” Naim said, still confused. “We noticed.”

Roshni tapped her fingers on the table. “We’ll go after this. Registry office. Just wanted to drop by first.”

Farhan shook his head with a grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Same,” Rahat said under his breath.

But when he looked at Roshni, sitting across from him, calm and stubborn and wild as hell — he couldn’t imagine it being anyone else.

“You’re kidding, right?” Farhan asked, looking around like someone was going to laugh and say "just kidding."

Rahat didn’t say anything. Just scratched his wrist, then crossed his arms tight over his chest.

“We need two witnesses,” Roshni said. Calm. Direct.

Asif blinked. “For… what exactly?”

“Nikah. Registry. Marriage. Take your pick.”

The three boys looked at each other.

“You’re dead serious?” Naim asked, half-whispering like someone might hear them.

Roshni nodded once. “I didn’t run from home for a picnic.”

Farhan whistled low. “Bro, this your idea or hers?”

“She’s the one who proposed,” Rahat muttered, eyes still low.

“Yo,” Asif pointed, “we’re not just walking into a kazi office like it’s a tea stall.”

“You’re not being asked to marry us,” Roshni said. “Just to stand. And maybe smile a little.”

Naim sighed. “You’re treating us later.”

“Yeah,” Farhan said. “Dinner. Big dinner. And biryani, not that cheap khichuri.”

The Kazi office was just off the alley beside the old mosque. A rusted sign hung crooked on the gate:

"Marriage & Documentation – Kazi Md. Amurovi"

Inside, it smelled like old files and cheap floor cleaner. A fan spun with a loose screech above them.

Kazi Amurovi was seated behind a wooden desk that had clearly seen better days. White beard, thick glasses, and that look of someone who’s filled out too many forms for too many people.

He squinted at them as they walked in.

“You two?”

Roshni nodded. Rahat gave a small bow without knowing why.

“You’ve brought witnesses?”

The boys raised their hands half-heartedly.

“Hmm.” He reached for a drawer, pulled out a dusty register and a pen.

“Documents.”

Roshni stepped forward. “Here’s mine.”

He looked it over.

“Roshni Rahman… Eighteen. You just crossed the line. Good.”

Then he looked at Rahat. “Yours?”

Rahat handed his over, trying not to look nervous.

“Kazi Hossain… Harun’s boy?” the Kazi asked, squinting closer.

Rahat nodded.

“Hmm. Harun used to run a printing press, didn’t he? Brave man. Quiet, but decent. His death… was unfortunate.”

There was a pause.

“He would’ve liked to see this day,” the Kazi muttered, mostly to himself. “Your eyes look a bit like his.”

Rahat pressed his lips together, unsure what to say.

“Well, then,” the Kazi sighed. “Let’s not drag it longer.”

He clicked open the pen and started filling the register.

“You’re both adults. That’s the law’s concern. Though marriage, my children, isn’t about age—it’s about weight. You ready to carry it?”

“I am,” Roshni said before he even finished the question.

He looked to Rahat. “You?”

A beat of silence.

“I… I think so,” Rahat said.

The Kazi let a faint smirk slip. “You’ll learn.”

He turned a few pages, took out the Nikah form, and began writing names, dates, father’s name, addresses. His pen scraped slow across the lines.

“Do you want both legal and religious?” he asked, still writing.

“Yes,” Roshni replied. “We want both. Nikah and paper.”

“Hmm. Modern generation… trying to balance it all.”

He looked up now, voice dropping into its official tone.

“Roshni Rahman, do you accept Rahat Hossain as your husband?”

“I do.”

Her voice was clear. No hesitation.

“Rahat Hossain, do you accept Roshni Rahman as your wife?”

Rahat looked down, then sideways, then at her. She gave the faintest smile. Not teasing. Just… there.

“I… accept.”

The Kazi nodded once.

“Pen,” he said, passing it to Roshni.

She signed in a quick, practiced way.

Then Rahat took it. His hand trembled just a bit. The signature didn’t look pretty, but it was real.

The boys took turns.

Asif signed fast, like he was writing an excuse note. Naim adjusted his name twice. Farhan added a heart next to his name and got smacked on the back of the head.

“All done.” The Kazi stamped the paper and looked up again. “It’s official. May Allah bless you both. Don’t take it lightly, son. Your father wouldn’t have.”

Rahat nodded, eyes lowered. He didn’t say anything.

Outside, the sun was beginning to set. Streetlights started flickering on, one by one.

“Well damn,” Asif said, stretching his arms. “So it actually happened.”

Roshni tucked her hair behind one ear. “Told you we weren’t joking.”

Farhan clapped Rahat on the shoulder. “So when’s the baby due?”

“Shut the hell up,” Rahat mumbled.

They all laughed.

“Dinner?” Naim asked, grinning.

They ended up in a crowded biryani joint near the terminal. The plates were plastic, the water tasted metallic, and the food came fast.

“You’re paying,” Asif said mid-bite.

“Split bill,” Rahat muttered.

Roshni sipped from a 7-Up and said, “I’m the one who ran from home. Shouldn’t I get a discount?”

Farhan leaned in, grinning. “So what’s next? Honeymoon in Barishal?”

“I’m going back to study,” Roshni said with a glare. “Unlike you jobless freaks.”

That shut them up for a moment.

Then someone laughed. And it all felt weirdly normal.