6 I Remember

This is a bad idea. I should go home. What was I thinking, I shouldn't be here. This can only end badly. I tug at the hem of my blue floral print dress suddenly self-conscious. Maybe I should've worn jeans, maybe I should've put my hair up. I look like a kid. This was the dumbest idea I've ever had.

That's it, I'm going home.

Zia will forgive me, I'll get her some extra candy next time.

"You know you've actually got to knock, that's how doors work." Emma says sarcastically from somewhere behind me. We've been standing out here for a few minutes now while I work up the courage to go inside and face my past.

I turn to her, and I can tell she sees the panic in my eyes, "I can-"

The door swings open behind me and my entire body freezes. Emma's eyes are the size of saucers but before she can give anything more away I'm attacked by a small ball of energy. Zia launches herself at me and wraps her arms around my legs, squealing in delight. The tension evaporates from my body and I smile despite myself. Reaching down I stroke her velvety soft midnight hair, "Happy Birthday, Angel!"

"You're late!" she pouts, and then without giving me the chance to respond or make an excuse she's tugging me into the house with far too much strength for a five-year-old. "Come see all my presents," and then she's off telling about every gift she's received and which ones she likes best. We stumble into the living room, me clumsily following Zia and Emma walking a safe distance behind us.

Haider really went all out today, there isn't a surface in here that isn't pink. The normally clean-cut modern interior of the Haider home now looks as if a rainbow and unicorn had a baby. Everything matches the exact shade of pink as Zia's princess dress and fairy wings. It's adorable, although I think Haider might disagree.

He sits on the armchair near the street-facing window, and I've never seen him look this menacing. But that might just be the fact that he's a six-foot behemoth surrounded by glitter and frills and it just makes him look more out of place. I'm grinning when he turns to me.

"I don't want to hear a single word out of you," he warns, wagging his finger at me.

I laugh, "I was just thinking you look especially pretty today." He stands and the effect of his height and his surrounding is the most comical contrast.

"Alright, get out of my house" he rolls his eyes, "kids today have no respect." Emma and I are both fighting smiles. Our eyes meet for a split second and it's unavoidable, we burst into loud, delighted giggles and Haider just grumbles something under his breath and crosses his impressive arms over his broad chest.

"Dad, where'd you leave the-" my laughter dies in my throat at the familiar voice. Before I can stop myself I look across the room and lock eyes with him.

Dastan.

My mouth goes dry, and my heart takes off like a startled bird. Oh, that's not good. He looks so much like the last time I remember seeing him. I can't look away. I'm distantly aware that the other people in the room are silent too, most likely watching us. The air is harder to breathe in suddenly, heavier. I feel suffocated; I don't know what to do.

He's watching me just as intently. His dark eyes are unreadable, which is different than what I'm used to. I've always been able to tell what he's thinking from the look in his eyes. Now they're just closed off, guarded. I think it makes him look older. Although that might be the stubble lightly sprinkled across his hard jaw. He's got an earring pushed through his left earlobe, a small black cross dangling off it. Those are definitely new. So is the tattoo I see peaking over the collar of his navy blue sweater. God. Has he always been that… big?

I don't remember him being that big. He's always been tall but now he's as broad as Haider and quite a bit taller. I feel like he didn't always look like this but I can't exactly trust the last memories I have of him. Maybe I'm wrong but I don't know. What I am sure of is that the entire look is intimidating. It's at that point I realize I've been staring and haven't said anything. I open my mouth to speak, and the words stick. Lord, help me. Giving an awkward little cough, I try again, "Uhm, Hi" it sounds meek, unsure. I hate it.

He doesn't respond, just looks at me for a few seconds longer. I can't read any expression on his face. He turns to Emma, and a smile breaks across his face like the first rays of light over a magnificent sea. "So you're just gonna stand there and act like you don't know me?" he asks her. My heart does a stupid little stutter. I glance at Emma, she gives me a look before turning to him.

"Well, I can't help it," she smiles warmly, "you're almost unrecognizable." He chuckles and opens his arms in invitation and she doesn't hesitate. They embrace and I'm left feeling even more unsteady. Does he really hate me? I glance at Haider, unsure if it's just me or if really did just ignore me entirely. He's already watching me, there's a look in his eyes I don't care to decipher. Hastily, I look away before I give away too much.

Emma steps out of the circle of Dastan's arms, looks back at me and my stomach drops at the look on her face. "You remember Kiera, right?" it's an admonishment, we all hear it. I'm sure that my face has gone ruby, this is honestly mortifying. But not as mortifying as what comes next because he looks at me and I know that this isn't going to end well.

It's a look I don't recognize on his beautiful face, it's almost a sneer. "I remember her," a small nod, somehow the action seems predatory. "The question is; does she remember me?" Emma's jaw drops and if I weren't so shocked I might laugh at the look on her face. I feel my eyes widen dramatically, and I catch the motion of Haider's head snapping in Dastan's direction. The heaviness from earlier returns tenfold. I don't know how to respond to what he just said. It's a low blow and the Dastan I knew wouldn't have said something like that, especially not to me.

I just stand there like a stone, until a feminine voice comes from the doorway behind Dastan. She saying something in a language I don't understand but It's clear she's upset. He steps out of the way revealing Zahra, Haider's wife. She grips Dastan's forearm in a way that I'd think would hurt if not for the fact that she's about five feet tall and he could probably lift her clean off the ground with one arm.

"Dastan Haider," she screeches, "That was absolutely uncalled for!" He doesn't look remotely sorry about it. "What is wrong with you?" His eyes go distant and I have a sinking feeling he doesn't plan to respond. From what I know of Zahra that won't go over well. The last thing I want to do is ruin Zia's party with whatever this is.

"Its fine," I say, I recognize I don't sound fine but I make an effort to smile. It feels brittle on my face.

"Why are you guys yelling?" it's Zia, she's back, clutching a stuffed unicorn to her chest and she looks upset.

"Sorry baby," Haider responds. He shoots a look at Dastan that would've had me running in the opposite direction, "Your brother was just about to apologize."

"No," he folds his arms across his chest, mimicking his father's earlier posture. It's just as impressive on him. "I wasn't." Well, of all the ways I expected today to go, I didn't expect to have to watch Haider murder Dastan.

"Like hell you aren't." Haider moves to step forward and I reach out. Grabbing his forearm much the same way Zahra grabbed Dastan's. He turns his furious, midnight eyes on me.

I shake my head, "Don't," I really want to avoid making a scene right now and Haider looks ready to hurt someone. Most likely Dastan and the last thing we need is Zia seeing any of this. "It's really okay, I promise."

He looks incredulous. Emma looks about ready to kill, and Zahra looks disappointed. I don't meet any of their eyes. I look at Dastan. He's watching me with that sneer in place, "I remember you," I inform him. He raises one thick eyebrow at me. Waiting, I realize, he's waiting to see how I respond. He's playing a game.

"Are you guys fighting about Dastan's new girlfriend?" Zia asks and I suddenly feel like I'm being tossed off the edge of the Earth.