Bound by Blood: He was her sin, her savior… and her blood.

Amira’s POV If I’d known today would be the day my world broke, I would’ve stayed in bed. I got up with a bright smile on my face. Today is the very day I turn 18. I can't believe I'll be an adult too, which means freedom at last. Not to mention leaving for the university in a few months, and after lots of deliberation, my family decided to let me stay in the hostel. Just the thought of that made me jump off from the bed. As the only girl in the family, my parents and brother had been really strict about my upbringing, and that was something that I longed to run away from, and university is the one way out. I'll be able to sleep past 9 pm finally, and no one will tell me to go to sleep. I'll eat whatever I like and, most importantly, wear whatever I like. And there's a lot on the list, to be exact. I have spent more than five years drafting out all that I wanted to do since the day that bro Zayn told me that I could finally have my freedom once I reached 18 and got to the university. I finally stood before the mirror, like looking into my future. “It’s my day,” I whisper to my reflection. “Finally, I get to decide who I want to be.” Suddenly, a breeze of air rushed from the window, and it knocked the picture of Zayn and me on my dresser, and it fell, the glass crashing. "Perfect way to start my birthday," I muttered and moved to pack the glass shards, even cutting myself in the process. *** I hum as I sink into the bath, the bubbles kissing my skin like the world finally remembered I exist. After I had finished up packing the glass shards, I put the picture back on the dresser and walked out of my room to throw out the shards. "Where's your scarf, and why are you even wearing a nightgown walking all around the house?" That's my mother's morning greeting every other day. "Mom," I tried to complain, but she brushed me off. "I and your brother would be stepping out now to get the rest of the stuff for the gathering," she added and rushed to the door. "Happy birthday, dear," she turned to say before rushing out. I finally dipped my hair into the bubbles, allowing the sensation to fill me in. I turned on the shower faucet and allowed the water to wash off any remnant of foam left. The reflection of the mirror caught my body, and I turned away, but not before seeing myself, though. I have changed a lot; now I look like a woman, finally. "The kid who never grows up." Zayn's words echoed in my head for no reason. He always said I reminded him of purity. I wonder what he’d say if he saw me now, hair wet and grown. The house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that made you aware of your own breathing. Even the clock seemed to hold its tick. Just then, I hear a knock on the door, and I smile, thinking Mom must be back. I quickly wrapped my body with a towel that covered only to my thighs and rushed out. "You forgot the keys again, Mom!" I laugh as I open the door. And I froze, seeing the person standing before me. *** Zayn’s POV I shouldn’t have come. Not today. Not like this. I had finished my long-hour shift, and I was driving home to get some rest before going to the family gathering. Finally, today is my favorite cousin's birthday, and she's turning 18. The girl had been anticipating her birthday for months now, and it's finally here. But I got a call from her mother, Aunt Fatimah, and she told me to drop off something for her at the house, as she was still out to get groceries with Halim, Amira's brother. A strange weight pressed against my chest as I parked, the kind that tells you you’re walking into something you shouldn’t. But I ignored it. It was just Amira’s birthday; what could go wrong? I picked up the gift bag with the pendant I had bought her as a gift. Since I'm already here, I might as well hand it over to her. I was expecting at least Uncle Bashir to be home, but then she opened the door, and she too was in a towel and her hair was all wet. I gulped down the remnant of saliva left in my throat and tried to look everywhere but at her. Even she looked surprised to see me, but her smile widened. "Amira," I manage, voice dry. "Your mom asked me to drop this off." I handed her the stuff, trying to get out of there as fast as my legs could carry me. As soon as our hands brushed, I froze. I clenched my fist, telling myself not to even think of going there. How could I even notice such of her? She's technically my sister, for f**k's sake. She turns to leave with the stuff in her hands, andthe towel slips. The air suddenly felt heavier, the kind that made it hard to breathe. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. It was like the world held its breath too. *** Amira's POV Everything happens in a heartbeat, and I wish I could erase it all just as fast. Cold tiles. Wet skin. I can’t move. I was bare and helpless, dipped in my own shame. The last thing I recalled was me turning to leave with the stuff bro Zayn handed me, and my towel slipped. On instinct, I dropped the stuff, not caring if it would shatter or not, and bent to pick up my towel, but as I turned, I saw him standing before me, his eyes lust-shot as if he had been possessed. Before I registered what was going on, he pulled me to him, and I felt the heat too. "Wh... What are you doing?" I tried to ask, but he was far gone, and the next thing I knew, it was all done; my very innocence was taken away from me by Zayn. He sits up, trying to move closer to me. "Zayn, please, just go." My voice cracks as I clutch my towel, stammering. I still can't believe it. My cousin, my hero, the one person I had trusted the most in this world, had done this to me. I can't believe we did this; we crossed a boundary. "Why?" I whisper. And the only answer is his footsteps leaving behind my broken birthday. *** I lay on my bed, still wrapped in my blanket, and my eyes were still streaming with tears. I had pretended to be asleep when my mother came to my room because I couldn't face her. How could I tell her after all that protection and strictness, I lost my virginity right in the middle of her own living room, and that too, with her golden boy? The tap was still dripping in the bathroom, one drop, then another, too steady, too loud. I wanted to scream at it to stop. My fingers trembled when I reached for the blanket; even my breath felt borrowed. I looked over at the photo frame I’d fixed earlier lying face down again, the glass cracked like something inside me. I stared at the ceiling, but the world wouldn’t stop spinning. My heartbeat echoed in my ears, too loud, too fast. "Happy birthday, Amira," I whispered. "Eighteen and ruined." *** Zayn's POV I got up to get close to her, but she flinched, like she saw a ghost, and that stabbed me like a thousand knives. What have I done? Her eyes. The fear in them. I’ll never unsee it. For a second, I saw her as she used to be, the little girl who used to run to me with scraped knees and bright eyes. Now she couldn’t even look at me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. God, Amira, I didn’t mean…" "Just leave," she screamed again, the tears still falling from her eyes, and I was the cause. She looked all weak and exhausted; there's no way I'm leaving her like that. But what am I to do to make her trust me again? I could see that she's still bleeding. I tried to reach out to her again, and she jumped away. The blood was still dripping down her thighs; I had wounded her badly. She didn't deserve this treatment. Not for her first time, at least. But the look in her eyes hurt more, like she was seeing a monster. I gave up, dejected, and got up. I pulled up my trousers and adjusted my shirt before walking out the door. I stopped halfway. "Make sure to take care of yourself," was all I said, and I walked out into the cold evening. *** I drive, but I don’t see the road. All I can see is her face when she said that word, why. Guilt kept eating me alive as my hands trembled on the steering wheel. What have I done? How did I allow that to happen? What had gotten into me? I took a deep breath as I parked in front of the hospital, vowing never, ever to show my face before her again until she forgives me. I am her culprit, and I don't expect her to forgive easily; even I wouldn't. The image of her terrified eyes still kept haunting my mind as I took her innocence. I hit the steering wheel as I screamed into obliviousness. I whispered her name again and again, the sound swallowed by the night. No prayer could undo what I’d broken, not her, not me, not the line between us.