Behind the Rose Covered Fence

by whimsicalwombat

What if Samar's parents had never been killed, and Shahin had never turned against them? What if Aram's parents had never moved to the States before he was born? What if they grew up neighbours, family friends even, and Aram fell in love with her from the moment he realised he could see over the rose covered fence? And what if, all Samar wanted, was to leave for somewhere else?

4. The Wondering

A/N as previously mentioned, this one comes with a warning for violence. It's mostly a fistfight and some unpleasant name calling, that ends up in one character having a black eye after a strike to the face. That's pretty much the total extent of it, but if that's still not for you, you're welcome to skip it. That scene is between the first /*/*/*/* and just before the second one. The rest of the chapter is safe. If anyone wants to skip the whole thing and would like a summary of everything else that happens instead, please feel free to just ask :)

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1998

Samar's foot tapped anxiously against the worn carpet without her even realising it as she stood in the doorway to the bookstore, staring out into the dusky evening sky, and waiting... Waiting for Shahin to come and walk her home as he was supposed to, now that she worked at Aram's store. It had been long enough, nearly a month now in fact, and though there had been a couple of occasions where Shahin had forgotten the sudden, new change in routine on his way home from school and had to double back past the store to collect her –or the one time he had been delayed after getting distracted playing soccer after school with his friends- he had always turned up eventually. Sure, those times he was late, but he had been there.

Tonight, on the other hand, was later than he had ever been before, and Samar was growing nervous.

And nervous not only because he was supposed to be walking her home, but nervous because their parents were away for a couple of days visiting their own parents, and Samar was supposed to be looking after Shahin just as Shahin was supposed to be looking after her.

'I'm not letting you walk home by yourself,' Aram's soft voice broke through her mind's anxious wanderings. 'It's getting dark, and I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about you walking along by yourself at night, it's not safe.' Samar's lip quirked up ever so slightly in response, but Aram's words didn't really register in her brain.
'Where do you think he is?' She quietly asked instead. Samar continued staring out the door, watching for any figure on the approach who even in the shadows, might vaguely resemble her brother... But there was no-one.
'I'm not sure,' Aram murmured softly back, coming to stop by her side. 'I hate to say it, but he's fifteen, Samar. Guaranteed, he's a very tall, wide built fifteen year old who already looks scarier than I do so I doubt anyone's hurt him, if that's what you're worried about,' he paused for a moment, hoping that might reassure her, 'but he's still a teenager.'
'We're teenagers,' Samar muttered back, though the hint of drollness in her voice gave Aram some confidence in that he was managing to ease her nerves.
'Yeah, but the difference is,' Aram observed, tilting his head slightly, 'you're eighteen, and I'm nineteen. We're adults, technically, whereas Shahin's still in school. Maybe he just got caught up playing soccer with his friends again, and he's at one of their houses like he used to do after school before you started working here, because he still hasn't adjusted to the new routine yet. Maybe's he's enjoying the freedom of not having your parents around for a couple of days, like a normal teenager.' Samar's eyes snapped to his, and she let out a wry smile.
'Are you suggesting that you and I are not normal?' She laughed. Aram gave a nonchalant shrug.
'Why would I want to be normal?' He asked, grinning. Though, as he thought about it, there was some truth in that. Normal young people their age, in their town, wouldn't be such close friends –or friends at all, for that matter. It simply wasn't allowed. In fact, it was illegal -or at least, the scandalous romance it would be mistaken for, given the strange nature of their friendship, was illegal. The only reason they got away with it was because they were discreet, and because their parents feigned ignorance –not that Samar and Aram knew that second part. As far as they knew, their collective parents didn't know a thing.

'But back on topic,' Aram spoke softly again, 'you can't walk home by yourself.'
'I can't walk home with you either,' Samar countered, albeit gently. 'What if someone sees us and gets the wrong idea?' Aram bit his lip; that thought had occurred to him too. In short, they were stuck between a rock and a hard place, weighing up which was riskier.
'It's not far,' he tried to reason aloud with himself, more than her. 'Maybe nobody will see us. I'd rather risk that than you walking alone, and getting hurt. At the very least, I could walk a few steps behind you so we don't look like we're walking together, but I can still see you and make sure you're safe.' Samar gave a small sigh of exasperated defeat, that Aram took to mean she agreed with the plan, and then reached for her bag.

'You don't think I could handle things, myself?' She asked drolly, swinging the worn, canvas bag strap over her shoulder. Aram paused before responding, eyeing her slim frame up and down, and not sure whether to take the question as serious or joking. In truth, he was cautious; Samar was tall, but her frame was narrow. She was far lighter than him, and even Aram knew he was on the gangly, skinnier side, without wondering how Samar would compare to a more intimidating, heavier-set man. She also had no strategic fight or weapons training on her side to counter that difference in size either. What she did have, and what Aram also knew, was stubbornness and fire. She was never the kind of person who wouldn't at least try to fight back.
'I don't think you'd give up without a fight, that's for sure,' Aram muttered, reaching around her slightly to switch off the one store light that remained on. He held the door open for her, allowing Samar to step through out onto the street before he stepped out behind her, pausing only to turn and lock the door behind them both.
'Nice save,' Samar mused, giving him a wry smile that earned her an eyeroll of mock exasperation in response. 'Ok, come on. I need to figure out where Shahin has gone.'

/*/*/*/*

'Hey!' A furious voice came from somewhere to their left as Samar and Aram made the final turn onto their street. An unfamiliar, middle-aged man who was easily twice Aram's size, came practically charging towards them, his eyes fixated intently, and terrifyingly on Samar. A breath caught in her throat and she froze for a moment, then slowly stepped backwards, edging ever so slightly further down their street and away from the angry man as he came ever closer. 'What do you think you're doing out here, you tramp?' The man's voice echoed in their ears again. Aram scuttled forwards, quickly closing that few steps gap between them and then instinctively trying to take one step further in front of her. One hand quickly came to rest against her arm, as if to gently steer Samar away and signal that they should make a run for the rest of their street towards their respective houses.

But Samar didn't budge.

She ducked as the man charged straight into them, pushing Aram aside and then taking a swing at her. Aram tried to push back but barely succeeded, the man being too fuelled by adrenaline and whatever inner rage had him so intent on targeting Samar and ignoring him.
'You filthy tramp,' the man screamed in Samar's face again, as he tightly clutched her arm. Samar could practically feel her blood boiling inside; she had no idea who this man was, nor why she was suddenly the target of his rage, but his warm, vile breath in her face made her recoil, and she wrenched his arm from his grasp. 'I knew you were trouble, even before I married you,' the man spat at her, 'what do you think your father's going to say when I tell him you've been wandering off with some other man?' Samar and Aram immediately swapped cautious glances, knowing exactly what was happening; the angry man was clearly mistaking her for the wife that he cared so little for, he could barely recognise her. Unfortunately, and as they both knew as they swapped those glances, if the man was so determined that Samar was his missing, young wife, there was little to nothing they could say to convince him to the contrary... Though that didn't mean Aram wasn't going to try.
'Hey, don't talk to her like that,' he tried to protest, 'she's not your wife.' The man's gaze faltered from Samar just long enough to shoot Aram a particularly filthy glare.
'Oh, so you're the man she's running off with, are you?' The man spat again, 'you're the one who doesn't know better than to steal another man's wife rather than respect what isn't your property?'
'She's not your wife,' Aram's voice rose in volume, 'and she's certainly not your property. Leave her alone.'
'Come with me,' the man ordered, shifting his attention back to Samar and tightly taking her by the elbow once again.
'Hey-' Samar argued, digging her feet into the ground so that he couldn't pull her along, and trying to wrench back her arm... But the man cut her off.
'-Quiet, woman,' he snarled, tugging at her arm... But Samar fought back. With her free hand, she tried to swing forwards, striking the man's jaw. She gasped in pain at the impact on her knuckles, but didn't stop. The man reached out, clamping down on her free flying arm and holding both, but that only prompted Samar to start kicking instead. She kicked his shins, kneed his belly, anything she could think of and reach for to inflict damage that might make him let go of her. Aram joined in within a split second. Grasping the man's hands and desperately trying to pull him off Samar.
'Leave...' Aram growled between kicks and pulls of his own. 'Her... Alone.'
'Fine,' the man hissed, letting go of both of them and shooting Samar what was easily the filthiest glare she had ever seen, 'see if he can look after you as well as I could, you little piece of filth. Just wait and see how long it takes before your father starts looking for you.' A breath caught in both their throats as the man, just for a second, appeared to turn away... And then he stopped. He turned back, his hand open but swinging back with such speed and momentum from the quick turn that they couldn't react quick enough to duck. Aram's eyes went wide and he tried desperately to push his way in front of Samar but he wasn't quite fast enough. The older man's hand collided with side of Samar's face, striking across her cheek just as his knuckles curled into her eye. Samar let out another gasp –far louder than the last- at the pain, and her knees crumpled where she stood, the force having nearly knocked her over entirely. Aram turned, his automatic instinct to grab Samar before she fell and hold her up, rather than to chase down the man who had already turned on his feels muttering on about 'filthy tramps' and striking him back.

Tears welled up in Samar's eyes at the pain and quickly rolled one after the next down her cheek. The redness around her cheek and eye from the impact was already darkening to a light purple, and Samar blinked far too fast, trying to unblur her vision. She tried to disentangle herself from Aram's arms, but stumbled... And so he held on.

'Hey,' he murmured softly, 'I got you.' He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding Samar close for a moment; 'it's ok, I got you. Come on, I need to take you home.'

Slowly but surely, Aram guided her down the street, holding her up all the while. His eyes took constant, furtive glances sideways at her walking beside him; he was desperate to be able to comfort her, to be able to tend to her puffy eye right there on the spot rather than hurry her along, but he couldn't... Not right there, in the middle of the street, where anyone who heard the noise of the fight could look out their front windows and see them together –exactly as they shouldn't have been in the first place. So instead, he guided her along.

No answer came to the frenzied knocks on Samar's front door, and Aram paused again, cringing at the dilemma. He stared at Samar beside him; she was determined not to look too unsettled, amazingly enough, but the swelling around her eye was increasing, the trails of tears still glistened down her cheeks under the moonlight, and she was furiously biting her lip and gritting her teeth in the attempt to stop herself from thinking about the pain. Her eyes were also slightly glazed and wandering, and Aram's brow furrowed in determination for what he had to do next.

'Come on,' he murmured again. 'I'm not leaving you on your own.' Aram took her hand again, gently leading Samar around the rose-covered front fence, through the gate, and back to his own place next door.

'Aram?' His mother Mehri's voice called out from inside the living room, at the sound of the front door opening, 'you're home late.' Aram didn't respond as he cautiously made his way down the entry hall into his parents' home, with Samar right behind him... Their faces changed instantly from curiosity to wariness the second Aram and Samar appeared in front of them.
'Before you freak out,' Aram hurriedly began, 'I can explain-' both his parents simply blinked at the sight of Samar's puffy eye, stunned for a second at the turn of events '-Shahin didn't come to the store and then a crazy guy tried to drag Samar away and then Shahin didn't answer the door at Samar's place and I'm not leaving her on her own like this-'
'-Aram,' Mehri softly interjected, cutting off her son's terrified, breathless rambling.
'-No,' Aram anxiously shook his head, 'Mother, I think she might have a concussion, I can't leave her on her own next door.' Aram's parents exchanged wary glances; having Samar stay there overnight with them was risky but they too, could see clearly that Samar was barely holding herself together, and they certainly weren't going to leave the daughter of their neighbours and dear friends, in a situation like that... They just had to handle it carefully.
'Ok,' Aram's father nodded slowly, and Aram took a deep breath of relief, 'but she stays in the spare room at the opposite end of the house, and you leave your mother to tend to her, ok?' Aram gave a reluctant nod in response, as Mehri took Samar gently by the arm and guided her to sit down in one of the arm chairs.
'She needs ice,' he hurriedly added, remembering the first aid facts Samar had once rattled off to him oh so matter of factly years earlier, 'and you have to do that thing where you see if her eyes can follow your finger-'
'-I know,' his mother said softly, offering him a small smile as she raised one hand in a gentle, calming gesture. 'Go make up the spare bedroom, and I'll look after Samar.'

/*/*/*/*

When Aram returned to the living room a little while later, he was surprised to see Samar still there in the armchair, quiet as she held a bag of frozen vegetables wrapped in a tea towel to her eye.

His mother was nowhere to be seen.

'How are you feeling?' Aram asked, his soft voice floating across the room from the doorway to where Samar sat. She glanced up from where she had been staring miserably at the carpet, and offered him a tiny smile.
'Tired,' she murmured back, 'but I think I'll be ok.' Aram quickly panned his gaze around the room, checking to make sure that for that moment, his parents weren't watching, before darting across the room to crouch down in front of the low arm chair, and brush the loose strands of Samar's curly hair off her face and off the ice pack.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered, as his fingertips brushed softly over hers where they held the tea towel to her eye. A breath caught in Samar's throat as they did so; she was far more than just tired. She was tired, she was miserable, she was shaken, and she was angry; despite her love of discreetly rebelling against the rules she so hated, this was the first time that reality had come back to bite her quite so hard. But more than any of that, she was more grateful than Aram could possibly imagine.
'It's not your fault,' she insisted –albeit quietly- and shook her head as well as she could without aggravating the pain in the right hand side of her face any more so, 'and it might have been worse if you hadn't insisted on walking with me... Thank you.'
'Don't mention it,' Aram replied even more quietly, his voice barely audible. His eyes studied her miserable expression and the slumping of her shoulders.. They studied the way her dark hair kept tumbling forwards, framing the soft features of her face... They studied the one, wide, golden brown eye that wasn't covered by the tea towel, and the fingertips curled softly around the other. He too was shaken, by the fact that she was hurt, and even more so by the idea of just how much worse it could have been. Without even thinking about it, Aram's fingertips brushed softly against hers once more... And they rested there, as he stared up at her face. Samar studied his expression in equal quiet; she could see the fear on his face that easily rivalled her own, and she could see the caring warmth in his eyes that made her wonder if just saying thank you was enough.

It certainly didn't feel like enough.

But she didn't know what else to say.

'Your mother's just finding me some other clothes to sleep in...' Samar trailed off, breaking the silence but unsure what else to do. She stared back at him, a strange, almost longing feeling churning in her gut the longer his fingers sat there, softly intertwined with hers.
'Good...' Aram bobbed his head contemplatively as if his mind wasn't really in the conversation. His spare hand took hers, helping her rise slowly from the arm chair until she stood in front of him... Barely inches from him. 'You need to get some sleep.' Samar could feel her heart thumping in her chest, and she was acutely aware of each and every breath they both took in the tiny space between them. Almost as if she wasn't even controlling it, her spare hand came up again from where it had fallen back to her side a moment earlier, and it came to rest gently against his cheek. Each and every one of the tiny, coarse hairs of his stubble, prickled softly against her palm and made a tiny smile tug at the corners of her lips.
'So do you...' She breathed, suddenly wondering if reaching ever closer to him was what she should be doing... And yet somehow, it felt like exactly what she was supposed to be doing. Aram's eyes fell closed as the warmth of her soft lips came to rest against his cheek –just for a split second- and she kissed him there. Reluctantly she pulled away again, but only just. She lingered for one moment longer, her eyes crinkled adoringly. For a moment, Samar wondered what it meant that she had just done what she did... But then, she forced herself to step back.

...His parents could come back into the room at any moment... And they weren't supposed to be left alone together.

She offered him one more tiny smile, before bowing her head and walking away, heading for the spare room.
'Goodnight, Aram.'

Aram watched her go, his mouth gaping ever so slightly open and his eyes still wide in surprise at the gesture. His cheeks flushed pink, the feeling of her kiss still lingering against his skin. Aram watched her disappear around that corner, wondering what on earth it all meant... Wondering, if it meant that she felt the same way about him that he did about her...

It was a question he had been wondering for a long time.

/*/*/*/*

1995

'What's wrong?' Came Samar's voice through the hole in the fence. 'You pretty much sprinted past the front gate today.' Indeed, Aram had. There was something on his mind that had bothered him from the second he had heard it, and distracted him for the rest of the day... And he didn't even want to stop at the front gate for the usual pretences of formal greeting in passing before reaching the back fence for their real conversations.
'One of the boys at school,' Aram began hurriedly, 'was complaining about having to go to his little sister's wedding. The family has just arranged it in the last couple of weeks.' He paused, taking a deep breath and staring fearfully back through the hole in the fence at as much of Samar as he could see in that tiny frame. 'She's fifteen, Samar,' he added, the anxiety painfully clear in his voice, 'like you.'

A breath caught in Samar's throat at his words. It was a fear that hit home like a punch to the gut, and only felt all the more real upon hearing the reality of it happening to someone that one of them knew –albeit distantly. Samar took a deep breath, reminding herself that her parents were not the same as many others, that they would never do such a thing to her... But Aram still looked terrified, and Samar knew exactly why. The similarity in age had shaken him, and made him instantly worried that the same thing would happen to her and that as a result, he would lose her before he could even blink. After all, all contact would be essentially cut off or reduced to the formal, public interactions of larger events on the rare occasions that they were invited to the same ones, if Samar was ever to have to marry someone else and move away.

'I'm not going anywhere,' she whispered through the fence, trying to reassure him as well as herself. 'My father won't let me marry anyone I don't love.' Aram bit his lip, and Samar could see the way her words made his brow furrow in deep contemplation as he thought it over.
'But how are you supposed to fall in love with someone before marrying them, if even just rumours of adultery here are enough to get you killed?' The question was painful enough a dilemma without Aram's cautious, shaky voice taking it from her mind's wanderings and asking it out loud. He stared back at her, his gaze screaming yet another question that Samar couldn't quite identify.
'I don't know,' she said miserably... And then gritted her teeth in determination; 'but I'm sure I'll find a way.'

/*/*/*/*

1998

Aram did a double take in horror as he wandered down the back hallway of the house, past the door to the spare room where Samar had slept the night before.

The door was ever so slightly ajar, as if she had tried to close it, and then it had creaked open again.

...And inside the room, she was changing.

Or at least, Aram thought she was changing. He wasn't actually looking. There was a narrow flash of skin he spotted out of the corner of his eye as he marched straight past the door, that didn't even register in his brain until he was three steps past it.

And that was when he froze.

He wasn't sure if he should keep walking, or step back and try –without looking- to let her know that the door was slightly open.

He also knew he definitely shouldn't look but at the same time... He couldn't help the sudden overwhelming curiosity.

Making a terrified, snap decision, Aram firmly shut his eyes, then took three steps straight backwards.

'Uh, Samar,' he whispered urgently through the door, and already internally berating himself for the fact that he was about to admit to her what he had seen, 'you might want to properly close this door. You have to watch it close, sometimes it catches.' There was a pause, and Aram's eyes clenched even more firmly shut as he suddenly wondered if something incredibly painful was about to happen to him... But no pain came.
'Why are your eyes closed?' Came Samar's voice instead. It was curious, more than anything else, almost gently teasing, in fact.
'You were changing...' Aram explained, each word slowly drawn in in lingering nervousness. He cautiously opened one eye to see her standing there, with her head poking around the door to look at him...

...And the remaining parts of her that he could see –one arm, and the shoulder it connected to- were totally bare.

'Still am,' she chirped softly, and Aram instantly whipped his gaze upwards to stare at the ceiling instead.
'Uhhh, you remember the thing where I'm not supposed to see you uncovered, right?' He asked nervously. There was almost a laugh to his question, as if he couldn't believe they were having such a conversation... Or the way it was proving so difficult to stop his gaze from slipping sideways, for that matter.
'It's just my arm,' Samar pointed out gently, though for the sake of his seeming discomfort, she pulled ever so slightly further back behind the door. His curiosity wasn't hard to miss either though, and she couldn't help but be amused by it.
'And your shoulder which, you know-' Aram winced at what he was thinking of '-is pretty close to other parts...'
'That's why there's a door in front of me,' Samar mused, holding back a laugh.

There was an odd sense of calm and confidence Samar felt standing there in front of him, half undressed and covered only by the door –one that surprised even herself, given how vulnerable she could be in such a state... But at the same time she knew that of all the possible people to walk past her in that moment, Aram was the one she knew for sure that she could trust to be the respectful gentleman. Silence fell between them briefly, as Samar waited patiently for Aram to figure out the winner in the internal debate she could see playing out across his face.

...And then, with his shoulders raised in embarrassed tension, and his teeth biting his lip in awkward curiosity, he dropped his gaze from the ceiling and glanced back at her.

Her eye was surrounded in a deep black and blue bruise, but her gaze had focus once again. She was alert, and more than that, she smiled softly back at him, not at all seeming uncomfortable with him seeing her like that. Samar remained with the rest of her body hidden behind the door; after all, she was curiously daring, and thoroughly enjoying the thrill of pushing that boundary, though she was still too cautious to push it any further than that. Aram eyed the gentle curves of her arm all the way up to her shoulder, another breath hitching in his throat as he committed the detail to memory. There was a pair of tiny, dark freckles just on the front of her shoulder... Aram committed that detail to memory too. He forced himself to breathe out slowly, his eyes meeting hers, and a shy, embarrassed smile tugging guiltily at his lips as he did so. It felt good to do something so defiant of the rules, though it didn't stop him from feeling guilty over that enjoyment, no matter how content Samar seemed to be with it.

'Um,' Aram finally broke the silence, 'Father went next door to your house. He says your parents are back... And Shahin is with them.' Samar's eyes went wide in curious surprise; 'apparently he was playing soccer and forgot again, and then when he got home he was so tired he just fell asleep.' Samar took a breath, nodding slowly as she processed that information; Shahin having forgotten to walk her from the store wasn't ideal, but for the moment she was just glad that was all it was, and that he was safe.
'Ok,' she murmured, shooting him a quick, appreciative smile –that quickly turned to a more mischievous one; 'then I should probably close the door and finish getting dressed now.'
'Yep,' Aram agreed, nodding quickly. Still they both stood there, the wry smile on Samar's face as they stared back at one another.
'I'm closing it now,' she chuckled.
'Right.' Aram simply blinked at her. Samar waggled her eyebrows as the door inched slowly closed and she disappeared behind it in entirety. This time, it clicked closed rather than falling open again. Still, Aram stood there for a moment, releasing another slow, deep breath at what had just happened. Finally, she shook his head, trying to snap himself out it, but continued on his way down the hallway still feeling somewhat dazed and wondering what on earth it all meant...

/*/*/*/*

'Shahin, what were you thinking?' Arash bellowed, as soon as Samar returned home and he saw the bruise around her eye. Thankfully, Mehri had deduced that she didn't have a concussion as first thought, but it was the bright colouring of the bruise that looked frightening. Arash was furious at what had happened –that Shahin's seemingly minor moment of forgetfulness had led to Samar being in the situation that it did.
'I said I was sorry-' Shahin half-heartedly tried to protest, his head bowed in shame. It was as soon as he had seen that bruise that horrified, guilty pit had dug its way into his stomach, and he had barely been able to stop apologising to Samar ever since... Until his father cut him off by beginning to yell.
'Look at her eye, Shahin,' Arash growled again, shaking his head in disgust at the way his son was staring so miserably at the floor.
'It wasn't his faul-' Samar tried to interject, as Shahin next to her awkwardly lifted his head to glance at the bruise as ordered... But Arash cut her off too.
'-She could have been killed if Aram wasn't with her,' he added, and still at the volume that was far louder than anything they usually ever heard. Arash tended to be softly spoken, only raising his voice when he absolutely had to make a verbal stand for something he believed in, or when one of his children did something he deemed extremely dangerous... Which was rare.
'But I wasn't,' Samar said quietly, but still firmly enough to catch her father's attention from grilling her brother. She was shaken by the incident with the vicious man the night before, and her head still ached from the impact but the reality was –as far as Samar was concerned- the man who had attacked her was out and about searching for his wife regardless of who did or did not walk her home. Even if Shahin had been walking with her, Samar was fairly certain the man would have still spotted her and at the very least, still screamed at her. She took a breath, preferring to focus on the fact that other than a black eye, she was fine... And a black eye wasn't going to scar her for life.

And then she turned on the spot, as something suddenly occurred to her, and glanced quizzically at her younger brother beside her.

'Shahin did you eat yesterday?' She asked, furrowing her brow in thought as she tried to remember the day before.
'What?' Their father blinked, staring at her in confusion... But Samar and Shahin both ignored him.
'No...' Shahin said slowly, shaking his head. A look of knowing regret began to etch its way across Samar's face.
'Why not?' She asked again. Shahin shifted awkwardly back and forth on his feet, not wanting to answer given what had happened afterwards... But Samar simply raised an eyebrow, wanting him to answer.
'You forgot to make my lunch before we left yesterday...' Shahin sighed, staring guiltily back at the floor once again. From a young age, he'd had that instinct to protect his sister no matter what, and even just admitting to their father that she had done something as silly as forgetting his lunch was something he hated having to do... But Samar was just as stubborn. She preferred to own up for her mistakes, especially those that impacted her brother, just as the very first mistakes Shahin was ever inclined to own up to were those that impacted her. And Samar knew from the moment Shahin stared guiltily back at the floor; her younger brother had known the second they had left home the morning before that he didn't have his lunch but he hadn't said anything, preferring to independently find himself another option if he could, rather than reminding her at the last minute and making her late for work.
'And what happens when you play soccer and you haven't eaten?' She asked softly, almost like a mother asking a misbehaving child.
'I get tired,' Shahin mumbled back.

Samar shifted her gaze again, this time back to her father as she sheepishly shrugged her shoulders. As far as she was concerned, if any level of fault could be found in Shahin for what happened the night before, so too did that fault lie with her. Shahin had been tasked with looking after her, just as she had been tasked with looking after him... And neither of them had really succeeded.

Arash shook his head as he eyed the both of them standing there, side by side with heads bowed in solidarity with one another.

'...I wonder, will you two ever not stand up for one another?' He sighed, in utter disbelief.
'Nope,' Samar said, gritting her teeth in determination just as Shahin hurriedly shook his head.
'Good.' Both Samar and Shahin's eyes went wide in surprise, as Arash gave one more exasperated sigh of defeat and decided to head back to his home office... Pausing only to raise one eyebrow at Shahin in passing; 'don't ever forget your sister again.'

---

Next up, back to fluff for a while in 'The Facts'