1998
The sunlight sneaking in through the crack in the curtains made Samar begin to stir. She rolled onto her other side in her half-asleep state, burying her face into Aram's shoulder to block out the light, but that only made him begin to stir as well. His arm, fallen to rest against the mattress during the night, wrapped back against her waist once more.
'Morning,' he mumbled, his eyes still closed as he nuzzled into her hair in his own attempt to block out the light. Samar mumbled something completely unintelligible in response, her words muffled by his shoulder. Aram chuckled softly, running one hand in gentle circles along her back and shoulders, her soft skin still bare from the night before. Samar hummed under her breath, completely comfortable with waking up wrapped around him under the sheets...
...And then her brain clicked into gear and her eyes suddenly snapped open.
'Oh, it's morning,' she gasped, sitting bolt upright in the bed next to him. Aram blinked up at her, his own eyes flickering open unhappily in response to her sudden departure from his arms as he tried to process what that meant.
'Morning...' Aram mumbled sleepily to himself... And then it clicked. 'Oh no,' he groaned. He smacked his palm to his forehead in frustration; 'we fell asleep.' Samar bit her lip, staring anxiously back at him.
'Shahin will be awake by now,' she began to fret, 'and I'm not at home.' Samar pushed back the covers and swung her legs around to jump straight out of bed and hurriedly pick up her clothes from the floor. Aram followed suit, their state of total undress now the last thing from either of their minds unlike the fascination of the night before. 'Where's my dress?' Samar asked, her eyes scanning the room, searching for it. Aram blinked, trying to remember where everything went in the frenzy of clothes and hands.
'Uh,' Aram began, thinking it over. 'Oh, the bathroom,' he gasped. 'You already took it off before I brought you the towel. Hang on, I'll get it.' He darted out of the room, his underwear the only thing he had managed to put back on so far. Samar continued scrambling to pull back on everything else she could reach, tugging on the drawstring of her pants by the time Aram returned with both her dress and her jacket in hand. 'Is that everything?' He asked cautiously, his anxious eyes meeting hers. Samar took the dress, pulling it over her head in a flash without a word of response, before finally pausing over her jacket. Her fingertips brushed over his as she took it from him, and she glanced up, desperately trying to give some kind of tiny, reassuring smile.
'I think that's everything,' she murmured, nodding slowly. Aram shot her a guilty smile of his own, swinging the jacket around her shoulders for her.
'Ok,' he whispered back, 'come on.' With another short nod, and grabbing his robe from the hook on the wall as he moved, Aram darted back out of the room, Samar quick on his heels all the way to the door that led out into the back garden. Samar paused at the door, turning back for just one second longer and lingering there, neither of them really wanting for her to have to leave.
'I think I know what I forgot,' she breathed. Aram's brow furrowed in that quizzical, confused fashion she adored so much, and she rested one gentle palm against his cheek. She stared back at him for a second, grinning softly at his sleep messed hair that poked out wildly in all kinds of directions, and the robe hanging wonky on his frame in the hurry to get to the door. 'This,' she whispered again. Samar leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Finally she pulled away again, then turned and hurried back across the garden to the fence. Aram followed, staying just a few steps behind, to make sure that she slipped back through the gap easily enough, and that the plank fell back into place behind her. He watched her disappear from view entirely, desperately trying to hold on to all sensation of her bare skin against his.
On the other side of the fence, Samar took a deep breath once she reached the back door of her own house. Her hand hovered over the door handle, and she wished she hadn't had to rush away so quickly. Samar took another breath, steeling herself and reminding herself that she would see Aram at work again in a day or so –if not sooner at the hole in the fence... But it was no use. Her stomach churned with a combination of nervousness to open the door, and a longing to turn around and run straight back again. Another breath and teeth gritted... And she finally pushed the door open and slipped quietly back into the house.
The living room and kitchen were both empty. Samar darted straight across, and headed down the hallway towards her bedroom.
'Where have you been?' Shahin's quiet voice from behind her, made Samar freeze in her tracks. She turned on the spot, noting him standing there in the doorway to his own room at the other end of the hallway.
'In the garden,' she quickly replied, nodding for emphasis.
'All morning?' Again, his voice was quiet, flat, and difficult to read. His eyes glanced Samar up and down, studying the expression of forced calm on her face as she nodded again; 'in the same clothes you wore yesterday?'
'I woke up early before you did...' Samar began slowly, keeping her voice as measured and casual as she could; 'I didn't want to wake you with the noise of the shower, so I just put on yesterday's clothes again before going outside.'
Silence fell between them for a moment. Shahin stared back at her, his expression morphing slowly into one of disappointment and hurt.
'You were out last night,' he murmured flatly –not a question but rather, an observation. He shook his head in frustration, then moved to brush past her towards the bathroom.
'Shahin-' Samar tried to grasp his hand and stop him marching past, but Shahin only shook her away.
'-I thought we told each other things, Samar,' he growled, cutting her off. The volume of his voice rose, though not in anger. More than anything he was hurt.
'We do-'
'-Then where were you all night?' He stared back at her as she struggled to answer, his eyes feeling like lasers boring into her skull... Until he shook his head again, and stormed past her.
'Shahin,' Samar pleaded with him, grasping his arm again, 'wait.' Shahin turned on the spot, shaking his head as he stared back at her.
'You came in from the backyard,' he growled again, 'that doesn't allow you access to many places away from home.' A breath caught in Samar's throat as he spoke; 'I'm not stupid, Samar,' he added. 'You were with Aram, weren't you?' Samar hesitated before responding, her mouth opening slightly and then quickly closing again as she debated with herself what to say. She couldn't tell him the truth; she needed him to have the plausible deniability of her not confirming his suspicions, for him to be safe and not be accidentally pulled into the whole mess. She stared back at him anxiously, her eyes begging him not to speak a word of his suspicions, and desperately wishing that he could know how badly she wanted to protect him from the truth... But she didn't know how to say it. Shahin shook his head again, taking her hesitation and silence as denial, and then scowling as he spoke again. 'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Like I said, I'm not stupid, Samar,' he muttered flatly, his voice dripping with disappointment; 'I'm annoyed, but I don't want to see you killed for whatever crazy thing you've got yourself into.' And with that, he wrenched his arm from hers for the last time, and marched wordlessly on towards the bathroom.
The tears stung in Samar's eyes as she watched him storm away from her. She was furious at herself for the fact that it had come to this; that she so desperately wanted to still be back on the other side of that fence, curled peacefully against Aram's side, but at the same time, it could come at the cost of the brother she loved so dearly.
/*/*/*/*
For the next couple of hours, the only words exchanged between Samar and Shahin were small talk, the few words necessary to go about their daily routines in the same house together. Samar wandered briefly out to the front garden to check the letterbox... Only to pause when she turned and faced the opposite direction to walk back inside. Just off to the side of the doorstep, the space that Samar didn't even glance at in passing the first time, was a small bunch of flowers; a handful of red roses from the climbing rosebushes that spanned the front fence, interspersed with sprigs of jasmine, and tied together clumsily with a wonky string bow. The tiniest ghost of a smile tugged at Samar's lips, and she laughed softly to herself as she picked it up off the ground; it certainly wasn't the neatest little bouquet –a trained florist, Aram most certainly was not- but it was sweet all the same... And given the uneasy quiet with Shahin inside, it was just enough of a gesture to start to ease the unsettled feeling that was steadily sinking itself into a deeper and deeper pit in her stomach.
Samar held the flowers close to her side as she ambled cautiously back inside, but Shahin had retreated to his room again and didn't notice a thing. Samar took down a small vase from one of the kitchen cupboards, added a splash of water and the flowers, then carried the lot back to her own room, where she set it carefully on the nightstand. Next she curled up on her bed with her book, smiling softly every time she peeked over the cover to spied the flowers still sitting there. Every time she glanced at them, she couldn't help but think back to the night before... Where she had been so happily caught up in the moment, she had allowed herself –just for a moment- to forget about the fear of anyone finding out.
That was the happiness she wanted back... Not uncomfortable silence of her and Shahin hiding from each other at opposite ends of a hallway until their parents returned home.
Samar gritted her teeth, finally giving up on her book and tossing down beside her on the bed. She jumped to her feet again, and marched straight down the hallway.
'Shahin?' She began, quiet but still to the point as she knocked on his half-open door.
'What?' He simply sighed in response, not even raising his eyes from his drawing to meet hers. Samar took a breath, steeling herself.
'I'm sorry,' she said simply. Finally, Shahin looked up, raising one eyebrow in surprise.
'Since when do we ever say sorry to each other?' He asked quietly, 'I thought we always just fumed silently for an hour or so, before giving up and forgiving each other instead.' Samar's gaze dropped to the floor in guilty contemplation for a moment.
'I wasn't sure if that applied today,' she murmured, biting her lip.
'I'm still annoyed.' Shahin stared straight back at her, not dropping his gaze for a single second as his frustrated voice hit home. 'I might be still just a kid, while you two are adults now... But you're still my sister, and Aram is still my friend, and I feel like I never see either of you anymore. I get it, you're both busy with running that bookstore, but...' Shahin shook his head, railing off and letting out a reluctant sigh instead, unsure what else to really say. He sat there, cross-legged on his bed, leaning over his drawing pad and scattered collection of pencils sharpened to all kinds of different lengths over time. Warily, Samar moved those few steps further across the room towards him, taking a tentative peek at his latest creation as she sat right on the edge of the bed. So far it appeared to be two people –or rather, the page was filled by their shoulders and faces. The one on the right of the landscape page was still just a rough outline that faced the left –with only adoring eyes drawn in detail- but the face on the left had clear, delicate features that smiled warmly back at the one on the right... Features, that were all too familiar.
'You're drawing Maman?' Samar asked softly, staring at the beginning stages of dark curls being drawn, framing the face on the left.
'And Father,' Shahin nodded slowly, tapping the face on the right with the end of his pencil to indicate the other familiar pair of eyes.
'It's good.' Samar didn't even need to lift her eyes from the picture for her words to make their point. Just her earnest voice made its point; Shahin had a certain talent for drawing, but he didn't often draw full pictures in such detail unless he was stressed or trying to procrastinate from his homework. The picture in front of him now was one of the most elaborate Samar had ever seen him draw. It showed their parents, side by side, with their mother's head turned ever so slightly to glance over her shoulder at their father while she smiled and laughed, and their father watching on happily... With his eyes crinkled in that adoring way they always did when he stared at her. It was a common sight in their home, one that both Samar and Shahin always loved to see.
'Aram looks at you like that too, you know,' Shahin said quietly. He tilted his head, pausing thoughtfully for a moment as he glanced at the picture again. 'I don't know if you see it, but he does. He has for a long time.' Samar shifted her gaze from the picture back to her brother, her brow furrowed curiously.
'...But?'
'But... Now you look at him like that as well.' Another breath caught in Samar's throat as she wondered, not only how or when Shahin had noticed such a thing, but also what it meant. 'Whatever it is that you've got yourself into... You know what you're doing, right?' Now it was Shahin's turn to plead with her. Samar hesitated before responding;
'Shahin... I want to be able to tell you the truth, but-'
'-You can't,' Shahin finished quickly for her. 'I know that face too. It's frustrating.' He paused, eyeing his sister with one eyebrow raised in suspicion and determination; 'just know, if Aram hurts you... I will kill him.' Samar couldn't help but instantly let out a wry smile.
'Not if Father or I get to him first,' she mused. Shahin pulled a face in response –one, of mock horror and offense. In a flash he reached behind himself, fingers curling quickly around his pillow before flinging straight into her shoulder. Samar gasped, hurriedly scanning the room for anything else soft that she could fling back at him in retaliation... But Shahin already had the upper hand –he whacked the pillow against once more against her arm as he teasingly replied;
'I'll race you both.'
/*/*/*/*
The atmosphere in the house was far calmer and far more upbeat after that. It was well after lunch time by the time Samar and Shahin's parents returned home, but by that point the two of them were far more content to go about their own, usual routines about the house, without feeling the discomfort of conflict. Samar was back in her room, still taking the occasional, wistful glance at the flowers in the vase on her nightstand over her book when her mother finally poked her head around the door, calling her to help with the dishes.
'Where did those come from?' Nasrin's soft, curious voice jolted Samar's concentration from her book. She glanced up, eyeing her mother's almost amused gesture at the little bouquet on the nightstand.
'I picked the roses from the front fence this morning,' Samar replied quickly. It didn't answer the question entirely, but at least her words were plausible; the rose bushes after all, climbed both sides of the front fence. Regardless, her mother wasn't so easily fooled.
'...And the jasmine?' She mused. Samar's eyes snapped warily to her mother's –the latter crinkled all too knowingly.
'I asked Aram for some.'
'You asked him... For flowers?' Samar paused before responding, thinking carefully about her words.
'At work the other day I asked him,' she said slowly, cautiously; 'he was talking about his mother's garden, and you know I love the smell of jasmine, so... I asked if he wouldn't mind clipping some for me.' Samar gave a nonchalant shrug, both an act to deny her mother's suspicions, and to try and shake the feeling of being far too close to the edge, from her shoulders. She glanced back down at the book in her hands. 'He left it on the doorstep this morning,' she murmured, turning a page as if to signal the end of the matter. Nasrin gave a wry smile, her daughter's point made more than clearly enough. She turned on her heels, still smiling in amusement to herself, but without another word as she left the room and continued on down the hallway towards her son in turn.
It took all of three seconds after her mother left the room, before another soft smile lit up Samar's face as she glanced at the flowers over her book once more.
Back on Aram's side of the fence, where he sat outside by the back door to his garden, he stared absentmindedly at the long, messy vines of jasmine that spanned the length of the fence opposite the one with the hole... And the very same smile crossed his face too.
Next up; the ending that goes straight back to the beginning, in 'The Dilemma'.