It was nearing two-thirty by the time her pencil left her hand.
Talia considered finding a red pen to accent Zaid's sleepy eyes in the drawing, as distinct as those of a stoner, but the only thing they were high off was sleep-deprived delirium.
And tension.
Lots of fucking tension.
"Do I at least get the pleasure of seeing this drawing?" Zaid rasped, rubbing his left eye with the heel of his palm. "I stayed awake just for you."
"You drifted off four different times, Zaid," she laughed, rising from her seat. A ghastly crack followed, her back finally straightening out after being contorted like a pretzel for the last hour. After another pleasant stretch, she planted her hands on either armrest, invading his personal space. "I think it would be too anticlimactic if you took a look right now."
"Anticlimactic?" He made a face. "That word only applies is if you don't let me see the drawing. Or wait...did you butcher all my nice features? I have a pretty decent nose for an Arab last I checked."
"Funny you choose to question my artistic abilities after encouraging me to rediscover them." She tweaked his decent nose and let her grip fall to his jaw. "My decision has nothing to do with how the drawing came out, for the record. Maybe...I just want the upper hand, for once."
She could feel the muscles of his mouth tugging at his cheeks, attempting to form a weak smirk. "Who says you don't have it? I can barely see straight, yet my eyes force themselves open just to admire you."
Feeling oddly brazen, perhaps empowered by his shameless expression of attraction, Talia pressed her palms into the armrests and lifted one knee to his side, then the other, until she was just hovering above his lap. The muscles in her thighs stiffened as she tried to lower herself some more, eyes frozen on the hard planes of his chest, still sans a shirt to temper her lust.
His fingers skimmed her spine, feeling fiery through her thin long sleeve, and stopped just where a small patch of bare skin peeked out from underneath the cropped hemline. Her body tightened more, knuckles turning white as she gripped the cushion atop his head with one clammy hand.
She blinked, and two hands cupped her ass. With one tug, he did away with the rest of the space between her legs and his lap.
"Next time, if you really want the upper hand," Zaid said into her ear, fingertips digging into the fabric of her sweatpants, "I shouldn't have to help you."
Throat closing in on itself from nerves, she abandoned her words entirely. A hand gripped the back of his head, fingers losing themselves in the wild ends of his hair, as they'd wanted to all night. Then a pair of lips met his cheekbone, soft and delicate, increasing their tempo as they descended. Another hand was far more reserved, sliding down the middle of his chest, feeling smooth skin and a beating heart.
"You can have it back," she whispered, glancing up. "I like it better that way, anyway."
He cupped her cheeks and tilted her head up, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he saw something in them she couldn't, even with the help of a thousand mirrors. And then he connected their lips, holding her head and moving her the way he wanted. It was slow, measured, chaste, the opposite of what she wanted, but this was already wrong enough with her grandparents just a floor above them.
Zaid pulled his mouth away, a small sigh escaping it in the process before he folded her into his arms. She lay her head on his shoulder and let him run his hand down her back until her eyelids felt like molasses.
"I should probably—"
"You can sleep, Talia," he said.
He didn't have to tell her twice.
***
Talia had no memory of when the blanket pulled up to her shoulders on the sofa had appeared nor when Zaid had decided one wasn't necessary for himself.
Blinking open one stinging eye, then the other, she found him passed out in his same seat, arms folded over his long sleeve, head dangling over the edge of the cushion. Something sharp poked her side, and she sprung up into the air like a popcorn kernel. When she fished the object out from underneath the blanket, the loudest sigh of relief escaped her lips, almost enough to have awoken Zaid.
She held the notepad to her face, eyes widening as she made out a scribbled message on the first page, the drawing hidden underneath the first two sheets.
I didn't look.
Heart tightening into a ball of fondness, she swung her legs over the side of the couch and forced herself up, noticing the time: a quarter to nine. It would be another day running on mediocre sleep, but she didn't mind, knowing how limited her time left with Zaid was. She gently transferred the blanket to his body, careful not to stir him with her icy hands. As she tucked the last edge into the corner of the cushion, sure she had succeeded, a small groan escaped his lips.
She willed him back to sleep with a gentle hand to his cheek. "You don't have to get up yet, Zaid. It's your birthday, remember?"
"Not yet," he murmured, still sticking to accuracy.
She kissed his forehead in return, making him smile warmly in his dazed state.
Holding her belongings, Talia mounted the stairs, careful to keep her footsteps deft and light. After a few mental calculations, she realized her family had to have already landed in the US, making the time zone difference tolerable for the first time in three weeks.
Trying her luck, she Facetimed Calvin, urging him to pick up between rings.
"Oh, God bless America—I have never been more grateful to walk on US soil in my life."
"Well, hello to you, too, founding father," Talia chuckled, shutting her door behind her. Calvin's black-and-green bedroom was fuzzy, no light forcing its way through the curtains, as it was barely six in the morning in California. "Glad to know you made it home safe."
He threw himself back onto his wrinkled bedsheets and lifted his phone up into the air. "One more trip outside this country, and I might come home and decorate a pickup with American flags and spray tan myself orange in honor of my savior. Not sure how high the military was for thinking our freedom was in the Middle East because I sure as fuck did not find it there." Devilish smiling forming on his lips, he added, "Do check for me again, if Zaid drags you over there after he tries to make you his wife in about a year."
"Wait, what?" She wasn't sure what part of his rant horrified her more, from the proposed changes to his political views to the thought of her marriage.
"Just kidding," he threw in, "on the last part only. But I am still somewhat horrified at the number of second cousins we have that are engaged at, like, nineteen. I don't know if I'll have decided on a major by then, let alone a partner for the rest of my life."
"Bold of you to assume they've 'decided.'" She tried to find a place to prop up her phone, as her hand had cramped up after all that drawing. "Why are you up so early, anyway? Shouldn't you be trying to cure your jet lag?"
"I can't miss any more school, and it's still four p.m. in my head. At least the time zone change won't be so brutal for you."
"Given that I've barely slept over the last few days, I'm sure I'll pass out the moment I come back home." To not have to think about everything I'll miss... "How's Baba, by the way?"
He glanced at his bedroom door outside of the frame and lowered his voice. "He's fine, but Mom and Dad aren't on the best terms right now. They got into an argument before leaving France and have been giving each other the cold shoulder since."
"Wait, what caused the argument?"
Calvin took a long drink of water from the bottle on his side table. "Well, um...you."
"Me?" She felt her heart sink in her chest, unused to being the center of conflict. "What did I do, Calvin?"
"Nothing." He shot her a sympathetic smile, flipping on his light switch so she could make out his exhausted features. "I just don't—I don't think Mom understands what's the issue between you two. So, I don't know... Maybe prepare yourself for a very awkward conversation when you come home. Or worse, silence."
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her usually low blood pressure skyrocket. "You know what, I don't want to bother with this stuff right now. But thanks for the reminder that I need to start packing."
Forgetting their troubles, they gossiped, shit-talked, and joked their way through the next hour, until he had to fish out his school uniform from the depths of his closet, and she heard conversation coming from downstairs. Talia had boxed and bagged away almost everything she wouldn't need for the next twenty-four hours while also discovering a handful of clothes she hadn't even touched this entire trip, like one very cute plaid mini skirt.
Feeling inspired to elevate her look, she lined her eyes, colored her lips, and touched up every unruly strand of hair until she looked like a new her.
Although the master bedroom was empty, the voices floating up the stairs didn't sound like her grandparents. In fact, the only person talking was Zaid, ending a phone call with someone far away enough. She stopped in the living room, using the open concept of the bottom floor to detect him in the corner of the kitchen.
"Shukran, Mama. I missed you." He paused so his mother could get in a few more words, and then he nodded, sweeping his undereyes. "See you soon. Also, say hi to Saif, Nadine, and Jido Nabil for me."
See you soon? Was the phrase just a pleasantry, or was he going back home not too long from now?
She made her way to the kitchen and leaned into the doorframe. He'd changed his clothes since she'd last seen him, donning black jeans and a brown corduroy jacket.
"I thought my grandparents would be here. Where are they?"
He picked up a folded piece of paper on the kitchen island. "They left a note saying they'd be gone until the evening, but I'm not sure to where." Talia tried to ignore the fact they'd probably taken in the sight of them sleeping in the living room, hoping Zaid had dropped her off on the couch before they'd come downstairs. Instead, she lost herself in his wandering gaze, watching his fingertips meet his lips. "Did you do that for me?"
"Do what for you?" she asked, stomach fluttering. "I don't recall today being an occasion or anything."
Zaid rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll cut the bullshit. My mother just spent the last half hour on the phone recounting the story of my birth, anyway. My parents were hoping for a girl, for the record."
"Hm," she hummed, playing with the ends of her hair. "That wish wouldn't have worked in my favor."
He pulled her to him. "It's a pleasure for my existence to be of service." With another look at her outfit and then the time on his phone, he asked, "What do you say you join me for the day?"
"Join you where?"
"Everywhere," he said. "Let's be tourists."