Something scratched under her skin making her shift once more and Kiara gritted her teeth as she continued smiling at the people in front of her. She was flanked by her parents, both who were in sharp traditional Pakistani attire. She could feel her mother stiffening every time anything even remotely hinted at how close Kiara and Emre have gotten in the last nine months.
Her eyes landed on her phone in her lap and she frowned at the blank screen her lips pursed in a pout. She sneaked a glance at her father and was relieved to see him completely relaxed while he spoke to Emre's father. She relaxed a fraction when Emre's father smiled at her, his hazel-green eyes crinkling cheekily like he was holding onto a delicious secret. Emre's sisters Aiyla and Elif, were bustling from somewhere behind she sat. She was sure that they had made a feast considering the smells that were wafting from behind her. She'd wanted to help but they were firm in making Kiara sit down in the living room.
Kiara jumped when she felt her phone vibrating in her lap. She looked at the phone and the brilliant smile carved itself on her lips automatically. She looked up to find Emre's father looking at her with mischief written in his expression.
"Go on, child. Pick up. Hurry, if not he'll worry that we've scared you," he laughed.
Kiara giggled and stood up, "I'll just..." Emre's father waved her off as she gracefully tried to power walk outside. She could hear both Aiyla and Elif tittering behind her and knew she looked absolutely ridiculous in her bronzy silk traditional wear rushing outside. Emre had sent it over to her and insisted that she wore it today.
"I hate you," she said as she huffed heavily, her phone pressed close to her ears. She heard him chuckling on the other end and that itch, that unease she was feeling earlier evaporated.
"That's not what you said last night, Hasretim," he breathed into the phone, and she felt her skin flush.
"Shut up! I hate you so much...," she said smiling fully as she walked into the backyard, her feet hastily crammed into her shoes. The air cool around her and she sighed, "Why couldn't you be here as well?"
"You know why, we had to finish the South America Tour. And we're finally done," he said placatingly, his voice low and comforting shooting warm tingles down her spine. Kiara sat down on a bench with a huff. "Where are you, Hasretim? It's uncharacteristically quiet."
"In the backyard. It's nice and warm outside today, surprisingly."
"You look beautiful in that outfit."
"And you would know how?"
"You're beautiful in everything you wear...And Aiyla and Fadime sent me a photo."
"Those snitches!"
"Were you really going to torture me by not sending me a photo?"
"Yes. I'm all alone here."
"Is this a new way of saying that you miss me?"
"Perhaps."
"I miss you too, Kiara."
"Hmmm...If you missed me, you would be here...It's weird being with your family without you here..."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because...they remind me of you..."
"Is this another way of saying that you can't stop thinking of me?" he chuckled huskily. "I know I can't; I can't stop thinking about you. Doesn't matter where I am â alone, with the guys, on stage; you're always on my mind. Alone, especially when I'm alone in bed late at night...."
"Oh my God, you need to stop talking," Kiara said breathlessly, one hand pressing her phone to her ear, the other touching her burning cheek.
"I liked the other quiet, brooding version of you better..."
"Lies. You love this version better...I can see you; cheeks warm to the touch, eyes hooded and lazy, lips in a soft pout..."
"You're torturing yourself more than you are me, you know that right?"
"And you know that how?"
"The way your breath sounds heavier suddenly..."
"Hasretim, it's always torture when I'm without you..."
"Pretty words from a pretty face..."
"You're not gona cave?" he laughed huskily, and she shivered as the sound travelled down her spine.
"Nope, I'm holding on to this grudge until I see you again," she pouted, her palm still flat against her flushed cheek.
"You should go back in, Hasretim. It's cold out..."
"And you would know that how?"
"You're shivering, prensesim."
Kiara shrieked and sprung up from her seat when she felt something warm drop on her shoulders before she even registered his words. She whirled around to find Emre standing in front of her with a wicked smile on his face and laughter dancing in his eyes. She blinked at him, her phone still clenched tightly in her hand pressed to her chest, her heart pounding.
"That was an interesting move, Hasretim. A new one from you for sure," he said and broke out in a loud laugh, his head thrown back, shoulders shaking, hands bracing his abdomen. He'd worn a kurta in almost the same shade as hers, with his beard trimmed and hair in a messy bun. The sound of his deep laugh resonated through her body and that snapped Kiara out of her daze. She stalked towards him and slapped his shoulder with force. Emre not even flinching continued to laugh harder, flushed, Kiara continued to slap his shoulder over and over again. Her heart pounding and her eyes stinging.
"Hey, hey, hey...Kiara...Hasretim...I'm right here," Emre chuckled lowly, and caught her hand pressing it to his chest. She could feel the rapid and rhythmic beats of his heart under her fingertips and her breath stuttered.
"I missed you...," he groaned lowly into her hair, pulling her into the warmth of his chest. His warmth and the spicy smell of his cologne melted the iron clad hold she kept on her annoyance and a sob tore through. She felt Emre rest his chin on her head, and say her name carefully, "Kiara...?"
There was no way that Kiara could swallow the rest of her sobs so she pressed her face harder into Emre's chest, as her shoulders rocked. Her sobs were muffled by the muscle of her his chest; Emre just held her tighter, peppering soft kisses on her head.
"I'm here, baby. I'm here...," he kept whispering into her hair.
When the sobs finally stopped, Emre leaned away from her to look into Kiara's face. With gentle flicks of his fingers, he tried to wipe away the tears without smudging more of her makeup. "Did you miss me, Hasretim?"
Kiara nodded sullenly and hiccupped, "I haven't...I haven't seen you in seven months." She'd refused to look up at him, knowing that she would be reduced to tears all over again.
The two months after that visit to her apartment had been something out of a movie almost. Emre had been touring Europe and any moment that he could spare he would spend it with Kiara. She had been backstage at a handful of their concerts in various locations. And he'd fly over whenever he'd get a full free day to spend it with her lazing around the apartment basking in the summer sun; one of the perks of the record company owning a private plane he said.
But once the tour was done the band went back to America to prep for their South America tour as well as work on some new music for an upcoming album. They'd spent countless hours on the phone and on FaceTime just as he'd promised that evening at the front door of her apartment. And they talked about everything that they could think of, that they could imagine about. Emre told her all about the craziness of being on tour. From the packed schedules to the crammed living spaces when they toured.
Kiara couldn't help herself but feel the molten strokes of jealousy run through her veins when Emre mentioned in passing how crazy some female fans could be. She'd be on a FaceTime call with him when they'd open some fan mail and they boys had gotten a package with soiled panties. She could feel her face pale at the realisation of what it was when it had dropped out of the package. Russell had laughed, made a couple of crude jokes before promptly throwing it into the trash pile but she'd wanted to run, to switch off the call and hide. And Emre had known. He didn't allow her to clam up and hide. He talked to her every second that he could; reassuring Kiara that the only person he'd wanted was her.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realise that he had steeped away from her, hands slipped into his pocket. He pulled out a few pieces of tissue and handed it to her. Kiara frowned as she slowly took it from Emre's outstretched palm, "Since when do you carry tissues around?"
"I just had it," he said nonchalantly. "Here, fix your makeup; it's a bit of a mess," he said coolly and turned on the camera for her on his phone.
Kiara dabbed at her eyes and sighed. She'd spent almost an hour trying to get the contouring right and the smokey eyed look perfect, but it was smudged. "Well, I think this is the best that I can do-"
Kiara's went slack with shock, the phone slipped out of her fingers and Emre deftly caught it while knelt down on one knee. "What are you doing?" she asked shakily, her voice flat.
"I think you know exactly what it is I am doing, Kiara Moussa," He smiled his dimpled smile at her. Green eyes bright with love and devotion. "Do you know why I call you Hasretim?"
"I...I...I think...it...it...Hasrat means longing or...or maybe wish...in Urdu..." she stuttered stupidly, still shocked to her very core at the implications of his actions.
"That's right. It means 'my longing'; and you have been the only person who I've ever longed for Kiara. Even at 11, being a stupid kid, I longed to have you smile at me the way you did that first time in music class. At 12 I longed to be able to speak to you, but I was afraid. At 13 I longed to be your friend but didn't know how. Once I turned 14, 15, 16, 17, 18; I longed to be more than your friend, so much more. And I almost had that chance, but you were right that time, we were just kids. Kids who had big dreams and chasing those dreams meant that we would be running in opposite directions while trying to stay together. It would have made us hate the love that we had for each other then. We had to be apart so that we could meet again, and I am so beyond thankful to the universe that conspired to bring us back together after five long and lonely years."
"We'd grown so much since we were teenagers. We'd experience sadness, happiness, betrayal, loyalty, death, life. And as much as it has changed us, Kiara, it has also made me realise something after spending every minute of my time with you since we'd reconnected: we were meant to be. We would have found each other again even if we'd miss this chance this time. And I'd wait for you: 5 years, 10 years, it wouldn't have mattered because there was no way anything could in the way because that's how it was designed. For Emre to love Kiara and for Kiara to love Emre. It would have been hell, baby. It had already been years of it, of having you in my dreams but to be alone when I woke up. But I would have still waited for you..." he chuckled shakily, swallowing when he saw the tears that streamed down her cheeks. "That's why I had tissues on me, baby," Emre gently brushed the tears on her cheeks.
"You knew you were going to make me cry?" she croaked, wrapping her trembling fingers on his wrist. Emre hummed and nodded, his tear lined green eyes bored into her dark gaze.
"I hate you...," she trembled, her face nuzzling into his palm when he cupped her cheek.
"And I love you, Kiara Moussa," he said with a watery smile. "I want all my days to start with you wrapped up messily in blankets next to me. I want to argue about which tea is better, Turkish or chai. I want to sit near you and watch as you disgustingly chew on your pencil when you compose your pieces. I want to watch your Bollywood movies with you and annoy you when you start crying. I want to dance with you in the kitchen on lazy Sunday mornings when you're making breakfast and singing old Hindi songs. I want to be able to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you. I want you with me as my crush, as my friend, as my lover, as my muse, as my wife."
"Kiara Moussa, Hasretim; will you marry me?"
Kiara nodded, her tears blurring her eyesight, but she knew that Emre's smile was as brilliant as the one on her lips.
Emre inhaled deeply, his green eyes glossy with tears, "Now, it's Turkish tradition that-" he pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. Pulling out a beautiful antique rose gold ring with a hefty looking diamond and Kiara blinked.
"What's the red ribbon for?" she breathed shakily. The ribbon long and silky was tied to the ring.
"The red ribbon is tied to the rings worn between the engaged pair and someone from the bride's family will cut the ribbon signifying the change in her relationship with her family," he slipped the ring onto Kiara's left hand and held out the ring for himself tied to the other end of the ribbon to Kiara. She slipped it on Emre's right hand and looked at him with a brilliant smile. "When the ribbon is cut today, it won't just change the relation that you have with your family. It will also change what we have. And I can't wait for it Kiara, I can't wait to be more than just that guy that you had a crush on."
"You were always more than that...," she whispered as she threw herself into Emre's arms. She held on tight laughing happily as he wobbled under her sudden weight. Her breath hitched when Emre wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pressing her close to him.
"I love you, Emre Ersoy...," she whispered and laughed at his answering groan, pressing herself closer to him.
She jumped in his arms when she heard someone pointedly clear their throat loudly behind them and pushed against Emre, trying to escape his hold. He sighed heavily before letting go. Rising to his feet, Emre clasped onto Kiara's hand, and held it up showing off the glint of the diamond, "She said yes!"
Kiara flushed in embarrassment at the cheers that erupted from the family that had gathered at the entrance to the backyard. She pressed herself close to Emre's side. She watched as her father walked towards them, scissors in hand. He snipped the ribbon in quick movements, a proud smile on his face. He'd given a quick hug to Emre but paused as he looked at Kiara's smiling face.
He cupped her cheeks and pressed his forehead to his beloved daughter, in whispered words he said a prayer, "May Allah always bless you with all the love you deserve and then so much more. Aamin." He pressed a loving kiss to her forehead and slowly walked away. Kiara spared a glance at her mother and saw the icy smile she had pasted on her face. She had understood what her father had meant in not so many words.
Shaking off thoughts of her parents, Kiara linked her hand with Emre's and looked up at him. He flashed his dimple at her as he pulled her close, "Come on, Hasretim. Let's go inside. I think Elif made something special for you..."
"I thought you'd want to go for another walk...," she smiled up at him.
"Maybe later, prinsessim," he brushed a kiss on her knuckles and walked them inside hand in hand.