REMARKABLE

38

He blinked, deserting his thoughts, turning his attention to his eldest son as the young one scurried away.

Yahya sat opposite Bilal on the bean bag, maintaining his deafening silence. Bilal grimaced, looking intently at Yahya Firas as he looked everywhere except him. He seemed to have inherited Munizeh's most irritating habit.

'Talk to me, Yahya. I can hazard a guess but I won't know what's bothering you unless you talk to me, son?' He spoke, trying to coax him to talk as he sat before him on his knees, just like Imam Rizwan would. Did.

Yahya had his arms folded on his knees, he shifted, biting his tongue before he expressed his opinions, "I don't have anything to say to you." Yahya vacated his seat, his lower lip trembling as he tried to reign his blazing emotions.

He's always been an angry child, more angry than anyone Bilal had ever witnessed his age, maybe, he'd also inherited his mother's rage. Bilal hated when he cried because he was furious, he hated more because Yahya Firas didn't express. He'd rather burn in his own hell than share and Bilal shattered when his son would rather cry than say what's hurting him. He'd rather be hurt. There was something about it that deeply worried Bilal.

"Sit with me, son."Bilal spoke without missing a beat as he pulled yahya's hand, making him sit beside him on the floor and enveloped him in a side hug, his face buried in his father's sturdy chest.

"Tell me." Bilal crooned.

Yahya tried to pull away but Bilal didn't let go and gingerly, kissed his head. Yahya complained on the verge of tears as he rolled his lips inside his mouth to keep the cry from escaping and spoke shakily with temper,"You are never at home! You are always busy working. You just came and you both are going, again! Why do you have to leave us with Chacha Rasheed? I don't want to stay with him! I don't like him! Take me with you!" Albeit, stubborn tears fell when Bilal fixed Yahya's disorderly brown ringlets with his fingers as he glared at his father.

"Take us with you, dad. Please, we will be good." He tried, desperately to convince his father. There was another thing about Yahya Firas, he refused to be alone.

"Betay, don't cry, please. You know, I don't like to see your tears and I promise, this is the last time. Nana is sick, right? He needs your mother and me. I swear, I would never leave you alone, again. It's the last time. I'll be back on Sunday. It's just two days, son. I promise. I am going to be here for as long as you want, then. Okay? I promise." He emphasized.

"No! You always say that! You said this the last time and before that and before that. Nana has Uncle Adam, Uncle Hamza, Aunty Hajra and Aunty Sofia and Mustansar and Ardashir." Yahya recounted,"He's not alone. You're leaving us, alone." Yahya muttered, not believing his father for even a minute. He would have but It hadn't happened for the first time.

"Yes, he does but nana misses your mama like I will miss Anaya and you all, if I don't see you."Bilal murmured against Yahya's hair.

'No. I-we want to see Nana too. I don't trust you. You lie!' Bilal pulled away as he looked at his crying son. The saline pearls glided down his flushed apples, his nose turning red.

Bilal was about to talk when Munizeh interrupted standing at the door of the living room, admonishing Yahya, who cried harder in his father's arms.

"Yahya... This isn't how you talk to your dad."

Bilal frowned as he gestured to crying Yahya. Shaking his head, he uttered.

"Munizeh." He chastised.

Munizeh blushed under his scolding gaze. Her name sounded no less than an endearment when he said it like that even when she recognized slight anger in his voice. He was an over potective father and he had never allowed Munizeh to as much as raise her voice on them. He always listened to them and unlike other kids who had never tasted their mother's slap, they were very obedient. Munizeh sat beside them as she observed Bilal trying to convince their oldest son.