| CHAPTER - XII |
DON'T PLAY PRETEND
The next morning, it is an understatement that Mrs. Rodrigues is astonished by the sight she finds in her garden. The Rodrigues siblings are asleep. What's more surprising is: they're sleeping together. Rosanna, Romeo and Xavier have occupied the sofa-cum-bed. On the other hand, Francesco, Fahad and Jésus have taken the liberty to pull up beach chairs and sleeping bags.
They're all strategically placed to face the television screen, which has the word Are you still watching Netflix? written in bold across it.
"Mama," a voice echoes from inside the house calls. "Mama!" The honey filled voice gets closer. "I don't know where any of them are! I'll call them right –" Nawaz's eyes catches the scene and she has to take a moment to register that the scene before her is real.
She's cradling her baby on her arm, Ahaan's head turned away, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Mama . . how did this happen?" She almost laughs in disbelief. How in the world did this ever come to be? Holding Ahaan in one arm, Nawaz fishes out her phone from the back of her light blue pajama pants and steadies the phone to take a picture of the rare right.
Nawaz walks over to Fahad and crouches. "Should we wake Papa up?" Nawaz coos, holding her son over Fahad's face. She sets her boy down, one arm loosely around him. Nawaz brushes his beard and combs a hand through his hair. Fahad stirs a little, going to lay on his back instead.
Ahaan begins to giggle, hitting his fists playfully on his father's stomach. He then moves up and scratches his beard, before going to play with his father's lips and nose. "Papa," the kid brokenly says, patting his father's cheeks. Fahad's eyes shoot open and it makes Ahaan burst into a fit of giggles, running away from his parents and to his grandmother.
Fahad looks up, lifting his head of the beach chair for just a second, before his eyes land on his wife. In his sleepy state, Fahad lifts his hand lets it fall onto the nook of her shoulder, right on her collar bone. His fingers curl to grasp the white t-shirt Nawaz is wearing. He groans and then lets go, closing his eyes once more.
Nawaz smiles, genuinely, admiring how wonderful her husband looks. For a moment she wonders how lucky she is to have scored such a man to be her husband. Nawaz in that moment forgets the pain. So, she leans forward, her lips pink and parted, to cherish a moment of peace.
With a light pressure, Nawaz presses her lips against Fahad's. It's not even a kiss – just a brush of the lips that has her yearning because she hears Francesco loudly groan and complain, "I want to throw up and I haven't even had breakfast yet."
Nawaz abruptly pull aways, eyes diverting and arms wrapping around her torso. Looking up, she catches her child examining the step from the sliding window into the backyard, seemingly wondering if he should take the step or not. Nawaz quickly springs upon the chance to escape and walks over to her, telling him to, "Aaram se, Aahan. Hum ghirna nahi chyate hai." (Be careful, Ahaan. We don't want to fall.)
Romeo is the next one to get up. He yawns incredibly loudly, managing to wake up the rest and then proceeds to go to his room. To be fair, Jésus woke up when Nawaz came but he tried to catch a few moments more of sleep. Rosanna gets up, only yawning once before climbing out, muttering something about taking a shower and making coffee. The most uncomfortable in their impromptious sleep is Xavier. He is still dressed in the suit he was sporting for his dinner with Eli. He too gets up, grabs his blazer and goes off for a shower.
The normality of their morning reactions are only there because they do not want to be doomed in thinking about how their sibling sleepover came to be. They're grown men and woman, sleepovers isn't their thing, nonetheless with their siblings.
One by one, all of them disappear to their bedroom. It's then they all realise that they must have gone to sleep at around five in the morning or so and five hours of sleep is not proving to be enough for any of them. So, most of them manage to fall asleep on their respective beds once more.
Well, except for Romeo. He tosses and turns in his bed, not being able to sleep because he knows that noon is approaching. Pulling out his phone, he begins to message his . . 'booty call'.
Romeo sighs, thinking of something to redeem himself. Before he can, his phone rings with another message and he knows he's fucked now.
Rome isn't desperate to follow up the message with another Corey or I'm sorry, so he puts his phone to one side and goes for a shower. After a refreshing shower, Romeo puts on a dark grey t-shirt, a black zipper and black denim, skinny jeans, and takes a nap. When he wakes up at around one o'clock, he finds that he is the only sibling awake, except for his sister-in-law Nawaz, who's working on a case downstairs, in the living room.
Romeo smiles at her before going to the kitchen to see what the options for lunch are. Their parents have gone out to attend a meal with a few older relatives, so Romeo finds containers of pasta from last night and a beer to accompany it. He ignores the dish, that has been freshly made, laid out on kitchen island, solely because it contains Brussels sprouts.
Walking outside, to the living room, Romeo pulls his phone out, only to have the bell ring. He gobbles a few big forkfuls of pasta in his mouth – for which, Nawaz scolds him (he almost chokes) – before answering the door. "We have bell intercoms for a reason, Romeo," Nawaz calls, flipping a page in the file she is writing in.
Romeo opens the door, swallowing his food quickly, dismissing the very good point Nawaz has made. When he does, he curses the whatever above for having the door not block his view, because it swings inward to his right.
He does so because Cordelia is standing there and she leans up, wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. Romeo's hand go to hold her waist, out of habit, and he kisses her back. Her mouth is ecstasy to him because as soon as he tastes her, the world seems to cease to exist. He cannot concentrate on anything else.
Nevertheless, reality bites in, making him pull away, knowing that his sister-in-law is sitting right there.
"Romeo, who is it?" Nawaz asks, her voice sounding a little concerned but not enough for her to make her get up and come check.
"Just Cordelia!" Romeo answers, his eyes wide.
"Make her have lunch here," Nawaz orders, not looking away from her work.
Romeo turns to look at Cordelia and he glares at her. Her hands are on his shoulders and his still on her waist, when she gives him a smug, yet angry, look in return. Romeo rolls his eyes. "I'll have to see if I want the Devil eating off our plates."
"Shut it, you're an atheist," Cordelia hisses, her hands dropping by her sides.
"Well, I'd be more than willing to sacrifice you for anything," Romeo shoots back, batting his eyelashes at her. "Explain," he demands, referring to the kiss.
"Just a reminder why getting into trouble is worth it," Cordelia snarkly replies, taking a step towards him. "Now your turn."
Romeo looks at her, a little shocked. "You want to me . . "
Cordelia smacks his stomach and then glares at him, folding her arms over her chest. "I want you to apoligise."
Romeo coughs in disbelief. His jaw drops, not believing how stupid she is sounding. He blinks his eyes, before clearing his confusion. "Wait. . so you came all the way here to ask for an apology."
"Oh, I plan on getting one, sweetheart," Cordelia says, slapping his arm, this time.
"Stop fucking hitting me!" Romeo grunts, walking away from the door.
"What's going on?" Nawaz asks, when she hears them beginning to swear.
"Nothing!" Romeo yells. He begins to shut the door on Cordelia, but she shoves her foot in between before he can. "Uhm. Fuck off."
"You're such an ass!" Cordelia yells, pushing the door open and hitting his chest.
Romeo, having had enough of being hit, grabs her wrist and pulls her to him, twisting her hand behind her back. He knows where her weak points are and can expertly trap her in his hold because. . .well, practice.
"I'll apologise. . if you can beat me in a game of footy," Romeo negotiates. Both of them play football (soccer), Cordelia for the girls team and Romeo for the boys team.
"I swear to God, I will have you by the balls," Cordelia mutters, her eyes gazing into his.
Romeo's eyes are traveling all over her face . .her lips, her nose, her cheeks before they look into her silver eyes. His stomach churns in a way that it's seeming to do more often when he looks at her. His mind fogs up and he can only think of one thing to do.
Romeo leans down, slowly inching towards her face. His lips just about press against her, his breath mixing with hers, making him weak at his knees. Before he can move any further, she moves her head back. Romeo almost crumbles at the loss of contact.
"No, no, no," Cordelia whispers, very well aware of how she now she has the upper hand. Breaking free from his hold, she goes down the steps repeating, "A game of football before anything."
Minutes later, Romeo and Cordelia are aggressively 'playing' a game of basketball. They are swearing more than they are playing, but it's fine because (despite them playing for the school football teams) they have made-up rules. So, it doesn't really matter.
"That is such a fucking foul!" Romeo yells, pointing at Cordelia.
"You know what's a foul? You're over six-two!" Cordelia shouts, the ball in her hand.
Similar to their backyard, their front yard is big as well. There is a cobbled ground area for the cars on the right and an area of grass to the left. It makes it easier for them to play various activities and run around like maniacs.
Romeo runs towards Cordelia and kicks the ball away from her feet, then jogging over to the other end of the pitch. "You cunt!" Cordelia screams over the loud Feel It Still by Portugal, The Man playing from the speakers in the garage. She runs after him and jumps on him, not letting him score. Cordelia gets off him and takes the ball between her feet, quickly moving to the other end where she is meant to score.
The goal where she is meant to score is near the side of the living room, meaning they have grasped Nawaz's attention with all their yelling and now Francesco, as well, who has come down after a long nap. Nawaz looks out of the window just in time to see things turn a little ugly . .yet interesting.
Romeo yells a loud Fuck You! , proceeding to then run after her and wrap his arms around her from behind. He tries jumping onto her back but fails, making his legs tangle with hers. This prompts them to fall onto the grassy ground.
Cordelia curses, on the upper hand and tries to keep him down so she can score. Romeo is not having any of it, so he rolls them around, regaining the upper hand. He quickly makes work of grabbing her wrists and pinning them down on either side her head. Cordelia tries to kick his groin, but instead Romeo presses her down with it. He swears that she parted her mouth for just a second before closing it tightly, to make sure a moan doesn't escape her.
Cordelia looks up at him, sighing. Romeo gazes at her . . needless of what he would admit, he is admiring her. Cordelia lifts her head off the ground and goes to capture his lips.
Luckily, Nawaz had turned her head away from them about a minute ago and so, in spite of them being oblivious to her attention before, they are safe.
Romeo's hand courses from holding her hand down to her thigh. He makes sure to press his hand against her chest, stomach as he goes down, which guarantees a reaction from her. Cordelia takes the free hand and slips it into his hair. Romeo hold her thigh and lifts her leg, making her curl it around his torso. Romeo settles comfortably between her legs, pressing up against her in all the right places. Cordelia whispers something against his lips but Romeo can't hear her.
His lips work against her, in soft, languid strokes. Slowly, her tongue slowly found it's way through his parted lips and Romeo swears this is what rainbows taste like. His tongue traced her top lip before closing on it and pulling. With him doing so, Cordelia's hand pulls his hair and it makes him collapse. Luckily, Cordelia doesn't seem to mind his weight because she's too focused on making sure he dies under her touch.
Romeo's hand, in turn, slips under her hugging, yellow crop top, prying at the hem of her bra. He then goes down to her naval and caresses the skin there. He pulls away, just a little, now freeing her other hand. Quickly, he gets onto his knees and picks her up, by wrapping his arms around her waist and placing her on his lap.
With a soft gasp from Cordelia, they close the gap between them and continue their journey to oblivion. Nevertheless, it's a different oblivion. None of them are making moves to prompt sex. Instead, they are focused on just kissing each other.
Romeo lets one hand go to press against her lower back and the other makes it's way up, to cup her jaw and kiss her. Cordelia lets one arm be wrapped around his shoulders from the back and the other undoing the neatness of his hair. Steadily, Romeo gets off his knees and instead, loosely, crosses them.
"Romeo," Cordelia softly whispers in between a kiss. Romeo hushes her, giving her a final kiss.
He softly leans his forehead against hers. There are a million thoughts running through their mind. This is different. This time it was unhurried and a little more . . meaningful. There was a care in it and a hint of passion. They weren't groping each other and set on having sex like they usually do.
"Lets go," Romeo whispers, quickly getting to his feet and helping her up as well. He folds his hand in hers, and it feels natural. It feels normal for them, as if what they are doing isn't messed up.
They make their way past the door and they both keep their eyes focused on the ground. Upstairs, they swiftly slip into Romeo's room. Romeo guides her to the bed and they get onto the bed, both lifted on their knees. Slowly, they fall into an oblivion with their lips finding each other.
After what is quite a long time but feels like a short seconds, Cordelia pulls away, but leaves her face close to his. "What's wrong?" she whispers, her hands cupping his face.
For an unknown reason to him, for once Romeo throws away the rule of them not caring for each other. With a sigh, he answers, "My family."
Cordelia gives him a soft kiss, and Romeo knows its an attempt to get his mind off it regardless of whether or not she will admit it.
Romeo elaborates once she lets go. "It's just. . I don't know how to heal this."
Cordelia gives him a small smile, brushing her fingers through the hair at the side of his head, behind his ear. She doesn't know what to say. She isn't sure how she can make him feel better.
This isn't her role to play. They aren't dating.
Nevertheless, after a few minutes, when they have fallen to lay beside each other, Romeo begins to tell the story of this morning. "Regardless how unfazed we all seemed, it was pretty shocking that were all sleeping together."
Cordelia giggles, turning to her side to face him. "It's a good thing, right? With all the commentary you do at the movies, I'm sure some bonding must have happened."
Romeo, who is on his back, turns his head to look at her. His eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow. "I do not give commentary when watching films."
"You do," Cordelia mutters, leaning in.
"I don't!" Romeo protests, but his voice grows weaker as she unhurriedly approaches him, leaning over him.
"Hmm, sure," Cordelia whispers, her hand cupping a cheek.
Romeo manages to get a final, "I don't," in before Cordelia hushes him and presses their lips together. It's soft and gentle for the first few minutes.
Then, they pull away to look at each other and Romeo can see her silver eyes shining. Her hair is crowning her and something flashes in her eyes but Romeo is too inexperienced to understand what exactly it means. When Romeo grips her waist and Cordelia squeezes his bicep in return, they know that things have become too serious right now.
And with this realisation comes another one. They know they have to do more to make sure that the physical want for each other is all that is needed. So, after a brief moment of looking into each others eyes and thawing the fronts they put up for the entire world to see, Romeo pushes her top over her chest and leans down. Cordelia removes his shirt and undoes his belt, then moves to unzip him. Romeo is prompted to pull at her Adidas tracks, down her legs and free them from the clothing that keeps them apart.
Minutes later, they're muffling each other's moans and Romeo tries to keep the bed from creaking but it becomes difficult.
They shouldn't be doing this. Not with his entire family present downstairs. .In spite of this, their lack of control is a testament to how Cordelia makes Romeo feel when she is with him – and maybe, just maybe how Romeo makes Cordelia feel when he is with her.
-
Downstairs, Francesco is eating his lunch, scrolling through his social media when a message pops up on his screen. His eyes almost bulge when he reads the first few messages, but replies quickly, knowing not to test her patience. So, the following conversation ensues:
She then follows it up with telling him to dress smart (because people are going to be there) and Francesco knows that something about this dinner is going to be benefit her alone. Nevertheless, he figures sometimes you have to test risky waters to get to know someone. He's happy and content with the invitation and knows that this is the most kind invitation he will ever earn from Sood-e and that he should make the most of it.
"Francesco, can I borrow your Mac charger?" Xavier asks, coming to stand before his younger brother. Xavier looks fresh, having taken a good nap and a long shower, Francesco supposes Francesco looks up and nods, getting off the couch and heading up the stairs.
They go up and Xavier silently follows Francesco into his room, where he begins to rummage through his bag to find his charger (he had been stealing his mother's for the two weeks.) (Past week – it's only been a week?)
"Where'd you go, yesterday?" Francesco asks, choosing not to stay in a dulling silence.
Xavier's head snaps up and he looks at his brother. "What?"
Francesco ook over his shoulder, crouched by his suitcase and notices that Xavier has gone pale. "Dude, it's not a trick question – where'd you go?"
"Oh," Xavier mutters. He clears his throat, "Uhm. . I was out with a friend."
Francesco hears the reluctance and hesitation in his voice and he smirks. It is obvious that Xavier is lying right through his teeth. Deciding that if they are going to be here for another few weeks, Francesco should make the most of this, as well. So, he goes to pull his brother's leg, "Oh, really? What's their name?"
"Does it matter?" Xavier snaps, not enjoying this invasion of privacy.
Francesco shrugs, moving to look through his other bag for it. "I'm just asking . . is it a lady friend?"
Xavier rolls his eyes, "It's Eli."
"Eli?" Francesco repeats, knowing that he has heard this name before. Then it suddenly comes to him. "Oh, Eli! The son of your boss, right?"
Xavier mutters, "Yes."
"Are you guys best friends or something? You've like brought him almost everywhere where a date is required . .and not to mention the countless number of dinners you've been on and how you bring him for the solo child Christmas dinner Mom and Dad have for each of us. .I mean it has been a joy to have him around and it's been three years since you two –"
Francesco stills and Xavier visibly stiffens.
Xavier's body shivers, as his mind digests the connections Francesco is making. Francesco, too, is doing the same. For years, Xavier has kept his sexuality hidden from his family. It is not because of them, it's because of the society they are a part of. He thinks that by coming out he will become a burden to his family – if only he knew that no matter what happens, he is who he is and that his sexuality does not define him. It's a part of him but it will not affect the way his family and friends view him or treat him.
Xavier almost wants to cry and run away from this conversation all together. He knows by doing so he is going to seem more suspicious and he begins to prepare for the worst. His mind has a million thoughts, worrying him and draining him to his core. He begins to panic, not knowing how to execute further or exit the conversation. Xavier maps out the possible responses he might get and he wonders if Francesco has realised something at all.
Francesco drops a t-shirt he had lifted to look under and gets up, to turn around. He faces his elder brother and in all his life he has never seen Xavier so scared, so vulnerable and so raw. His brother has tears in his eyes and it appears as though all the blood from his body has been drained. With a attentive voice, Francesco calls in the softest manner, "Xavier?"
Francesco isn't startled by the realisation but looking at his brother has made him feel a pity. Not a pity for Xavier's sexuality but a sorry because his brother is hiding it because he doesn't feel comfortable with the people surrounding him. Francesco momentarily wonders if his parents have been unloving to Xavier and if he has been unsupportive throughout Xavier's life.
"Xavier, are you dating him?" Francesco chooses to ask. Xavier looks at his brother, his eyes widening. Francesco knows that it isn't a look of Why are you asking me that? but rather a look of How can I tell you? Francesco quickly follows it up, lovingly saying, "It's okay, Xavier. It doesn't define you –"
Fahad walks into the room, announcing, "Hey, I heard you were looking for a charger! Chess, I've got yours with –" When he sees the look on their faces, Fahad quiets down. Xavier quickly looks away and Francesco clears his throat, trying to pretend that nothing happened.
Francesco pats his jeans, before walking over to the eldest, "Thanks for the charger, Fahad. Xavier needs it so –"
Fahad cuts in, "Is everything alright?"
Francesco doesn't answer. He wants to, he wants to get the spotlight off Xavier but he doesn't know how. His eyes look at Xavier and Fahad follows his gaze.
Before Fahad can ask any further questions, Xavier runs out of the room, his heart only telling him to go somewhere that has always been his safe haven.