Orphic (#1 in the Hajar series)

thirty-eight

chapter thirty eight - introductions

song of the chapter ; waste - brockhampton

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"WHAT THE FUCK, Samara?" Israfil glared holes into his sister's face as he watched his family members pile into his home. He hadn't planned this. He had invited Samara, and Samara only, to his house so he could introduce her to Farah. He was panicking now- Farah didn't know all of his family was coming! She'd flip out, he knew she would. He exhaled sharply through his teeth and smiled at his aunt who was clutching a ceramic container of Molokhia.

"I didn't mean to!" She whispered back harshly, "I was going to sneak out but Mama caught me and asked where I was going. You know she'd go batshit crazy if I lied to her. She was so offended- she thought you didn't want her over yet, so she brought the family over." She ran a hand over her face. "I swear, I was trying to be discreet."

Israfil groaned loudly.

"Oh, don't act surprised." Samara snapped, "You and I both know how much Arab women love to gossip."

"Funny," Israfil's tone was clipped, "Azrael said the exact same thing."

"What?" Samara asked, obviously confused.

He sighed, "Nevermind." Israfil glanced at his relatives still pouring into the house, and he let out a heaved breath when he saw one of his younger cousins, a little girl at the age of five, run into the house, giggling loudly. "You distract them while I go talk to Farah."

"Aren't you going to say hi first?"

He shook his head, "No, I have to-"

"Marhaba, habib!"

He exhaled sharply again and plastered a smile on his face, turning to his other aunt. "Ahlan wa sahlan, Eamti!" ("Welcome, Auntie.") He hugged her, "Shukraan ealaa altaeam, Eamti. Can you put it on the table?" ("Thank you for the food.") She nodded with an adoring smile, placing a kiss on his left cheek, then right, then left again before she departed, making her way to the kitchen.

When he saw his mother and father come through the doorway, he gave Samara another glare before he headed up the stairs. His feet padded against the carpet as he headed to Farah's room, and he raised his fist to her door to knock three times before he waited for it to open. It unlocked, and he saw her head peek around the corner. She opened it, allowing him to step inside.

"Damn." Was all he could say.

Sharp, winged eyeliner and fluttery lashes accentuated the beauty of her black eyes along with the rest of her makeup, and her body clad in a white, long sleeve, tightly cropped t-shirt, with high-waisted blue jeans with a thick black belt. She felt her face burn under her foundation, and she thanked God for its high coverage. She turned her back to him so he wouldn't see the grin aching her cheeks as she sought out her jewelry. "Is it too much?"