Is there anything quite as blissful as an amble by the seashore? It’s like walking through an airy womb of sky and sound. The sea is a cerulean-blue and the beach appears as though it had been dipped in gold. You look around and admire the feng shui perfection of the beach. The palm trees are lined in serried rows, their leaves swaying gracefully in the gentle breeze that always seemed to accompany the ocean wherever it travelled. They have an Eden-green beauty that cannot be rivalled were you to travel to the far end of the universe.
An array of yachts, each one more exquisite than the last, rock soothingly from side-to-side to the gentle rhythmic rolling of the waves.
A mist of food scents drift towards you, drool pooling your mouth, threatening to spill from the corners of your lips. The growling of your stomach reminded you of a terrifying noise you heard when camping in the woods once. You can detect flame-grilled tuna, exotic peppers and zingy onions. Laughter accompanies the rumbling sound of waves crashing onto the shore, children squealing, music blaring, all from the locals enjoying everything the beach had to offer.
The satisfied purring from Kadar as he nibbles contentedly on an ice-cream brings a smile to your face. You risk a glance in his direction. He doesn’t appear to notice you staring at him, or, more specifically, at the melting rainbow drizzling down his chin, the waffle cone, and over his fingers. Seemed like the sun was devouring it faster than he was, not that he seemed to mind in the slightest.
Being far too distracted by Kadar’s interesting eating habits, you failed to hear the hurried warning cry from the distance. It’s only when Kadar squeaked and stammered uselessly, pointing directly ahead, did you detract your gaze from him, and in the direction to where he was pointing.
Thwack!
Pain was the first thing to register. W-what was that!? Then the sand, scorching and irritating as it hurried to trickle into any openings of your clothing it could find. The world was spinning, and if this was a cartoon, no doubt there’d be tiny birds fluttering in circles around your head. Hands instinctively raise and cup your throbbing nose which had taken the brunt of the attack, but luckily nothing was broken. Rushing footsteps rumbled the ground as they neared, Kadar’s three faces hovering millimetres above your own until - with a shake of your head - they merge back into one, allowing you to see the concern etched onto his foreign features.
“Ugh...why is everyone knocking me down today..?”
You do your best to ignore the painful pulsating of your nose as Kadar helps you to your feet, his waffle cone now abandoned in the sand. You mutter a word of gratitude and delicately dab at your nostrils with the tip of your finger to check for blood; fortunately there wasn’t any.
“I told you we shouldn’t have let Arno play.” Some girl mutters, her fist roughly connecting with the shoulder of the unsuspecting male beside her - which merely earned her a glare in response.
Arno, huh? It was easy to locate your assailant due to the irrefutable guilt currently contorting his features.
“Well what were you doing throwing it so hard in the first place?”
“Hard?! Dude, that was a gentle lob, if anything!”
“Oh, please! If it was so ‘gentle’, then why did it almost kill the new girl?!”
The two began talking over each other.
“I’m sorry about them.”
Tearing your mildly irritated focus away from the two still bickering, you’re met by a pair of coal coloured orbs, which happened to belong to the guy whom had received a punch mere moments ago.
“They don’t know how to behave in public. I’m Malik.” He introduced with a tiny, yet amiable, smile.
You extend a hand to shake, though it feels like you can only move in slow motion. The sound of crashing waves and trilling of seagulls fade away, leaving silence to stand alone in their place. You’re vaguely aware of what a silly, romantic cliché you’re experiencing when the contact of his palm on yours clears your mind and time clicks back to its normal pace.
You must have imagined it.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His strong fingers curl around your hand in firm, but warm, handshake.
“He’s my brother,” Kadar chirped, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.
Ah. That would explain why he looked so familiar.
“Nice to meet you, Malik. I’m (Y/N).”
.....is what you think about saying.
What comes out instead is a string of muddled awkwardness and embarrassment - which has the unfortunate effect of highlighting your inability to cope in a normal social setting. “Oh, uh, s-sure. Er, you t-too, I mean.” Kadar looks at you oddly, then to his brother. “I, uh, call me (Y/N).”
Malik’s lips press into a thin line. Is he trying to repress a laugh? “’(Y/N)’ it is,” he flashes a smile, leaving your hand shockingly cold as he took his own hand back and concealed it within the front pocket of his jeans. “It’s a lovely name, if I may say so.”
“Th-thanks.” You consider returning the compliment, but there’s an extremely high possibility that something inappropriate may slip out instead. Probably best to keep your mouth shut.
Scratching a non-existent itch on your neck, you fumble to come up with another topic of conversation when Kadar beats you to it. Thankfully.
“Where’s everyone else, Malik? I thought we were all meeting here at ten?”
Malik raised his shoulders in a lazy fashion while angling his head in the direction of the two still bickering. “Connor had to cancel last minute. He’s still adjusting to the new living arrangements. Aveline called and said she’d swing by later on. And as for Altaïr...speak of the asshole.”
Both you and Kadar looked towards the cause of Malik’s irritation.
Hot damn.
Your (colour) eyes swept over the swaggering figure quickly approaching, immediately being drawn to the shimmering gold which were his eyes. Never in your life had you seen eyes so beautiful and unique. As he drew closer, his features became clearer.
Altaïr appeared to be around the same age as you, maybe a few years older, and is somewhat overdressed for this venue.
You immediately notice that, from a purely aesthetic perspective, he is one of those people who look naturally, effortlessly, ridiculously attractive. Objectively speaking, of course.
“What are you staring at?”
The smile slipped from your face. Oh...he’s an asshole. Suddenly this Altaïr fellow wasn’t as appealing as he was before he opened his mouth.
You were quick to avert your gaze, distracting yourself with the ring on your index finger. It was a family heirloom – well, that’s what your mother liked to refer to it as. She had just bought it during one of her shopping splurges, realised it didn’t fit her finger, and gave it to you instead. Still, you couldn’t imagine being without it. Simple, yet beautiful.
“This is (Y/N).” You glanced up at the mention of your name, finding Kadar bouncing and gesticulating beside you. “She’s visiting.”
Golden orbs flickered to your shifting form before dropping to the cigarette in his hand. Wisps of smoke rose into the air as soon as the disgusting little stick was lit, causing a crinkle in your nose as the putrid scent assaulted your nostrils. Did he have to blow the smoke directly in your face?!
Neither Malik or Kadar seemed bothered by the smell, but you were finding it increasingly difficult to breathe; so much so that you abruptly find yourself leaning closer to Malik, hoping the faint musk of his cologne would be enough to mask the smoke trying to kill you.
Much to your annoyance, there appeared to be a glimmer of amusement in golden eyes as Altaïr noticed your rising discomfort. “If the smell is bothering you so much, perhaps you should move.” He gave a tiny shooing motion to emphasize his statement.
If it wasn’t for the sound of your name being called you would’ve decked him right in the schnoz.
Your eyes drift past the Levantine jerk in front of you, locking onto the distinctive figure of Lucy in the distance, waving one arm in the air, as if encouraging you to make haste. But that wasn’t what captured your attention. No. What captured your attention was the fact that Lucy was accompanied by Desmond and two police officers.
“Why is that lady calling you, (Y/N)?” Kadar asked with the slightest of head tilts.
Your bottom lip gets ensnared by the top row of your teeth the same time your brow knits together. “That’s Lucy.” The words come out as a mumble. “My cousin.”
Malik, seemingly sensing your growing trepidation, places a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t be so quick to expect the worse, (Y/N).”
The smile on his face was enough to calm your nerves, or at least provide you with a false sense of security. “Y-yeah, you’re right. I’m worrying myself over nothing.” That didn’t even sound convincing to your own ears.
Warmth envelops you as two, surprisingly strong, arms encircle your torso. “It sucks that you have to leave.” Kadar’s breath tickles your ear and - despite knowing that bad news may possibly be given in a few minutes – a faint blush tickles your cheeks. “I was hoping we’d get to hang out today.”
You offered a smile. “So was I. But hey, I’ve got two weeks of vacation here, so we can spend every other day together.”
That seemed like a more than acceptable response for he was grinning ear-to-ear.
After tossing around a few goodbyes, you knew you could no longer delay the inevitable. It was time to go.
A sense of dread washes over you with each heavy step. Nausea bubbled in the lowest pit of your stomach; and with good reason too. The first thing you notice when stopping before the group of four was the redness of Lucy’s eyes. She had been crying, that much was obvious. Desmond gave a solemn shake of his head before his eyes fell to the sand.
“What’s going on?” You asked slowly, feeling the once steady pace of your heart gradually increase to a arhythmical pounding.
The balding officer took the liberty of stepping forward and addressing you. “Miss (L/N), I’m afraid we have some bad news.”
Fear gripped your heart. “What sort of bad news?”
What he said next made your world fall apart.
“We regret to inform you that your parents died in an automobile accident late last night.”