THE PRIDE OF THE PAKI

Two Can Surely Play At This Game

I didn't sleep well last night. How could I when I was sitting up on a stupid chair, with an-INSERT BAD WORD HERE- type of guy in my bed all drunk and off. Mark was kind enough to check up on me a couple times not knowing he disturbed the little sleep I had. But still, it was a random act of kindness and I appreciated it. All the while I was up and checking up on his sorry ass, Luke was sleeping like a baby.

It was about 5 when I dozed off, dreaming about my home in Pakistan, my family and uncles, my cousins. My home. During my sleep, I felt someone pick me up. I dismissed this thought, thinking it is Abram, my favourite cousin, who always puts me to bed after we have had that special movie night of ours. I love him dearly, he is the closest thing I have to a brother. I felt the the soft mattress beneath me and found myself whispering his name in sleep and reached out to him only to be jerked forward. I woke up startled, gasping loudly and saw Luke's face mere inches from mine.

His intense eyes boring straight into mine, holding rage. My arms gripped tightly by him in the most painful way. I didn't even have the time to question why he was doing this, one because the pain was immense and two because the rage, so clear in his eyes, told me to shut up. I kept twisting my arm to get free but his hold only increased causing me to wince. Only when a traitor tear leaked from the corner of my left eye, did he let go, startled.

I rubbed my hands over the redness caused by him on my arms, and wiped my eyes clear from the back of my right hand. I looked at him as he opened his mouth to speak, but instead I raised the very hand and stopped him. I spoke two words, two words that brought the look of shame on Luke Cattivo's face, the two words that were enough for him to avert his eyes from my tear strickened face and focus on a spot on the ground.

"Get out!"

I saw his jaws locked and his fisted hands, his pale closed hands. Impossible, he is mad at me. At me. The one who nursed him all night, slept on a chair instead of my bed because he was unconscious. After all I did, he was mad at me. And what caused this absurd reaction? I didn't do nothing wrong. I helped him, and in return was paid with this assault.

I kept on rubbing my arms, waiting for him to leave but only he didn't. He sat there, looking at the same exact spot, with his hands still fisted. I couldn't ignore his arrogance, and tears burst out of my eyes. This caused him to look at me with regretful eyes. His eyes glistened from tears or constant staring at the ground I don't know. He took my hand that was rubbing on my arm, placed it aside and started doing the same procedure but with his own hands. This sent tingles to my spine and goosebumps appeared on my skin, but he didn't stop. Not until my arm got hot from all the intense rubbing.

He looked at me, none of us daring to break the silence. My brain was in a turmoil, I didn't know what had snapped in him to be the beast and then what made him be this. This was.... so very unlike Luke. Finally I had enough with my thoughts, so I shook my head in an attempt to literally free my head. I got up and went straight into the kitchennete without glancing at the troubled bad boy. I knew he would follow me and my assumption was corrected when I heard light footsteps behind me.

I set the coffee maker and it started doing its magic. The grinding of the coffee machine was the only sound among us. It was like none of us wanted to believe this morning ever happened. It was around the time I took out the two cups and starting pouring coffee that he spoke for the first time.

"Where did you get that from?"

"Excuse me?" I replied, bewildered that he actually spoke. I kept on with my pouring and looked at him through the corner of my left eye. He was fidgeting, that was obvious enough.

"The coffee maker. It's not been that long since you settled in." He elaborated. Where do you think, Alladin of Genie? Of course I got it from a supermarket. But his attempt at starting a conversation was quite feminine so I couldn't hold back the snicker that escaped.