From the Binder – Tahj & Laide (3)

Posted on 15/01/2013

“You were always such a pain to me… even when I couldn’t get you out of my head,” Tahj confessed, his eyes searching hers. Then he leaned toward her, pausing when she moved her head back. He frowned lightly. “I know you don’t like me and—”

“That’s not true,” Laide said quickly, her heart racing violently now. Her cheeks warmed under his intense staring but she boldly stared back at him. “I do like you…”

“Laide,” Tahj said after she paused in speech and lowered her gaze to her hands.

“Hmm…”

When he didn’t speak, Laide lifted her eyes slowly and promptly swallowed a gasp to see his face just a few inches from her face. Without a word, she closed her eyes and tilted her head toward him. Tahj hid a smile and leaned closer, inclining his mouth over hers in a soft touch.

The throbbing temple and ankle forgotten, the two shifted closer to each other as Tahj’s right arm eased around Laide’s waist and steadied her against him. Laide swallowed a sigh as he then lifted his head and stared down at her.

Then her eyes widened and with a gasp, Laide nudged at his side, pushing herself away from him. “My God,” she whispered fiercely and dragged her eyes from his.

Tahj blinked, still dazed by the feel of her mouth against his. He frowned at her back now facing him. “Wait, what?” When she didn’t respond promptly, Tahj lifted a hand to her shoulder.

Laide flinched instantly, leaning further away from him. “I want to go home now, Tahj.”

The warm atmosphere swiftly died into a cold war in the black Echo 2000 as Tahj clenched his teeth and wrenched his hand away. “Fine.” He turned the ignition key, his car roaring to life. Awkward silence filled the car as Tahj kept his eyes on the road while Laide glued her gaze to the window, watching the buildings and lights zip by them.

Tahj slowed to a stop a few blocks from the street of Laide’s house. He risked a glance at her profile turned to him and shook his head. What had he been thinking? Parking at the side of the street by the mailbox, he turned off the engine and leaned back in the seat, annoyed that his mouth still tingled.

In the silence of the car, guilt poured on them as they sat next to each other, staring at the lights in Laide’s house. Tahj knew he couldn’t just let her leave the car without telling her what was on his mind, but what if she wouldn’t let him?

Steeling his thoughts, Tahj turned to address him but froze when he saw Laide staring back at him. The words hung on his tongue.

Laide smiled gently, causing his heart to do back-flips. “You have the longest lashes I’ve ever seen on an Indian boy.” And without permission, she lifted her hand to touch his face.

He grabbed her wrist and held it in front of his face, his eyes still on hers. “Addy…” he said in a whisper, his gaze searching hers for the truth he sought. When she playfully cocked a brow, he lifted her wrist and kissed it gently. Peeking up at her, Tahj almost lost his breath at the demure smile on her lips.

When he rounded the car to open the door to her side, Tahj couldn’t keep his eyes off her face. He eased her out of the car and waited, holding out one crutch at a time until she was secure on her own two feet.

Tahj peered down at the wrapped leg peeking from her long, gray cotton skirt and smirked. “I’ll still bug you until you tell me what caused that.”

Laide smiled gently. “We’ll see about that.” She nudged a crutch at his side and laughed when he pretended to wince. “Geek.”

“Dork.” He steadied her with a hand at her waist, gazing down at her.

“Moron…” her gaze challenged him and they both smiled in relief. It seemed the earlier tension had finally eased up since only teasing each other was the only way to make sense of their feelings for each other… for now, at least.

Smile waning at the time left with each other, Tahj lifted a hand to rub her cheek. “You can be such a pain, Dames.”

She chuckled good-naturedly, inclining her cheek into his open palm. “You’re not so great yourself, Karim.” With a saucy wink, she stepped around him and swung her legs between her crutches to make her way to the house.

“You sure you don’t need help?” he called after her.

“Nope, go home!” she called back, making it to the front of the house. Without turning to face him, she leaned against one crutch and waved over her shoulders at him.

Tahj smiled as she finally entered the house. “Goodnight Addy…” he said softly before turning to his car.

…the end for now…

<<Part 2>>

Categories: From The Binder

Tagged: , , , ,

Strangers of the Past: Part XXI

Posted on 14/01/2013

toucanFrancis lifted his head just as his son stepped into the house, dragging his feet on the stone floor. With a perturbed brow, the father leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Neve…” he started to say just as his son walked past him without saying a word.

The man clearly hadn’t noticed his father sitting in the shadows and straightened his shoulders. Turning around, he managed a weary smile. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” He paused to yawn.

“Why don’t you have a seat? We should talk.”

Neville groaned. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m exhausted.” He rubbed his face wearily and yawned again.

“No. It’s urgent.” He gestured to the chair beside him. “Sit. I’ll be quick.”

With a heavy sigh, Neville trudged to the seat and plopped on it. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and lifted a low-lidded stare to his father. “Okay Pops… What is it?”

For a moment, Francis could only stare at his son’s haggard appearance, taking in the dark circles under his half-closed eyes, his slack mouth and the shadows covering his chin and cheeks. “Are you not working too hard these days?”

The corner of Neville’s lips curled upward and he glanced down at his folded hands. “You noticed?”

Francis didn’t respond, waiting with baited breath for his son’s admission, already fearing the worst.

Neville sighed. “Alright… Since you’re the second one who’s asked me this week, I’ll be honest.” He lifted his wary eyes to Francis’ worried face. “Pops, I’m in love… Madly.” His lips widened in a boyish smile. “I’m madly in love with Ameya, and I want to marry her.”

The concerned father’s lips dropped open, his heart falling to his stomach as he stared speechless at his son who beamed openly. No, Neve… You can’t.

“Genevieve was right. I shouldn’t be a coward,” Neve continued, his smile widening as he thought of Ameya doting her son. “I love her and Tomas. I love having them in my life, along with you.”

“Why now?” Francis heard himself ask aloud. It’s been eight years. Why couldn’t you wait a little longer?

Neville shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I was holding out, just in case someone from her past…” He trailed off, shaking his head incredulously. “Who cares about her past? I love her for who she is now, not who she was before I met her.” He laughed softly, shifting his gaze to his father’s face. “I want to marry Ameya. And I will.”

Joy amid fatigue danced in his son’s dark eyes and Francis could only swallow the hardened lump in his throat.

—-

Muffling laughter could be heard from the outer room facing the sea. A gentle breeze lifted the hem of the muslin curtains, stroking the edge of the bed. “That’s tickles!” a male voice exclaimed, followed by a female’s giggle.

“Stop,” came the half-hearted protest amid giggles as the long-fingered, left hand grabbed the slender one assailing him. “I told you I’m ticklish.”

She smiled, lowering her head to kiss the nape of his neck. “You’re too old to be ticklish.” Still, she didn’t bother pulling her hand from his firm hold. Her eyes lovingly trailed along his broad shoulders to his strong neck dusted with blond hairs, pausing at a curiously scarlet mark by his right ear. “Interesting…”

“What is it?” the husky voice of her male companion replied, half asleep.

“You have a very strange-looking birthmark, right here,” she said impishly, lifting her left hand to his ear. Before she could even touch his ear, the man swiftly grabbed hold of her other hand, the sunlight from the window reflecting light on his wedding band.

“Argh, curse you!” she giggled as he wrestled her onto her back with her hands imprisoned above her head. Breathlessly, she stared at his bare chest dusted with tiny freckles and blond hair.

Her heart skipped a beat as the man’s face lowered and she closed her eyes, pursing her lips in anticipation for his kiss that she looked forward to every waking moment.

Ameya snapped her eyes open to the ceiling, her cheeks and body warm from the dream. Dazed, she lifted a hand to her bosom, feeling her racing heartbeat.

She rose abruptly to her feet and quickly shuffled out and round the corner to Tomas’ room. Lifting her heels so as not to wake her sleeping son, Ameya made her way to his bedside and perched on the side. Staring down at his cherubim face, Ameya held back a sigh.

Eyes trailing down his face, she paused at his right ear. Her heart skipped a beat as she recalled the day she’d discovered the curious mark under his right earlobe while giving him a bath. Neville told her it was nothing to worry about, that it was just a birthmark. Ameya swallowed hard, her vision blurring as she stared forlornly at her only son. The man haunting her dreams every night was undoubtedly Tomas’ father, birthmark, hair color, pert nose, freckles… and gray eyes.

She paused at mid sigh and blinked at the boy sleeping with his pursed lips parted. Gray eyes…?

—-

“I feel like you’re hiding something from me,” Tampa accused in a low voice later that evening as she spoke with her strangely-subdued husband on the phone.

Marcus leaned against the banister, staring out onto the main road, his thoughts flicking from his wife to Hannah’s confirmation earlier.

“Marcus,” Tampa’s firm voice pervaded his thoughts and Marcus blinked to attention.

“Hmm?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry…” Marcus mumbled and swallowed a sigh. “I’m sorry, Tampa.”

“Sorry for what?” Tampa sighed in exasperation. “Listen, I have this sick feeling in my stomach and it’s been bothering me. Put me out of my misery and just tell me.”

Marcus frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. But there’s a feeling that I’m missing something, or losing something important… It’s really freaking me out, Mark. Is something wrong?”

His heart twisted in pain at the anguish in his wife’s voice. Guilt paralyzed him to tell her. She would only be angry that he hadn’t consulted with her earlier about finding Hannah almost a month ago. “No…”

“You’re lying again.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this complicated, Tam. Nothing is wrong.”

She swallowed a gasp. “Tam? You don’t call me that except when you want me off your back!”

He swallowed a groan at the higher pitch of her voice. “Calm down. I’m not saying that. I’m just tired.”

“You’re tired? Try taking care of a moody toddler, a pubescent boy and two accident-prone kids!”

Marcus heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Tampa sniffed back tears. “I miss you…”

“I miss you too,” he said hoarsely, wanting desperately to hug her and comfort her. Marcus knew the only way he could ease her heart was to tell the truth, but it wasn’t time. Not yet.

“What is it? There’s no chance you’ve found her?” Tampa asked in mid-sniff.

Marcus stiffened.

“Mark?”

“Hmm…”

Tampa sighed. “Maybe we should just look somewhere else…”

“No.” Marcus winced at his quick reply. “There’s still a lot of ground to cover,” he remedied. “Just give us one more week.”

“One week?”

Marcus turned to face the sliding door that separated the balcony from the living room where Jonathan sat, his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands. “Yeah… Just one more week.” Don’t worry. I’ll bring Hannah back to you. I swear.

<< Part 20 || Part 22>>

Categories: Strangers of the Past

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