Mikaeel pulled the key out of his ignition breathing heavily at the thought of walking inside. He leaned his head to rest against the steering wheel. He could still smell it and taste it.
Fuck.
He prayed she was sleeping already. She had woken up earlier than usual considering Imaad kept on nudging them till their eyes open. It was fucking dark outside but that barely stopped him and she had to entertain the quarter pint for an entire day.
She had to be exhausted.
He sat up licking his lips before wiping it with his hand. It would have to do...
Then he opened the car door and walked inside.
"Yes Sarafina?" She looked up from her laptop to find a troubling expression on Sarafina's face as she looked at Mikaeel's shirt.
"Eish..." She scratched her head in indecision. "This is not right."
"What?" She set her cup down ignoring the slight spill of hot chocolate as it escaped the rim.
"Ek ken jou lipstick." She said warily. "Jy hou nie van rooi nie. You like pink."
"Ya..." She never realised Sarafina was as observant as that.
"Your husband." She looked back down at the shirt. "He thinks he can wash it out but he doesn't know how to."
"Wash what out?"
She stepped forward slowly holding out the shirt in her hand. "This..."
Sitting innocently on the collar of his shirt was a dark, smudged, red lipstick stain.
Hoori looked up from her computer as he walked through in the front door. His mother always forced him to stay for supper when he went over for anything but she had begun to worry after the minute hand inched to the little 11 on their silver wall clock. "I called you a few times." She stretched her arms above her head, yawning softly.
"My battery died." He sounded off as he turned to walk away.
"Did you give Imaad his marshmallows?" She asked, closing her laptop gently before standing up.
"Fuck it..." He muttered. "I'll take it tomorrow." He turned away from her walking towards the door.
"No, it's okay..." She looked at him strangely. He had been itching to walk away since he had walked in practically ignoring her as he walked to the bathroom. "We'll just eat it up."
"I'll take them tomorrow." He said resolutely, taking a step away from the room.
"Mika, wait." She called walking carefully towards him. She could only pray that she was wrong about the smell grazing her nose. It smelt something like a strong, musky rose and she hated floral perfumes.
She was wrong. She had to be wrong.
"What Hoori?"
She stopped when she was standing behind him, turning him around gently. "Why won't you look at me?"
"I've had a shit day. I want to shower."
"Really?"
He cocked an eyebrow, expecting her to let him go. She looked at him closely, taking one last step towards him before she brushed her lips against his. It was slow and tentative and he could feel her lip balm brush against his lips before she stepped back.
"I can see her lipstick on you, Mikaeel." She whispered, brushing her lips against his once again, running her tongue softly against his bottom lip. She leaned back, wiping her lips with her sleeve. "I can still taste it on you." She said quietly. "When you rub it off with your hands, it doesn't actually disappear." She picked up his right hand, examining the side of his wrist before she picked it up to show him the light purple smudge that he had forgotten to wipe off.
"It's not what you think."
"And what do I think?" Her lips twisted sardonically as she waited for his reply.
"You know what you're thinking."
"No. I don't" She shrugged. "Why don't you tell me what I would possibly think when I smell another woman's perfume on you."
"She came onto me. Not the other way around."
"Oh?" She nodded, licking her lips once again. "So where did this happen then?"
It wasn't what she said that pissed him off. It was the way she looked at him as she said it. She didn't glare at him, or scowl or glower at him. She looked at him as if he were gum stuck beneath her shoelace that she didn't particularly feel like removing.
"Why would I bother when I know you won't believe me?" He crossed his arms, bearing down on her.
"Why wouldn't I believe you?"
"Stop being impossible and let me go." He closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face.
Why couldn't she just be sleeping? It would have made his night so much fucking easier if she could just be sleeping.
"I'm being impossible?" She asked, her body heating up as she became more and more annoyed at his responses. "What do you mean by that?"
"You're harping on about bullshit that didn't happen."
Why was he such an asshole?
"Oh my God..." She whispered to herself. "You're actually not messing around with me. You just expect me to let you go?"
"You used to do it in the past Hoori; this isn't any different."
Her heart actually clenched at his response. "Because I couldn't care less before Mikaeel." Her voice began to rise. "But now..."
"Now what?" He didn't know why he couldn't answer her questions rationally but he knew he struck a nerve as soon as those words left his mouth.
"Now..." She looked up at him breathing deeply as if it could calm her heart.
Didn't he feel the same way? She knew he felt the same way? She wasn't imagining it? She never imagined the flirting and the teasing and the smiles that lit up his face when he thought she wasn't looking. She wasn't imagining it?
Right?
"Now it hurts Mikaeel. It's hurting me." She confessed.
"It shouldn't because nothing happened." He said for the second time.
"I can't believe you. I want to but I can't." She shook her head taking a step back.
"That's just not my problem." He shrugged it off. He knew he was being defensive but if she was happy to dismiss his innocence then he couldn't give a flying fuck about it.
"What?" She rubbed her hand over her mouth trying desperately to stuff her words back inside. "Shit..." She whispered to herself.
"What now?"
She shook her head, smiling though she had nothing to smile about. "Why am I even bothering?" She gripped her forehead in her palm as if it would help her to make sense of things. "You left me half naked beneath you to find another girl so why the hell is this even surprising me?"
She just had to go there...
"I mean... You didn't change. I don't know why it's hurting or why my heart is suffocating me right now but it shouldn't be that way. I should never..." She stopped, unsure if her thoughts rang true.
"Should never what?"
"I should never have given you the ability to hurt me. This shouldn't hurt because I'm so used to it. I'm used to having you climb into my bed and sleep right next to me with hickeys all over your neck and I'm used to smelling perfume on your clothes and I'm used to seeing lipstick smudges all over your shirt so I don't know why it's pissing me off because I should be used to it."
"I guess you should be..." He said, standing stiffly as each one of her words shot through him as if they were small bullets.
"I guess so..." She looked up at him once again. "But I don't want to be used to it anymore Mikaeel. I deserve better than that." She said it so softly as if barely believing the words herself.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I deserve better." Her throat clammed up as if the words were just too big for her heart to throw out. "I deserve better than you." She said slowly as if realising for the first time that it had plagued her mind since the beginning of her marriage. The lounge descended in an eerie silence as he looked at her, his face darkening with her words and his jaw clenching as if it would be crushed.
"You're just not good enough for me, Mikaeel."
Why can't you just try Mikaeel. You could be better if you just tried.
You could be better if you made better choices.
You just aren't good enough to beat your brother and sister.
If you thought further ahead, you could have done better and gone farther.
If you stopped hanging out with them, you could be better.
If you just...
You could be better, Mikaeel.
You could be better...
You could be better.
You're just not good enough, you could be better.
"If that's how you feel then why am I still here?" He fished his key out of his pocket before rezipping his jacket.
"Ya," She looked at him as if willing him to just leave. "Why are you still here?"
He shook his head, not saying a word as he left her once again and walked away...
The door of the microwave bore the brunt of her anger as she stewed about his audacious behaviour. His damn hands were already grazing the tops of her underwear before he freaked out and left. She understood why he left. She got it- loud and clear. He, much like her, was too damned proud to show when things hurt. And it scared the shit out of him.
But...
She could still feel the reckless way he had kissed her and his bruising grip as he held onto her waist then her thighs and she could still feel what he was doing to her.
And he left her to come back with hickeys over his neck thinking it was okay for him to sleep next to her.
How dare he?
She had her pride. She didn't like him and she couldn't care less whether or not he liked her, but to damage her pride? To leave her almost naked and find another woman.
God, he was sick.
He walked in to a familiar scent. He knew this place, he was familiar with it, he was comfortable with it and when he walked in he didn't exist. He was nameless, ageless and by the time he woke up in the morning, the faces he had seen will have disappeared entirely. His eyes immediately sought out the mammoth sized red, tarp backdrop behind the bar as he blinked trying to reacquaint himself with the flashing strobe lights that lit up the club in short flashes. He could get lost- he could simply get lost especially on a night like this where drinks were half priced and DJs were flown in to battle it out.
There was nothing but a mass of writhing dancers before him inviting him with their movements and their smiles and their raucous hollers and he wanted it. He had denied himself for so long but one step into it and he felt as if he had never left at all. It was a mass of anonymity and when he took her, whoever she would be, in his arms, she would never know who he was. She would like the way he felt against her and the way he left her breathless as he touched her and kissed her but she knew that that was it. By the end of the song, they'd forget each other but in those 3 minutes they were all the other needed to feel alive.
He fucking missed this.
He'd give her a fucking reason to believe he wasn't good enough.
...
Her chest hurt so badly. She hated this pain. It was shitty and ugly and she knew why it was so much easier to just not want him. She knew why she never cared or wanted to care. It was just simpler to have not wanted to be with him. To not love the way he made her feel or touched her or kissed her.
She was annoyed. She was so, so annoyed at him, at herself, at everything that led her to this moment that she just hated. It pissed her off. Why did she waste 2 years of her life on him and why did she ever believe she deserved it? She deserved better than him. She was smart and beautiful and she was God- damned intelligent so why the hell did she waste two years of her life on an asshole who just never had the capability to change. He was never good enough for her then and he certainly was not good enough for her now. She was living in a damned fairy tale these past few months and he was right.
He was always, always right.
She needed to stop living in a God-damned fantasy because she would be the only one who would ever get hurt. And it hurt... He was right. It hurt her so badly that all she wanted and all she needed was her sister. She needed her Jannat to hug her and make it better but even she was gone.
Shit.
She pushed her hair out of her face, tying it in a stiff bun before she walked to her room.
Why the hell was she still here?
She opened her drawers, grabbing armfuls of her clothes before dumping them furiously onto her bed. If she knew him, he wouldn't be back until the sun rose and that gave her more than enough damned time to pack up and leave. She kept grabbing at her clothes, praying they would come to an end or that she could just go a little faster but it took so long. It just took so long to get all her clothes out of that stupid bureau.
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the cool wood before her as she closed her eyes.
And just tried to block it all out. Tried to forget what it felt like to hurt this way. To feel as she felt when her parents let her down over and over again. It hurt so much that they never attended her graduations, her awards ceremonies, her school functions. They never visited or phoned and they were never there and it hurt and just when she thought she could forget it...
But she didn't want to forget it.
She didn't want to forget his touch or his kisses or the way he knew where to hold her. She didn't want to forget the way he helped her even though he never wanted to or the way he brushed her hair. She didn't want to forget his soft black hair. She didn't want to forget the whispered words in her ears as he caressed her skin or made love to her. She didn't want to forget him but she didn't want this pain in her heart. She opened her eyes, pretending for only a moment that she could feel his hands around her own as her towel brushed against the skin of his chest. She could feel his heart beat against her back as he held her just a little closer, wrapping his arms around her just a little tighter. She could feel the warmth of his skin as she wrapped the towel around them...
Just for a moment. She'd pretend just for a moment.
She could still feel his lips as they kissed her own and his breath as he blew tiny little kisses to the base of her neck before laying her gently on the bed beneath him.
Just one more moment. Just a moment and then she'll leave. Just one last moment...
She nodded her head, waiting for him to kiss her once again as she felt the towel being pulled from her hands. She could feel the cold chill of their bedroom seep into her body but he soothed it all away with his hands as they roamed over her skin... just feeling. Nothing else but feeling the softness beneath him as he kissed her once.
Twice.
And once again, biting her bottom lip gently...
Stop.
Just stop.
She shook her head banishing those images from her mind before she looked back down at the draw.
There was one last garment tucked deep into the draw. She could feel the cool silk brush against her fingers as she touched it, grabbing hold of it. She laughed, highly unamused at the sight before her. It just had to be that one...
It just had to be that damned white nightie.
She threw it carelessly behind her.
She was almost done.
...
"You're fucking boring, Hoori." He muttered, walking away from her as she rejected his idea of going out with him. She didn't want to go where he went. She didn't want to be caught amongst random strangers as they danced against each other, holding each other closely, touching each other.
She didn't want them touching her.
"It's who I am." She said, looking back down at her laptop. "Deal with it."
"I am." He picked up his car keys from the front table. "Just not with you."
"Thank God..." She muttered loudly enough for him to hear.
He said nothing, choosing only to zip up his jacket before walking out the door. She wondered what he would do if she was actually awake when he walked back in. He wouldn't feel guilty- she'd be naive to think that. He had climbed into their bed often enough forgetting to scrub off tell-tale smudges on his skin that he had to know that she had known.
She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. She wasn't stupid enough to wait for him.
She'd tire herself out and she really didn't see herself sacrificing her sleep just to enjoy a vaguely surprised look on his face.
At least she had her priorities straight...
...
Why the hell did he put their bags upstairs?
She groaned, climbing the stairs one at a time using her arms to practically carry all her body weight. She couldn't handle this. She just wanted to leave! Was it so much to ask that she just leave in peace? She didn't want to drag this on any further and she didn't want to have to feel his tell-tale touches as she walked up each step. She just wanted to get up and get down and leave.
And that was it? She didn't want these little images to pop up in her head.
Her breathing was laboured as she finally ascended the last step. It had taken so much of her energy just to climb the stairs that she wasn't truly sure how she was going to climb back down. But she had to do it. She couldn't wait. She didn't want her own mind to revolt against her and force her to stay. She didn't want old insecurities to surface in her mind and she didn't want to even entertain the notion of convincing herself to stay.
She walked into their room slowly, opening the door to their small walk in closet that held whatever junk they never used. She looked around, almost crying in frustration as her eyes landed on her purple suitcase packed high up near the ceiling.
God, please.
She looked around, feeling her eyes sting with unshed emotion.
She'd have to use his bag. She'd give it back but she couldn't wait. She couldn't spend a moment more in that house.
She tugged open the zip, trying to ignore the pins and needles in her arms as she lifted the solid top. She was right in thinking it wasn't empty but as she picked out its contents and made sense of it all, she felt her throat clog up and her heart constrict almost painfully within her chest.
She needed to go.
She dialled the number shakily, trying to grab hold of her voice before he answered. She couldn't let him know just how much it was hurting.
Please pick up.
Please pick up.
Please pick up.
"Hello?" His voice sounded from the other end.
"Hello."
"Hoori?"
"Yes Uncle Ashraf." She cleared her throat before speaking.
"What's wrong?" He asked worriedly. "Something happened?"
"Uncle Ashraf?" She said, sounding so highly unsure of herself.
"Yes baby?"
"Please come and fetch me."
And she dropped the phone, pressing her closed fist to her forehead before finally allowing herself sit down on the floor and just...
cry.
A/N Wows... Remember guys, We love Mika and Hoori Noori. Let's not choose sides!
Also, dedicated to the awesome hayatiofparadise for leaving me a string of the most awesome comments ever!