Feraye is walking alongside Yaman, her hand held tightly in his, when she sees him. It's hard to miss Ateş, tall as he is, in the sea of people walking around the park.
Her heart skips a beat at the sight of him, and then she immediately chastises herself for that reaction. She can't help it though, her eyes are drawn to him. Then the crowd of people seperating them disappear, and her heart drops, stomach tightening with a feeling she's too afraid to examine closely.
Because walking beside Ateş, and smiling up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, is a pretty red head.
"Is that Ateş?" Yaman mutters, and she pretends to be surprised. He points in their direction, and she grabs his arm and lowers it. "What? Let's go say hi."
"No," she hisses, shaking her head.
Yaman frowns at her. "Why not?"
"Let's not bother them."
He searches her face, then his face hardens.
Feraye shakes her head, knowing exactly what he will do next. "Yaman, no-"
"Ateş!" He calls out, and Ateş' head snaps in their direction. He waves at them, leans down to say something to the girl. She nods at him, smiling, and they make their way over to them.
Feraye's stomach is in knots, and she hikes up her bag on her shoulder, smoothing down her green dress and straightening her jacket.
When she looks at Yaman, she sees he's already watching her. She smiles at him.
He smiles back, but it's forced.
"Hey, guys," Ateş says, smiling at them both. His hand goes behind the girl's back and she steps forward easily. "This is Güneş," he introduces her, smiling gently down at her. Seeing that smile, the one that he used to reserve only for her, the one she hasn't seen in weeks, directed at someone else, is a blow that she doesn't expect to hurt as much as it actually hurts now.
Güneş smiles, wide and bright.
Feraye hates her.
Yaman extends a hand out to her, and she takes it readily. "Yaman," her boyfriend says, "Ateş' brother."
She exchanges a look with Ateş, and he nods, as if he understood what she was asking without her having to say a word. They're having silent conversations already, Feraye thinks angrily.
Güneş then offers Feraye a hand and she takes it, shakes it with more force than necessary. "Feraye," she says, attempting to smile and failing miserably. The other woman subtly looks at her from head to toe, and Feraye feels a little insecure about it, like she's judging her. It's ridiculous. Güneş is wearing a Christmas sweater for God's sake, she has no room to judge Feraye.
Yaman suggests they go for a coffee, and Güneş agrees. Feraye would rather jump off a cliff, and Ateş must feel the same, if his pursed lips are an indication.
Yaman insists he pay, and and so does Güneş. Ateş watches her with an enamoured smile. "Don't bother," he tells Yaman, "she's stubborn."
Yaman grins, and Güneş feigns offence. "Your kind of girl, then," her boyfriend tells his brother, the words pointed.
Ateş' eyes flicker to hers, then away, and he doesn't say a thing.
They talk about small, insignificant things. Feraye doesn't say much, and neither does Ateş, so Yaman and Güneş carry the conversation.
Finally, after an hour or so, Ateş says he has a work thing and that they need to go, and everyone stands up. "Güneş," Yaman says, taking her hand, "it was lovely to meet you. I guess we'll see each other more in the future?"
