Harmonious Hearts 2017 Page 20

  This is my chance to not seem so damn stupid. “Yes, of course, glad to help!”

  His smile softens and honestly, I think my heart stops beating. “Thank you. I was wondering if you’ve seen a guy who looks a bit like me. Same height, longer hair, probably had coffee and another guy with him?”

  Well, I definitely would remember if I saw someone like him. I could never forget a face so stunning.

  My cheeks flush red at the shallow thought, and I lick my chapped lips before answering. “Sorry, man, haven’t seen him here.”

  The man nodded, scowling slightly now. Seriously, is this guy a model? No one can possibly look this hot. “Okay, sorry for waking you, then. Thanks.”

  “No problem!” I barely manage to choke the words out before the man marches away, his hips swaying gently as he walks. I let out a deep breath and turn back to the laptop, my fingers poised over the keys—and then I realize something. This is the moment where I swoop in and save the hottie in distress. I ask for his number, tell him I’ll do whatever I can to find this missing person of his. Or maybe I can offer to search for the person with him. While we look for the guy, we can talk about ourselves. I can woo him with my charms, and when we find the person, he will be so grateful, and if I’m ultra-lucky, he might let me take him out.

  Forget the assignment. I have a man to get!

  I stand up abruptly, a wide grin on my face as I turn to where he walked off. “Hey, how about I—”

  And he’s not there anymore.

  I can’t help the droop in my shoulders or the melancholic sigh that escapes me. I shake my head before glancing gloomily back at my still unfinished paper. “Looks like it’s just you and me now,” I mutter to the computer, stretching lightly before getting back to work.

  “AND WHY,” I drawl out, curling my lips up in annoyance, “do I have to go along to this thing with you?”

  Rashid whimpers, eyes wide and pitiful as he pouts at me. “Come on, Salil,” he whines, dragging his eyes away from me as he juggles between not burning the omelet in the pan and begging. “You’ve been in a pissy mood since last week. Lighten up! You’ve finished your assignment, and I’m sure there will be plenty of hot guys you can fawn over instead of hood guy.”

  I scoff, sneering at him grumpily. “I highly doubt that I’m going to find someone better than him at a costume party. Who organized this stupid thing anyway?”

  “Hey, it won’t be stupid! This guy in my class, Nojus, loves parties, and he decided he wanted a dress-up party for his eighteenth. It’s also a celebration for finally getting out of high school, so obviously I’m going!” He hums out a merry tune as he puts the omelet on top of the bowl of rice and plops down beside me on the couch.

  “That still doesn’t tell me why I have to go,” I grunt out through gritted teeth, and I send him a scathing glare over my glasses when I see him rolling his eyes at me. “Why can’t you be a good brother and let me wallow in my misery?”

  “Because”—I grimace lightly, barely able to understand what he’s saying through the food stuffed in his mouth—“I’m an exceptional brother, and I refuse to let you drown in chips and gravy—like you always do when you’re getting over a crush. It’s not like Nojus will care, after all.”

  Blood rushes to my cheeks at the reminder of my pathetic routine. “We don’t even have costumes,” I grumble under my breath, which I instantly regret when I spot the mischievous smirk on Rashid’s face.

  He jumps up from the couch, and I yelp when the food almost spills on me as he tosses the bowl onto the table. I flail about, a choked squawk, and he only laughs as he runs into his bedroom. Annoyed words build up in my throat, but they instantly die the second he emerges from his room.

  “No. I’m not wearing that.”

  “Come on, Salil! You know you want it!”

  “No, stay away from me, I swear I’m going to tell Mama, get back, Rashid—”

  IF THERE’S one thing about Rashid I should never forget, it’s that he is infuriatingly, annoyingly persistent.

  I spy a random kid staring at me with awe-filled eyes, and I glower at him until he scampers away. A sigh leaves me, and I return to my fun activity of moodily observing the crowd of exuberant teenagers dancing around like animals. Rashid disappeared the second we got here, and now I’m stuck brooding in the corner. Sure, there are a few hot guys here, but I’m almost positive I won’t be taken seriously wearing this thing.

  Out of all the outfits Rashid could give me, it had to be a prince costume. The jokes are endless.

  “Hey Prince-boy, come to save your damsel in distress? Or did you get lost again?” A guy dressed as a werewolf cackles as he walks by, and I snarl at him.

  “Keep walking, fuzzy boots, or this prince is going to turn you into a damsel!” I bark back, and at least there’s some satisfaction in watching him skitter away. I glumly stare down at my cup of water, grateful there’s no alcohol here for Rashid to “accidentally” drink, but also slightly disappointed at the lack of alcohol for me to down.

  “Yearning for some coffee, Your Highness?”

  Okay, that’s one of the strangest pickup lines I’ve ever heard. I turn to face the person, ready to shoot out an insult.

  Except the guy talking to me is the hottie from the library.

  I snap my mouth shut, unable to look away from him. Dear God, he looks like sin in those dark jeans, snug around his legs, and the vest tightly pressed against his chest. He has a dark green hood pulled over his head, the shadow it casts over his face making his bright eyes pop even more, and when the hell did I get an obsession for hooded men? The scratch on his lips has healed up, at least, and I catch sight of the bow and the quiver of arrows attached to his back.

  “Robin Hood?” I weakly guess. He quirks his lips up, his hood falling forward as he tilts his head down.

  “Yes. And you must be,” his eyes rake over me swiftly, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, “my Prince Charming—glasses included. A pleasure to meet you again.”

  “A-and you,” I stutter out, gulping the fear down before I can freeze up. “I’m Salil—brother of a friend of the host.” Stupid, I sound so stupid.

  He chuckles, a deep rumbly sound that almost makes me swoon. “Aras. I’m a cousin of the host. Normally,” his lips curl up into a smirk, so cute, “I steal to give to the poor, but I think I’ll make an exception with you.”

  “Oh yeah?” My mouth is abnormally dry, and the croaky tone that leaves me is embarrassing. Is it me, or are my glasses fogging up? “What are your intentions, then?”

  He hums thoughtfully, crossing his arms against his chest, which honestly does not help me think at all. “Maybe I’ll steal the prince and keep him for myself.”

  He winks. My heart is immediately running around like a headless chicken. This guy, with his cheesy, almost cringeworthy puns, has broken me. I’m ruined.

  “Want to get out of here?” Oh, he’s touching my hand—I must be dying. “Nojus won’t care, and I know a pretty nice place where we can eat.”

  “In this outfit?” I gesture at myself, cursing the stupid getup in my head. But he only shrugs, his eyes alight with mischief as he tugs me along.

  “Personally, I think it’s a great outfit. It looks exactly like the one in the movies, after all.”

  So maybe I should thank Rashid for the outfit. “You sure you want to take me out?”

  He flashes me a toothy grin, looking down at me with a glow in his eyes. “First time out of your castle, Your Highness? Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

  My heart officially melts into a puddle of happiness. I can only smile goofily as he whisks me out of the party.

  “SO”—RASHID waggles his eyebrows while drawling the words out—“what’s he like in the sack?”

  Blood rushes to my face, but I attempt to give him a casual shrug in response. “It’s none of your business what goes on between Aras and me.”

  “Come on, Salil.” He’s whining now, and a not-so-tiny voice i
n my head screams to get away before I die of shame. “At least tell me if he’s good? Please?”

  I harrumph, muttering to myself, “I’m sure he is.”

  For a second, I don’t realize what I just said. Then Rashid is choking on his drink, and it hits me that I literally cannot keep my mouth shut. I am so stupid.

  “Are you trying to tell me,” and he gives me an appalled look, as if I had murdered someone right in front of him, “that you two haven’t done anything yet?”

  Forget red cheeks, my whole body is on fire. “We haven’t had the time,” I mumble.

  “Two months!” he splutters and suddenly manages to spew out more horrified words. “Two months since you’ve met, and nothing?”

  “Shut up, Rashid,” I groan out, and maybe he can see the misery in my eyes because he actually listens for once. I take a deep breath and just… let it out. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. He hasn’t done anything. I’ve tried to, you know, hint at more, but he doesn’t seem to notice!”

  Rashid scrunches his nose, pursing his lips in concentration. “Didn’t you sleep over at his house a few times? I thought something happened.”

  Now I’m not even holding back the scowl. “Nope, we just watched movies. I mean, it was awesome,” I hurriedly backtrack, “and going there wasn’t bad at all. It was great, in fact, only….”

  “You expected something more?” he prompts, and my only answer is a groan. “That’s it, then. Tomorrow, you go over to his house and get your sexy on.”

  “Rashid!” What did I do in my past life to deserve him? “Maybe Aras is the type of guy who doesn’t have sex until after marriage. Seriously, leave it. I shouldn’t force him.”

  “Uh-huh, with a hot bod like that, he definitely hasn’t slept with anyone before,” he scoffs, his face a stone slate. “Besides,” he adds, like an afterthought, “you don’t need to force him to do anything. Just go talk to him, and everything will work out fine.”

  “But, Rashid—”

  “La-la-la, I can’t hear you!”

  I hate my brother so much sometimes.

  DEEP BREATHS. In, out. In, out. I can do this. I can do this.

  I push up my glasses and glance at Aras from the corner of my eye. He’s watching the movie intently, white hoodie fit snugly over him. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders, and it’s too tempting to just rest against him and fall into a peaceful lull. But there are more important things, and I force myself to sit up straight.

  Aras gives me a concerned look. “Are you all right, Salil?”

  The worry in his voice almost makes me retreat from this endeavor, but I need to know.

  “Aras…,” I whisper, leaning closer to him. A spark of desire grows as I press myself against him, our bodies warming each other. He lets me kiss him, and even though he feels a bit more tense than normal, I relax into the kiss. He raises his hands to caress my cheeks, tenderly holding on to me. I sigh, my mind hazy as we do this slow dance.

  I let my hands roam, moving up his body from his hips to his chest. Aras begins to fidget but does nothing else, so I reach for the hem of his shirt. I lift it up, my hands skimming his skin. I exhale against his mouth, excitement making my heart beat faster. This is it; this is the moment. This is proof that he actually desires me!

  I reach down to the buckle of his pants, unfastening them—

  He grasps my wrists, and I let out a pained gasp as his grip tightens. I peek up into his eyes over my glasses. My heart weighs down, and I can barely hear it over the sound of my panting. Why did he stop me? Did I do something wrong?

  “Aras?” I furrow my brows, trying to figure out what I did. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

  For some reason, his eyes appear duller than normal. Aras looks at me with a yearning gaze, as if I were somehow out of reach. But he has me. Doesn’t he?

  “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  My head suddenly feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton balls. I can’t understand anything he’s saying. “I’m sorry”—my voice sounds muffled for some reason—“what are you saying, Aras?”

  His eyes are aflame, concern clear in those brilliant amber pools. “It’s not you, I swear. I’m asexual.”

  Asexual?

  “I don’t feel attraction to people.” For once, he’s the one babbling, looking everywhere but at me. “I don’t—I feel nothing when I see people’s bodies. It’s not you specifically; it’s everyone. It’s complicated and you’ve thrown me off, and—Salil? Salil, can you hear me?”

  He doesn’t want me. Aras doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  Eyes stinging and vision blurred, I rip myself out of his arms and march to the door, slamming it shut even as I hear his voice behind me.

  I don’t understand.

  WARMTH ENVELOPS my body, heaviness seeping into my bones and anchoring me. There is nothing but the warmth and silence lulling me to dreamless sleep. No worries plague me, just peace and quiet….

  The door crashes open, Rashid’s booming voice shattering the stillness.

  “Get your fat butt up!” Light bursts through the dark as the blanket is torn off me, and I hiss at the sight of my brother standing over me. “Don’t you hiss at me,” he harrumphs, striding over to the window and opening the blinds. The room is suddenly brighter than it’s been since… a few days, at least.

  Counting the days since that day is one of the last things I want to do.

  “Leave me alone,” I grumble, not even bothering to reach for my glasses. “You’ve been content to stay away for the past few days. Can’t you just continue to do that?”

  “Exactly, it’s been days!” He throws his hands up in exasperation, groaning out annoyed words. “I’ve barely seen you eat since you came back from his house, and I refuse to let this continue!” He points at what appears to be a bowl placed on my study desk, body tensed up and expression close to seething. “Eat.”

  “Not hungry.” I grab my blanket, and I’m ready to go back to sleep when his words reach me.

  “I will not hesitate to call Mama if this keeps up.”

  Mama, although kind and loving and perfect, can be extremely scary when pissed off. Whenever I do something wrong, her image haunts me—eyes bright against her dark skin, her headscarf an iron helmet doing nothing to soften her looks. I tilt my head up in challenge, glaring at him as hard as I can. “You wouldn’t dare to call her here.”

  “Oh yes I would.” The way he reaches for his phone is a threat, and we both know it. I reluctantly get out of bed, avoiding his eyes as I sit at the desk and shovel food into my mouth. Soon enough the whole bowl is empty, and I push myself out of the chair.

  “There, I’m done—now leave me be.”

  “Oh no you’re not.” I let out a quiet groan as I’m pushed back into the chair, held down by his hand on my head. “We are going to talk about this.”

  “Rashid,” I growl out in warning, but he only rolls his eyes and grabs a chair for himself.

  “So,” he starts, sitting down in the chair with all the grace of a seal, “what do you mean when you say that ‘he doesn’t want you’? And please”—he cuts me off before a word can escape me—“explain it to me in detail.”

  I contemplate the idea of lying down and going back to sleep, but his gaze darts over to the phone in warning. I bite my lip hard, glaring at the floor in front of me before spitting the words out. “Fine—he says he’s asexual. He doesn’t want me, doesn’t desire me, and he never will. Now leave me to wallow in my despair.”

  “He’s asexual?” I hear him mutter to himself before falling silent. I let out a relieved huff, ready to go back to sleep now that the matter has been resolved. Just as I’m getting up, though, Rashid jumps out of the chair with the liveliness of a puppy. “No problem, then! If that’s all this is about, we can easily solve the misunderstanding! Come on, get up and get dressed!”

  “Wait, Rashid,” I splutter, trying to get a word in as he rushes to my dresser and pulls out different cloth
es from the drawers. “What the hell are you doing? What are you even talking about?”

  He smirks at me, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You are going to clear up this whole issue with Aras so that I can stop watching you mope around the house.”

  Hell, no. “Stop meddling in my personal business!”

  “I’m not Rashid if I do nothing! Now stay still—”

  “Get the hell away from me, you idiotic buffoon!”

  STUPID BROTHER, stupid Aras, stupid me. Why did I come here?

  I tap my foot against the tiled floor at a furious pace, cursing myself for ever listening to Rashid. Anxiety builds up in me as I bore my gaze into the door.

  I should just go.

  But what if he’s willing to listen to me?

  My foot taps even faster now, and I have to force myself to stop the nervous action. I’m still deliberating my next move when a shadow falls over me. I freeze up and stare as a hand reaches out and turns the door handle.

  “It’s open, you know.” A shiver runs through me at the feeling of air against my ear, the whispered words barely discernable. I squash down the desire that threatens to appear and walk in as fast as possible. I keep my eyes down, and it’s only when we are both inside that I look at him.

  No one talks as Aras closes the door, locking it up properly before turning back to face me. Worry fills me as I note the darker bags under his eyes, his brows furrowed together in agitation.

  “I’m just here to talk,” I blurt out, biting my lips as the words tumble out. His gaze snaps to mine, bright eyes sharp as they pierce into me.

  “You didn’t seem so eager to talk a few days ago,” he says, only a slight edge in his tone revealing his irritation.

  I purse my lips, biting back the words rushing to fly out. “I wasn’t ready then,” I whisper, choosing my words with care. “I’m ready now. I want to understand.”

  For a moment, he’s still. Then he suddenly appears to deflate, his body becoming less tense and slumping forward. A weary sigh escapes his lips, and the way he rubs the bridge of his nose makes my heart sink to my stomach. I definitely shouldn’t have come. It’s not like Aras would want to talk after what I did.