I accidentally drop the glass.

Crap.

First I stay over at Ayan’s house, wear his clothes, sleep in their guest bedroom and now I’m breaking their glasses. Great. Good work, Noor.

"Noor?" I hear Ayan rush downstairs.

I stare down at the glass for a moment and suddenly my mind goes blank.

Without thinking, I bend down to try pick it up.

The sharp clear glass cuts my palm when I hold it. I hiss and drop it again.

"Noor?" I feel Ayan’s presence behind me.

"So.." I stand back up. "Slight problem," I turn around and face him.

"What happened?" He looks down at the broken glass. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine. My hand isn’t though," I show him my hand. My palm has a slightly deep cut in it. My fingers flex from a tic and a bite back a cry.

"Okay," Ayan nods. "I’ll clean it up." He pats the black countertop, "Sit."

I sit ontop of the counter and watch him rummage through the cabinets.

"We have eight kids in this house, we get used to accidents like these."

As if on cue, Asna runs past us in the kitchen with Ruaan chasing her.

"I can’t imagine having that many kids in the house.." I reply before looking back at Ayan who’s not opening the medical kit. "I go mad with just Juna."

Ayan chuckles. "You get used to it. They do annoy the hell out of me."

Kamila, Ayan’s oldest niece, walks in.

"The older ones are the worst," he stage whispers.

She narrows her eyes at him. "Shut up."

Me and Ayan both laugh.

Kamila notices the broken glass on the floor before she notices my hand. Her eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

"You’re uncle’s helping me," I wave it off. "I’ll be fine."

"Should I get Jamila Sasi?"

"Kamila," Ayan opens a packet of cleansing wipes. "Relax. I’ll handle it. Don’t pester your sasi. Take 30 out of my wallet and go do something with it."

"Really?" Kamila grins.

Ayan nods.

"You’re my favourite uncle!" she exclaims and walks out of the kitchen giddily.

"It’s in my bedroom on my desk!"

"Okay!" I hear her call back.

I always like watching Ayan interact with kids—especially his siblings’ kids. It’s such an adorable sight.

Ayan’s attention turns back to me. "This might sting a bit, okay?"

I feel a slight dread come on but I nod anyway. "Yeah."

He wipes the wound gently but not enough to stop the pain.

"I’m sorry," he says as he continues. His thumb on left hand, which is holding mine in place, strokes my hand gently—like it’s subconsciously. He pulls away. Ayan bins the wipe and gets out a bandage roll.

"No I’m sorry," I watch him start to unravel it. "I shouldn’t have dropped it and I shouldn’t have tried to pick it up. I wasn’t thinking."

"You don’t think about anything," he teases as he starts to wrap my hand up.

I roll my eyes with a small smile. "Shut up. It’s not my fault I have brain fog."

He nods and looks up at me. "I know. I was just teasing you, Princess."

That damn nickname.

He’s looking at me with that idiotic smirk on his face that he always has.

"Call me that again, I’ll dropkick your ass."

"Yes, ma’am."