Crushed and Created- Tangled series (Overprotective famous brothers)

Never alone

ALISHA

Hands, rough cold hands grabbed my arms, smashing me into the concrete wall. There was no sound, no movement but the pain, the agony as his legs collided with my torso, kicking the air out of me. Words, some words I couldn’t understand, still the kicks, the punches, the words.

I woke up, gasping for air.

“It’s alright, you’re home.” Salman’s arms embraced me, as if a bird protecting her chicks from the ruthless storms. I held on to his shirt, afraid to let go and face my nightmare all over again.

“You ok?” he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, looking me into the eyes. I nodded, taking in a deep breath. It was just a nightmare, it was over. I never had to go through all of it again.

“When did you come in here?” I asked, looking at the time. It was beyond four am, and it was dark all around my room expect from the silver light entering from my window.

“Just now, I came in for your night check. And I came in to get the papers back.” Oh yes. One of the staff or my family would come in my check my oxygen levels at night and I never woke up. Salman insisted on doing it when he was home or I was with him, but otherwise it was someone else. And he had given me a few legal papers to go through, and then left for a promotional event with Beyoncé and Jay-Z. My best guess was that they had decided to check out the party scene in Mumbai, and with Salman as guide they couldn’t have been luckier.

“Yeah, here.” I handed him the papers and he took them, but didn’t leave.

“How do you do it?” he asked, looking at me with something I didn’t understand- was it admiration?

“Do what?”

“Be so strong. How can anyone be so strong?” he asked, his voice a low whisper. If it weren’t for the stillness in the air, I wouldn’t have heard his voice. It wasn’t like him, he was the loudest in the family. This side of him was rare, especially with the craziness going around now he rarely got to be soft, polite.

“I am not strong, trust me on that one.” I replied, amused how he thought I was strong. I wouldn’t be having nightmares if I was, I wouldn’t be scared of apple products still. I wouldn’t be scared to see weapons, I wouldn’t flinch at sudden touch if I was strong. I was anything but strong.

“You are strong. It’s not about being able to forget, it’s about the, the determination to move on. I see it in your eyes, you fight your fear away all the time.”

I looked at him, wondering how he knew me so well. How could he know what was going on in my mind and reply back?

“You think I didn’t see you trying to get yourself to using an iPhone again? Or see you watch discovery channel documentary on weapons just to get used to it again?” he asked, and I stared at him, unable to answer. I had thought nobody had noticed, or at least not given a second though to my tries. But my brother knew what I was trying to achieve all along.

“I fail all the time.” I replied, ashamed. I had seen Aryan already playing counter strike, and here I was, flinching at even the sight of guns. It was like I simply couldn’t get over the facts and move on.

“Pixie, remember one thing,” he played with my hair, soothing me instantly. I paid attention now, because whenever he said something meaningful, it could change your life for good.

“Being strong, being determined is not about winning in the first go. It’s about trying and keep trying no matter what.”

“You think?”

“I know.” He pressed harder and I closed my eyes, snuggling into him. He got his shoes off and pulled a blanket over us. Wrapping his hands around me, he let me stay awake and reflect over it, slowly falling asleep.