In the chaos and the he said, she said, guns poised and loaded, and scornful words hanging in the thick air, Hani had felt brave [though most might think it was just plain stupid. Completely casting aside the fact that at any given moment, and perhaps not even on purpose, shots would be fired. Though petite, she was not small enough to be missed by a bullet. Nor did she have the power to stop them once they decided to take flight. Why, in this planet and under anything she deemed precious to her, had she concluded that stepping into the middle of a brawl was anywhere near a solid idea, as if she had some kind of incantations that would suddenly make everything upright again. Though she wanted nothing more than to be able to fix otherâs problems with a wave of a finger, that wasnât the case, nor would it ever be. If by any chance she had formulated a plan before making a heroic entrance, it was now completely forgotten. Impromptu strategies of attack were never her strong suit, but perhaps in the hype of the moment she could have come up with something, anything to keep this from escalating. She hadnât. Not really. Getting Bel out of the bar. That was the plan. That was the only plan. The hows and wheres were still a bit hazy. Actually, they were nonexistent. Nor could she have imagined how effective [or ineffective] her attempt at seizing fire would be. Eyes wide with bewilderment, and perhaps horror, stared the both of them down as Bel squeezed in his last threat before following her out. Hani knew who the subject of the threat was. Not her. Never. All for his beloved sister, his family, the only thing worth fighting for. He wasnât dangerous... enraged, battered, alcohol induced bravery and all, she still firmly believed so, and judging by the fretful stares given on they way out, she could safely conclude she was the only one.
Youâre a good man, Bel
Words that hadnât been used enough before, not even by her. Someone had to tell him. Though his methods were askewed, the cause was noble. Would her brothers do the same for her? She liked to believe so. She would walk through hell and back, hands full of souvenirs, for those that managed to snatch a piece of her heart, not that such a thing took much effort. One might think she was desperate for love the way she handed it out to everyone, but she wasnât. Quite the opposite in fact. She was desperate to give it. Namely to those whom didnât seem to ever have enough, like Bel. A broken man in need of stability. He wasnât the horrid person spectators made him up to be...not in her eyes.
Not that her view of him mattered
He isnât the type to care about what others think of him, that much she had pinned down. In her case it wasnât any different, but in that moment trivial things such as those didnât matter. Once outside, the harsh air lashing out at them as if it too had a few things to set straight, everything that had just occured felt even heavier. They were out of The Little Lady but were they out of the woods yet?. âYeah, heyâŠâ steamed breath and battered hands tucked away steel and Hani knew they were in the clear, at least for the time being. The moon hung over them, watching in silence as if it didnât dare to speak a single syllable, afraid to reveal the dust hidden beneath the carpet. These encounters were bound to happen one way or another, if not here then elsewhere. More often than not, she wouldnât be there to do what she just did. More often than not, she would be unaware, and Bel would have to fend for himself, as would Senna. Hani knew they were both more than capable of doing so under any circumstances, and that was precisely what perturbed her. But regardless of how much sheâd try, being there at every one of those instances to smooth things over was impossible in every sense of the word. Spending time with the Zaires [and the Bates - and countless others] was forbidden. A word that had been drilled into her mind since leaving the womb.
âI know. I should have known better. Whyâd you come up in there like that, huh?â
Why?
There it was again. The million dollar question that not even the most irrational side of Haniâs mind could answer. Could it had been for Senna and her noble attempts at keeping the peace, or maybe Simon and his desire for calm, quiet nights, maybe even for Gunner and his warrior heart, ready and more than willing to take down anyone that threatened his blood, or had it all just been for him...for Bel. Iâll get back to you when I have an answer for that. Not even she could comprehend the works of her actions. Why she did certain things for certain people was a question that never seemed to disappear. She could have just walked out, unnoticed, and saved herself the trouble of being part of a situation she had no control over and no business being in? No. That was cowardly. Something that Hani certainly was not. Small, fragile at heart, but not a coward. She could have gotten hurt, she realized that just as Bel did, but that was true for anyone that had the misfortune of being in there. âYou could have been killedâŠâ she retorted, her tone soft and careful, as if speaking too harshly would cause him to crumble, or worse, turn on her. For all that it was worth, she would stand there quietly as he let his anger out on her if she was certain it would help him in any way. But he didnât. Instead he apologized, something Hani didnât hear often.
Am I mad at you? ...Does it matter?
âBut Iâm not the one you need to apologize toâ
They both knew who she was referring to. The dark haired beauty that had been left behind in a bar chalk full of hostility and thirst for revenge, cleaning up after her brotherâs mess possibly for the hundredth time. She was the heroine of this story, not Hani. Small hands wrapped around a rough one, battered and bruised from one too many fights. A five second linger and they were gone, back in the warmth of her pant pockets. She knew her time with him was up. Once it was all clear, she would disappear just as swiftly as she appeared and he would forget all about her, returning to his daily schedule of beautiful vixens, dangerous nights crowded with too much alcohol and not enough sex and a vow to protect his sisterâs honor. A place in which he had no room for an inexperienced, insipid girl like her.
Quiet steps made their way back up to the bar. Throwing a quick and apologetic smile in Junâs direction, because she was no doubt going to get a mouthful from her for her act of idiocy, she waved at the mildly less irritated brick of a man behind the counter. The palms of her hands were sweaty and her heart felt as if it were merely moments from ripping through her pale skin. Her mind fixated on the man she had just walked away from. He'll be fine...he doesn't need you. That was the most logical thought that had passed threw her head that day.
âCould I um...could I get a strawberry vodka please?â.