IX: Underneath the Golden Sun

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Then | Adelaide

The worst part about being an orphan was when mother's day or father's day came along. It was the days of those small holidays that really got to me because it felt like the world was giving me a big middle finger for being parentless. I was a child without parents yet I knew who they were, what they looked like, what they smelled like, and what it was they loved most in the world–Eda would say it was me, I'm the one they loved most but that wasn't true. Anyone who knew them wholly, knew they loved each other most in the world.

That's why I loved them so much.

I knew they loved me but I was an extension of their love which is why these small holidays hurt so much. I couldn't hug them and tell them I loved them anymore.

"Hello? Earth to Addie?" I blinked out my thoughts and focused on the boy in front of me. It had been almost a year since I moved to Toronto with Eda and the only reason why I found it a bit bearable was because of Christian and the twins (who weren't really twins but they were crazily telepathic I couldn't believe otherwise).

"I agree," I said absentmindedly. Although I wasn't sure what I was agreeing to.

His hair fell over his face. At the age of 12, Christian was a sight for sore eyes. Or in this case, my heart. He became a shield for me at school.

He had his friends but he never thought to leave my side.

He said it was because I smelled nice.

"And what exactly is it that you're agreeing to?" He raised his brows, awaiting my reply.

I shrugged and continued doodling in the cool spring breeze. I liked to think being outside is where my parents could see me.

"Addieeee, you're not listening to meeee." Christian flung his hair out of his face and switched from a sitting position to lying with his back flat on the grass. "I wish Hasan and Umaima were here, at least they don't ignore me."

"I'm not ignoring you." With a heavy sigh, I closed the book and looked down at him. "Happy?"

"Yes. Thank you very much for showering me with your presence, your majesty." He said in a sophisticated–terrible British accent.

It made me smile. "Very well, peasant. What is it that you want from me?" I lifted my chin in exaggeration to how I believed a queen would act.

"Attention, your majesty. I would like some, thank you." I saw the hint of his smile lingering as an echo over his face. I wondered if it was his smile that brought mine upon my face or if it was his presence.

I didn't know much other than sadness but I knew he was the cause of my happiness.

"You have all my attention." The whispered smiles turned into loud ones. Christian started to laugh. He was brighter than a thousand different stars and somehow even after the worst things happened to him, he still smiled. "I'm going to yours after school, but you have fencing today."

His laugh died down and his face crumpled and turned to a numb-like state.

It was rude of me to bring his mom up but ever since she was diagnosed with cancer, he never talked about her or to her. As someone who lost her mother, I knew he'd regret it one day.

"Will you come home over afterwards? I could call Umaima and Hasan over." The quicker I changed the topic, the better his mood would be. Or at least that was what I thought. His mood did not change, in fact, it worsened. "Christian?"

He stared up at the sky with shut eyes. His breaths were study and his mind was running a thousand miles per minute. Maybe his sunshine was a facade.

"Your birthday is coming up," he suddenly said with opened eyes in my direction. My heart skipped a beat. He may or may not have been the sun, but when he looked at me in the way he was right now, I didn't know if it was his gaze burning me or if it was the intensity of us together.

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