under the covers [hs au]

chapter forty.

The water ran cold.

Samira stepped out of the shower, droplets running down her skin. She wiped herself dry with a warm towel, wrapping it around her wet hair.

Fog settled onto the surface of the mirror. Samira swiped across it with the palm of her hand, her sienna eyes scrutinizing, watching, judging herself from head to toe. The white in her eyes contained red branches, and her skin was pale, a few bluish-yellow bruises painted from her shoulders to her collarbones. She looked at her hands, toying with the chipped nail polish. As she continued her search for any sort of tender adoration for herself, looking to her belly and her thighs, there was none.

Her neck felt vulnerable until she put that old necklace back on.

With the towel wrapped around her body, Samira stepped into her room quickly. She then heard the sound of her mother's voice, calling her to come to eat lunch. Her head peeking out the door, she responded with a soft voice before shutting it.

The walls were a soft pink. Samira sat on her lumpy bed, looking around the room. Surat's bed was across from hers, her side of the room neat. All her vivid paintings hung on the walls, while Samira's medals and certificates accompanied them. Samira hadn't seen her sister since Wapa picked her up—he told her Surat would be home, at least before Samira would head to Mahnoor's for dinner.

She put on a grey crewneck and her old black sweatpants from high school—they were quite loose now. As she squeezed the water out of her hair, her mother called her once more.

"Varen," she responded, leaving her room.

Samira walked down the stairs, hands in her pockets. Sitting at the dining table felt somewhat different, new. The last time she ate at home, the plate she was given would be half empty—but it was full today. Biryani, curry, vegetables, lentils. Just for her. For every birthday she had at home, she'd never been fed this kindly.

Once Samira finished her plate, her stomach full, Omma put more food before she could refuse.

Innum konjam saappadu, ma.

Omma had never told Samira that before.

Samira sat next to Elias on the couch afterward. His once sweet, young voice had gotten deeper since she'd last seen him. She watched him play Apex Legends, aiding him as he gamed. Before she'd gone to Liverpool, they used to play together all the time. Elias admitted that he missed it when she left.

"Can we go out and get ice cream later this week? With Surat?" Elias turned to her, switching his Xbox off. "Like we used to?"

The corners of her lips lifted. Samira admired his crooked smile—she didn't realize how much she missed being a big sister, even if it could sometimes be a burdensome, parent-like role.

"Yeah, we can."

The knob of the front door rattled. Samira's heart pounded when she saw that familiar pair of Converse step inside. At the sound of that loud, goofy laugh, Samira's face lit up. She stormed off the couch, watching Surat walk into the house, a loose scarf wrapped around her head.

She held a giant cake in her hands—Samira's favorite—raspberry cream cheese bundt cake.

"Samira!" Surat squealed, holding her arms out. "Wait, wait, let me put this down first."

Surat ran to the kitchen, setting the cake down on the counter. Samira then hugged her tightly, taking in that rosy smell Surat would drench herself in.

"Are you sleeping over?" Samira asked.

"No." Surat frowned. "I have an 8 a.m. tomorrow; I have to go back to my dorm once you leave to Mahnoor's."