Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Kassam had the unfortunate bad habit of loving bad reality television, especially when he was bored.

When he wanted to unwind from a long day in the studio or calm his nerves before a big set, he would turn on the telly and watch useless drama-filled dating shows. Like clockwork every time, he’d check back with the contestants’ social media weeks after the show ended and they would peddle out the same fast fashion brands and diet regimes for a quick cheque, or turn into club promoters masquerading as disc jockeys.

It was absolutely rank, but in the clubbing and party scene people knew who to hire when they wanted an actual mix. He didn’t get an undergraduate in music theory and communications for no reason.

This year was different, however; his little sister Nadia, as a joke, sent in an application in his name to the producers of Love Island when they were accepting candidates for the coming summer. Perhaps it had something to do with his reputation as the coldhearted DJ that never was photographed with a girlfriend by the paps, or the amount of followers he already had on social media and the type of audience he had that could be drawn into watching reality telly, or maybe it was fate knocking on the door telling him it was time to go back into the dating scene, but he got a callback and a request for a video application.

And now, the producers had set him up as a Bombshell; he was meant to enter the villa on Day 6 but because his last professional gig was 5 days after, they graciously moved him to being a Casa de Amor Bomb Squad member and gave him almost a full week to prepare.

His family group chat blew up on the first night about one of the girls specifically; it was the first time in Love Island history that they had a West Asian female contestant entering as an OG, and his family members were being the West Asians and North Africans they were and gassing her up. He was on a party boat in Barcelona doing a set, so it was late into the night when he got around to seeing the messages. One of his aunties was kind enough to send several pictures of the contestant they were all raving about: a tall and pretty girl with wavy dark brown hair and light brown eyes and medium olive skin, named Imane Karim.

She had some dainty, well-done and plentiful tattoos scattered around her body, the most prominent of which were the Palestinian sunbird holding a camellia flower in its beak on her left ulnar wrist, what looked like an Arabic tattoo on the side of her right ring finger and a large phoenix piece on her right hip and thigh. Her ears were decorated with jewelled piercings that made them look like constellations, only making an appearance when she brushed her hair away or when it was wet.

She looked familiar, but Kassam couldn’t place a finger where he’s seen her before.

He sent a prompt “She looks nice” into the group message, and went to bed.

It was hard resisting the temptation of watching the show, just because it was a habit of his, but his original plan was to go into Casa de Amor blind and get to know the contestants at face value rather than what the telly showed in case things weren’t how they seemed.

Though, when he rung up his specific junior producer and personal relations link she told him it would be a disadvantage to not know any of the girls beforehand, since the Bomb Squad was coming in almost at the halfway mark of the season.

“You want to know who you’re going to click with and who’s worth grafting on, Kassam. Part of Casa Amor is having 72 hours to get yourself back into the main villa, or else you’re getting sent home packing.”

Well, he might as well do some research then, to make it look like he put the effort in.

Today was his evening off, so he could kick back and trade in his contact lenses for his actual glasses and watch some trashy reality telly.

Nadia sent him a wall of text after sending many a "I told you so"s about needing to do his homework, giving him the basic rundown of the happenings in the main villa for the few episodes he’s missed, with all of the sneaky kisses that happened outside of couples and challenges. The Gary and Lottie one was the most surprising, apparently both to the public and the Islanders themselves. She even managed to send him all of the contestants’ Instagrams, knowing that Kassam didn’t care for Twitter, and the Love Island UK IG for him to see the hottest clips from the episodes.

Apparently, Rocco—the man Imane coupled up with on the first day after Hope stole Noah—was a sleazeball and a little too invested in building a spiritual persona. He immediately got stolen by Priya, the first new addition to the villa, the next day; the clip was spreading like wildfire on the socials with the girls chatting in the bathroom after Imane had left for the daybeds.

“Yeah, he’s fit and all that which is why I picked him but... Imane’s been really sweet about everything. If Rocco tries it on with me tonight, I just don’t think I’ll bite, you know? It’s not even about whether I think he’s fit, I do, but I don’t want to get on their bad side.”

One of the girls, the one with the blonde balayage—Marisol?—rolled her eyes. “Why not just try him on for size? The boys are picking the next time anyway, so put your eggs in different baskets. This isn't Imane Island, babes.”

Kassam grimaced at the IG video clip and kept it moving; he started perusing Instagrams.

Rocco had the worst pickup line in his bio and so many pictures of him in different landmarks around Europe and Asia. Gary had 4 pictures on his IG before all of the Love Island promotional posts came in, two of which were pub pictures with him holding a beer and cheesing the camera with all his mates. Noah’s was completely void of posts, but he did have a bio that was just the book emoji. Bobby’s had a couple of pictures of him with his mates sprinkled in between food pictures, Henrik’s previous posts were all climbing or hiking related (good start, if he ended up back in the villa he’d have something to chat about with that guy) and Lucas’ was chock full of pictures with him and his hospital cohort either at parties or restaurants. Ibrahim’s looked like his was professionally managed, to no shock of the imagination considering he was a professional athlete.

The girls had more life to their social medias, it seemed. Lottie’s had dozens of clients who got their makeup done and had pictures of her at SFX makeup conventions or events, a couple adverts here and there. Hope’s had pictures of her on holiday or promotions for new toy drops she made. Marisol’s had a lot of aesthetic studying-related posts and party bus pictures with her friends (and coffee mug collections on her bedside table?). Hannah’s had loads of pictures of her out on a farm and also author-related things in the works, and she was the only one who was back to posting her usual pictures instead of the promotional Love Island clips/pictures. (Dumped, like Nadia recapped.) Priya’s had a lot of girls night out pictures and professional photoshoots for estate profiles.

Imane’s, though, was interesting. She had subtle outfits of the day posts where they would be candid shots in the library, at outdoor cafés and at nightclubs with the girls, and even had some posts of the Dubai Opera House, the Dragon Mart and the Jumeirah Beach Walk. It looked like she knew her way around Dubai, where he’d done lots of sets for the clubbing scene; maybe she had family over there. Sprinkled in throughout were more pictures of her in Morocco, in the Jardin Majorelle; Egypt, at the Abu Simbel Temples and various spots in Libya. There was a specific picture of her in the Dubai Mall fountain wearing a bedazzled blood red kaftan that was mesmerising.

She was an intelligent girl too, with a double degree from Oxford University for graduate-level astrophysics and psychology. Psychology? Her introduction on the show never mentioned that at all, but it sounded familiar too.

He stared at one particular picture on her Instagram, one of her wearing a dark green silk dress shirt holding an off-white mug and smiling at the camera, and felt like he saw it someplace else.

On the sneaking suspicion, Kassam opened up Tinder, tapped into his matched messages and started scrolling through them looking for an icon that matched the picture exactly.

He found it, 26 conversations in; his thumb tapped the conversation with “Nova K”.

You matched with Nova on 27/11/17

[19:27] Kassam: Hey, your wrist tattoo’s nice. What’s the meaning behind it?

[19:35] Nova: it’s the national bird of lebanon and my favourite flower together. i’m lebanese with a quarter korean (i’m still working on getting the magpie inked) ☺️ your arm tattoos are nice too

[19:40] Kassam: Thanks, I’m still thinking about adding more to it but I’m in no rush. Got an Arabic name?

[19:42] Nova: yeah, it’s imane (آمَنَ). my parents decided to add an -e at the end for some reason, but it still means faith

[19:46] Kassam: That’s a pretty name, I don’t know that many Iman(e)s honestly. My name means “Royalty”.

[19:50] Nova: looking for your queen then?

[19:51] Kassam: Haha something like that. I just got out of a pretty heavy relationship so I’m more interested in having some casual chats with people before I go looking around for my queen. I think if I were going straight into another relationship I have some baggage that needs to be sorted out on my own before then.

[19:54] Nova: oh i get that. you’ve got some good chat and you seem really interesting, but i’m more looking for someone that i can see myself with for the longterm. maybe some time in the future our paths might cross again; i don’t want to get into something with someone who doesn’t want anything serious since it’s not in either of our best interests. best wishes on getting the help you need with that baggage

[19:58] Kassam: Yeah, I get what you mean. Thanks for understanding Imane. I don’t want to waste your time, but I hope you find what you’re looking for.

[20:12] Nova: thank you 🖤 you’re really nice, kassam. i hope you find what you’re looking for too

Neither of them unmatched from each other; it’s been almost 2 years. He tapped on her profile to see her biography.

Nova, 25.

psychology student with a concentration in physics and mathematics. i love music and play 3 instruments; hopefully your heart doesn’t become the fourth. (i’m 1.75m without heels. no i will not stop wearing high heels if you ask me to.)

He scrolled through the pictures on their Tinder profile, seeing a few that weren’t on her Instagram. One was her kissing a tan brown cat that looked like a teddy bear, one was a video loop of them reapplying lip oil at a club and the last was them in round glasses at a library drinking iced coffee in a UxO hoodie with minimal makeup.

If he remembered correctly, all three of those made him swipe right. Her profile didn’t seem updated at all from the last time he’d saw it, sans the age.

“Oh, you must be fucking kidding me...” A hissed tenor voice at B3 interrupted his train of thought.

Kassam glanced up at the wall-mounted widescreen telly, where Lucas and Imane were up on the roof terrace staring at something by the pool. The camera cut to Rocco and Marisol, faces extremely close to each other and tilted a certain way, while the other Islanders were oblivious and dancing a good distance away.

Intense background music began playing when the shot cut back to Imane sat there, her kohl-lined eyes slowly and meticulously blinking.

Lucas looked at her and pressed his lips in a line, the corner of his mouth downturned. “Do you want me to chat with him after this party’s over? That’s just not on for him to do, but I don’t want to make a scene in front of the others.” His voice was quieter than before.

The girl stared down at her red satin dress for a moment, thumbing over the hem and quickly wiping at her cheeks. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow about it. Thank you for offering, though.” Her voice was pitched at F5.

Kassam watched as Lucas gave her a reassuring shoulder squeeze and a one-armed hug.

Well, Rocco definitely was sleazy. He rubbed at his ear, frowning slightly, and saw Imane get up and say something like “I think I’ll head to bed early” before walking down back into the house. Lucas stayed up on the roof terrace for a little while after, staring at the two by the pool with his jaw clenched, then headed down to the dance scene on the lawn.

Nadia, like clockwork, texted him. Did you just see that? Rocco literally chose Imane at the last recoupling and now he's doing this behind her back

Another text came in a few seconds later. It’s been less than 2 days!!! Wth

He chewed his lower lip and texted back: Did Rocco say anything about wanting to put all his eggs into Imane's basket? I started watching the episode halfway through

His eyes turned back to the telly, where the shower was turned on and he could see the top of Imane’s head and hear sniffles from the mic. The foggy glass door opened and they came out of the shower wearing a towel, eyes slightly bloodshot; she blew her nose and quickly tossed the tissue into the communal bin before setting to work on redressing in a changing room.

Kassam’s phone dinged again.

Yea he did. What makes it worse is before the recoupling Bobby told him that he'd back down from choosing Imane if Rocco promised to apologise and act right... He also had his first kiss with her today then went on to do that

He rubbed his ear again, slightly more irritated. That guy was absolutely rank.

“Imane?” A new voice, this time pitched at C4, called his attention back up to the screen. It was the other early Bombshell, Henrik. “Shout if you’re not dressed but if you don’t I’m coming in.”

Imane emerged from the changing room and started pouring micellar water onto a cotton pad. “I’m dressed, don’t worry.”

Henrik opened the door, closed the door behind him and sat himself down on the indoor jacuzzi marble ledge. “Lucas told me to look for you. He looked kinda troubled.” His blue eyes narrowed to a squint. “Have you been crying?”

“I got soap in my eye, so yes and no.” She laughed, although a bit forced, but offered the guy a small smile. “Thanks, to both you and Lucas for checking on me. That’s well sweet of you.”

“Anytime, babes.”

There was a lull in conversation, Henrik opting to rest his cheek on his propped-up knee and watch Imane clean up the leftover kohl on her waterline.

“Lucas got a text earlier tonight saying that the Hideaway was open for him to take a girl in for the night since he got a better review on his dates in the afternoon than me. He wanted you to have it.”

Imane paused and folded the cotton pad. “With him or is it just going to be me?”

“The text didn’t specify that. He said he’d rather you get a good night’s rest alone and he’d sleep with me. Didn’t go into detail about what’s happened, but I can kinda figure out the gist. I do have a brain between these ears, after all.” The guy had a slight Swedish intonation masquerading underneath the slight Southwest English accent.

They shared a mutual giggle, and she tossed the cotton pad into the bin. She casually straightened out her grey silk pyjamas.

“Tell him I said thank you.” She turned to him and opened up her arms in a hugging proposal; he took it up, and it really put into perspective how tall they were. Henrik’s bio said that he was 6’3’’, and without high heels Imane easily rested her cheek on his shoulder with a small head tilt.

The blond gave her cheek a friendly kiss and grinned while he let her go. “Off you go then, Sleeping Beauty. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Kassam rubbed at his temples and sighed audibly, feeling the beginnings of a cluster headache forming behind his left eye. It was probably anxiety-related, so he swung himself to sit upright on his bed and practise meditative breathing while rubbing the hamsa amulet around his neck.

It was awful to watch someone get cheated on even when it was just on the telly; seeing such a visceral reaction like crying from Imane made the bottom of his stomach twist like a sandpit, and he had to slowly force out a breath through his lips when it made him think that it’s happened to the girl before. Speaking from experience, Kassam knew what it must have felt like to see it happen right in front of her.

He turned off the telly, hearing the quiet silence ring through the air, and looked at his left arm to centre himself. Since his last breakup two years ago, the only new ink he got were the two fully filled bands around his forearm and some extra shading on the back piece he had mapped out years ago to encompass traditional Algerian tribal patterns and modernism without it clashing with his anatomy. His left hand instinctively rubbed at the constellation inked onto the nape of his neck, then let his fingertips trace over the Arabic writing of his last name behind his right ear, and slid his hand down to his upper right thigh where he had another blacked out band, and he sighed again.

He was calm, finally.

The suitcase that he brought to Barcelona seemed to stare at him, asking to be opened and rustled through. He knew it was holding his nightclub clothes and pretty nice swimwear, some of which were designer pieces he liked but those were few and far between. There were some designer dress shirts, even different pairs of sleep and lounge wear, and a good black blazer for the semi-formal gig coming up in a few days. If anything, he could call his assistant and send her in with his suit if he made it anywhere near the final.

Kassam might have already packed for the villa, to be quite honest. He just needed to call his PR link again to ask if he could ship out his luggage to Mallorca when he was getting on a flight to London. There were a few things he still needed, including the desperately overdue acupuncture appointment and haircut he couldn’t miss. His hair was starting to show its curl pattern at the ends, and if he didn’t know how to maintain the sides of his hair on his own no doubt he would look unbelievably unkempt.

For the time being, he had the unshakeable feeling that he might get recognised when he steps into Casa de Amor. Whether that was a good or bad thing was uncertain.

Heathrow Airport was fairly vacant, as it usually was on a Wednesday evening, and it didn’t take long for him to bypass airport security with pre-check, tucking his passport and identification and privilege card back into his leather rucksack. He stopped by one of the duty-free shops to buy a bottle of his favourite cologne, Le Labo's Thé Noir 29, as he just freshly ran out.

While tapping his credit card on the screen to pay, his phone lit up with a phone call from one of the producers.

“Hello?” Kassam said a brief thanks at the worker behind the counter, taking the business card that she had written her phone number on, and grabbed the cologne bag from the glass tabletop before heading toward his designated terminal. He ripped and tossed the business card into the rubbish bin next to the restrooms.

“Hey there! Currently on track with boarding your flight?” Danny's voice was crisp and clear, with some buzzing in the background from other staff on sight.

“Yessir,” he said while he pulled out his passport that had his boarding pass stuck in between the pages. “I should be projected to land slightly earlier than expected.” He looked at his watch. "My flight's departing fifteen minutes early."

“Great! Safe travels to you; we’ll have a car waiting at the airport to take you to the casting villa. The other five are already here, so don’t be shy to introduce yourselves to each other and watch the show together tonight.”

“Sure thing. I’ll ring you again when I’m on the ground.” The Algerian made it to Terminal 9 as Danny hung up, where a few people were already sitting, and sat down facing the large LED panel that showed departure times. He took out his phone, pulled out the black face mask from his trouser pocket and opened up Instagram.

He had the habit of wearing a mask at airports to keep the number of stares down, and it would be horrendous if the public found out he was going to Mallorca before he even got on the flight. 

“Terminal 9 to Palma de Mallorca will begin boarding in 5 minutes. Please begin to queue in front of the boarding strips and have your passes ready. Economy and business class fliers, please queue in front of Door 1. First-class fliers, please queue in front of Door 2. Thank you for flying with us here at Iberia Airlines.”

Blue eyes watched as other passengers started to queue, lining up in small groups. He kept scrolling through his phone, tapping a beat with his foot, and replied to some posts on his secondary profile's timeline where he followed all of his mates and posted more personal things than just music drops and philanthropic posts.

2.6 million people still followed him on that one.

One of his university flatmates, David, had just recently gotten a cat. He quickly typed out "You want me to catsit, hotshot? My rates still stand, £20 an hour unless she fucks up my furniture." and sent it, humming under his breath as he got up and wheeled his carry-on fitted with a few more comfortable clothes to Door 2.

The passenger assistant, dressed in navy blue, walked over to him. “Going on holiday, sir?”

“Yessir,” Kassam said evenly, scanning his mobile boarding pass. “It’s very easy to get burnt out with my line of work, so a holiday here and there never hurt."

"Work in healthcare?" The assistant grinned.

He shook his head, pocketing his phone. "Music. It's more taxing than people think."

Brown eyes drifted over to the small privilege pin on his rucksack, immediately straightening. "Well, I wish you a good flight and a happy holiday." He gave a short salute. "Thank you for your services; your seat is to your left and two down from the front."

"Cheers." He returned the gesture and walked through the boarding strip, luggage in tow, and found his seat very easily. The stewardess graciously handled his carry-on and put it in the luggage closet toward the back while he got himself situated in his compartment.

A steward came to offer him a drink of his choice, smiling when he pulled off his mask to reveal his face. "Kassam, it's good to see you again. Weren't you just flying two weeks ago to Barcelona with us?"

"I'm a busy guy, Nicky." The Algerian shrugged, the end of his mouth curling upward. He leaned back into his seat. "I'll take a cup of water."

"Sure thing, I'll get it to you as soon as possible. Text me if you need anything else." The broad-shouldered Italian left him be to settle into his seat.

He pulled out his laptop from his rucksack and connected to the WiFi, opening up his calendar, virtual agenda and email. When Nicky returned with his request, he gave the other a brief smile before slotting his earphones in and running through some instrumentals to get into the groove of work.

He might be about to go on holiday, but his manager still had deadlines. For the two hour flight, he had shit to finish.

Chapter Text

Well, he did get recognised the second he stepped into the casting villa, even before the girls came in—and this time it definitely was bad.

“Aye, aren’t you Kassam?” A blue-haired guy, a bit ways shorter than himself, almost stared at him with an open mouth. “DJ Salem? I literally was at one of your gigs in Barca last week! It’s awesome to meet you in person.”

It was, in fact, not awesome for him, but he couldn't fault the guy's puppy-like enthusiasm. He just turned 21, after all.

The other lads were nice enough; it was a mash of different career paths, one of the guys being a tech entrepreneur and another one being a fisherman. One was a model, another was a dog groomer. Felix, as luck would have it, was a club promoter. It was a strange combination if he took a step back and realised he probably would have never met them in his usual hangouts.

The other brown man in the room was in the kitchen, looking for some munches, but looked up at him and grinned. “Alright there? It’s nice seeing more brown Asians around these parts. I’m Arjun Sehgal, by the way.”

“Hey, Kassam Hassein.” He reciprocated the smile and set his leather backpack on the kitchen counter to lean on. “Was I super late compared to the other guys?”

Arjun scoffed and made due with dicing some bell peppers. “You’re well on time; before you came the other lads were going on about watching the last recoupling episode together like old mates before we take on tomorrow. I must say though, it was a surprise to see a Prada luggage here by itself without an owner. All the guys were taking turns on guessing whose it was.” He cocked an eyebrow. “It makes sense now, honestly.”

He rolled his eyes lightheartedly with a wry smirk and opened up the cupboards to find the pre-workout powder he requested. “It’s all in a day’s work, nothing really flashy about it if you don’t look at the small logo up at the top.”

“You’re well humble, I rate that. Felix was raving about how you have close to 8 million on Instagram already so I honestly didn’t expect you to be so down to earth, no offence.”

“None taken.” Kassam took down the jug of powder and put it onto the counter, popped the top off of it easily and took the shaker bottle from his bag. “Though I don’t think it’s really anyone’s place to talk about my notoriety if it’s not coming from my own mouth.” He broke the safety seal with his ring and fished for the powder scooper. “I’m just here to have a good time, honestly. A holiday away from work is needed for everyone.”

Arjun chuckled and washed his hands in the sink before giving him an affectionate clap on the back; he didn’t mind it. Brown culture really pervaded the distance even between countries. “If you as an international DJ say it like that, then it must be true, brother.” He eyed the shaker bottle. “Are you working out at this hour? Bloody hell.”

The shorter of the two continued with knocking the dragonfruit flavoured powder into his bottle and screwed the jar lid back on right after. “My joints feel stiff, and it doesn’t hurt getting extra muscle definition for tomorrow.” He filled the bottle up with the filtered water jug in the fridge. “Can you spot me?”

”How much do you benchpress?”

“250 on the regular? I go up to 300 on intense days.” Kassam capped the bottle and lightly shook it using his wrist.

“You have such faith in me already.” The bearded man shook his head. “My best is 220 so I can’t do much… Graham might be of more help.” He glanced at the other’s arms. “That’s impressive. Your arms really look good, brother.”

On cue, the lumbering bearded ginger poked his head from around the corner. “Are you underestimating a fisherman’s hearing range, lads? I heard my name.”

Kassam suppressed a smile by sipping on his preworkout. “Can you spot a 250 benchpress tonight, sailor?”

“Sure can, Captain. My current best’s 320 but it's seen better days.” Graham grinned and slipped fully into sight, dressed casually in grey joggers. “DJ’s request for a gym session?”

“Something like that.” He checked his watch, seeing that it was barely past 18:00. “Give me an hour for this to kick in and I’ll be game for 7.” His eyes glanced over to Arjun. “Want to join? I can spot you.”

Arjun blinked rapidly, in shock of the invitation, but slowly and surely his lips turned upward. “Sounds hot. I bet your workout playlist is fantastic.”

The other three lads definitely were not expecting to hear a techno remix of “Candy Shop” blasting first thing from the garden home gym at night, but it was funny for Kassam to see in his peripheral Felix gawking at him from one of the upstairs balconies while he was doing pull-ups.

The workout made him feel less stiff and broke him into a light sweat, which was always welcomed to make him more at peace; it was nice to form an amicable relationship with at least one Casa de Amor guy to make his stay feel more at home, especially with two men who actively lifted and did endurance and high intensity workouts. He gave one-armed shoulder bumps with Graham and Arjun after their one hour gym session, and he promptly went upstairs to find his temporary room, shower and change into loungewear for the 9pm live-streaming party of Love Island.

He wasn’t able to watch every single episode that aired, since his job interfered with the hours, but he did catch most of the more important ones. Rocco and Lucas were dumped from the villa on the same night, leaving Imane and Henrik as the lone vulnerable singles. At the next recoupling, Henrik chose to couple with her because he “made a promise to someone to treat this girl right.” (For sure everyone knew it was Lucas.) Half of the couples remained exactly the same, and Gary and Bobby switched partners.

Since Rocco’s removal from the villa, Imane began slowly blossoming even though their new coupling was very much platonic. She looked much happier when in the beach hut giving testimonials, and Kassam started noticing the dimple on her right cheek appear in her recent smiles and laughs that weren’t there when Rocco was coupled with them.

The red satin dress made its last appearance the night Rocco and Lucas got dumped. From then on it seemed she wore a variation of off-shoulder silk tops/slitted trousers; her makeup stayed the same, kohl and all, but sometimes Lottie offered to give her small diamonds either in the inner corner or underneath the eye.

She kept herself out of the petty cat fights that erupted from the other girls and didn’t meddle when the boys asked for her opinion; when Noah tried to make a move on them, even though her couple was publicly known to be a best friend duo, she shut his advances down and kept it moving. It had nothing to do with Hope too, considering the latter girl always was upset by how unbothered Imane kept herself even when she expected her partner to be fought after.

It was admirable and honestly very attractive.

Kassam turned off the cold water and towelled his hair until droplets stopped forming before moving onto drying the rest of his body. He opened the shower door, squinted to see how far away his target was and tossed the towel into the laundry hamper a ways out, and took a fresh towel to wrap around his waist.

His contact lenses were soaking in solution while he was in the shower, and he carefully popped them back into each eye. The reflection stared back at him, blue eyes surrounded by black lashes and strong clean brows that arched at almost the same degree on both sides. He blinked and thumbed over the small crescent moon-shaped scar in his right brow that made him look like he had a permanent slit, much to his dismay and the delight of Nadia when she first mentioned it.

He got to work on moisturising, working in some extra for all the potentially ashy parts of his body, and spritzed cologne behind his ears and on his wrists. When he felt his skin was sufficiently dried down, he slipped into his favourite floral embroidered black hoodie and a pair of simple black joggers.

The 5 other guys were already downstairs settling down on the couches, chatting over the background noise of the telly. Elijah, the quiet one who wore glasses and was the model, was the first to notice Kassam come down the stairs and signalled for him to sit in the space between him and Arjun.

“Nice drip, mate. Gucci?”

Kassam nodded and shrugged, making himself comfortable on the sofa. “I don’t like their logo pieces but sometimes you have to give the designers credit where it’s due.”

The side conversations lulled when the show’s signature opening music played, and the dramatic scenes from the previous episode started playing through. Hope and Noah’s failed cake, Imane turning down a date with Jakub the newest male Bombshell, Priya and Lottie sorting out their mess, Marisol speaking to Henrik about how he should look for other options in the villa during the next recoupling (”Imane is only coupled up with you to survive. Just because she doesn’t see any other matches with the guys doesn’t mean you share those same feelings about the other girls.”)...

And the episode opened with Henrik saying straight-faced: “Being coupled up with them has taught me a lot about myself. I don’t care if we’re just a friends couple in the villa, I genuinely believe that if I tried to spread my eggs in different baskets it still wouldn’t work out for me right now. Really, at the moment, there aren’t any girls that catch my eye or have that it factor and that’s fine. You’re not gonna be able to convince me otherwise, sorry.”

Good head on his shoulders, that bloke.

Arjun sucked in air through his teeth. “Oooh, that must have hurt to hear.”

Kassam glanced around the room, seeing all of the other guys entranced with the telly. It made him think back to university living, getting invited to watch football games with everyone living on his floor.

Funny how life comes full circle sometimes.

Throughout the hour-long episode, he distantly heard guffaws and gasps from the others, sometimes a “Oh she didn’t...” and he only tuned back in when Sophie Monk, the in-person host, arrived at the firepit during the night for the final recoupling before Casa de Amor.

Jakub chose Hope, in a shocking turn of events; Noah, in turn, coupled with Priya but the editors left in his short glance over to Imane. Henrik was next.

“I think my decision tonight won’t be that jarring. As many of the other Islanders know, I came into the villa searching for ‘the one’ but in that process I lost someone I was slowly considering a friend.” His eyes looked up from the firepit. “It made me realise that maybe what was more important to me was finding someone worth putting their feelings before mine and learning how to be more selfless and learn self control. This girl, in the short time I’ve been here, has made me into a better friend and a better man.

“So, Imane, would you like to be my partner once again?”

The aforementioned girl, dressed in the same green silk shirt from her Tinder profile and black high-waisted trousers, smiled and walked over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re sweet.”

Kassam chewed his lip and kept watching. Ibrahim stole Lottie from Gary, Gary chose to couple with Chelsea, and Marisol and Bobby were the second couple to stay together.

The only two couples that stayed the same were the platonic ones.

Arjun cleared his throat. “Well boys, tomorrow’s going to be interesting. The power couples are no more.”

“Looks it indeed.” Graham tapped his ring finger against the empty beer in hand. “Who’s eyeing who, lads? Might as well make a game plan if we’re playing the field like one.”

“I doubt it’ll come to something romantic but Hope and Priya seem fun to chat with.” Carl cracked his little finger and stretched. “Lottie’s a bit much for me, though she’s nice.”

Felix grinned. “Then it’s great that I like Lottie. I rate a bit much.”

Elijah retracted his arm from behind Kassam. “Chelsea looks a bit of me, but I think if I get to know Imane more she definitely could be my flavour.”

“Priya and I have a lot in common, so that’s a good start.” Arjun turned to look at the DJ. “Who tickles your fancy, mate?”

All eyes fell on him, and he rubbed his ear.

“I’ll keep that to myself.”

Half of the guys collectively groaned, but Arjun gave him a clap on the back.

Graham smiled and muttered, “Fair enough, Captain. Well played... In that case, I’ll keep mine secret too.” His smile turned into a grin. “Let’s call it a night here, lads, and get some rest before the big day tomorrow. We’ve got the public and six girls to impress.”

Kassam woke up early enough to watch the sunrise and get a quick workout in. By the time he showered, drew kohl powder along his eyeline, changed into his mostly black swim trunks and a fitted plain cashmere hoodie and headed downstairs again, most of the others were already moving around in the kitchen. Carl was the only one missing.

“Morning, sailor.” Graham was helping himself to what looked like a protein shake. “Care for breakfast?”

“Why not?” He opened up the fridge to look at what there was and began pulling out ingredients to make a Greek yoghourt açai bowl.

Felix whistled under his breath. “Kaz, you really are pulling out all the stops on Day 1? Aren’t those swim trunks, like, £400?”

He ignored the blue-haired guy’s comment for a moment, frowning, and poured frozen açai berries and blueberries into the blender with half a cold banana. “It’s Kassam. I wear these all the time when doing sets on party boats.”

Elijah chortled. “Admiring the price tag on things is a really weird way to compliment people, Felix. Kassam’s got a good eye for fashion, so give it a rest.”

The furrow in his brow relaxed, and Kassam turned on the blender to drown out the breakfast chatter. He took off the fill cap, spooned in a third of the yoghourt tub and knocked in a few flake ice cubes from the freezer and grabbed a bowl; when he finished garnishing his breakfast with blueberries and some oats and turned around to eat, Carl was downstairs.

Arjun sauntered over the sink with his used bowl and mug to handwash them. While the tap was running and the Algerian munching away next to him, he leaned his head to the side so he could whisper: “Is the kajal part of your usual look, or are you trying to impress a certain someone?”

Kassam swallowed his food before answering, scooping up the next bite on his spoon. “I don’t have it in me to poke out my eye in order to impress someone if it’s not part of my usual routine.”

The Punjabi chuckled and shrugged. “Fair enough.” He reached over and nabbed the dirty blender from the counter. “Before you got down here, I was just asking the other lads about their preferences so it’s only fair of me to ask you too ahead of getting mic’ed up. Do you bat for both teams, if you get the euphemism?”

“Mm.” He chewed on his blueberries thoughtfully. “Do you?”

“Sure do.”

Kassam let the silence hang in the air for a bit while he continued eating his breakfast; when he finished his last bite, he turned to the side so only Arjun could hear him at the volume he wanted. “I pitch.”

“Nice.” Arjun smirked and took the bowl and spoon from him to wash. “Funny how all the guys I rate here play for both teams.”

There was a familiar ringtone from the kitchen counter. Elijah grabbed the Android off the table and said, “Well lads, we all know what this means... Guys, I got a text!”

The tap shut off, and the model continued. “’Bomb Squad, there are two Jeeps waiting for you outside to take you to Casa de Amor, the House of Love. You will be arriving before the girls, so head inside the villa upon arrival where Sophie Monk will be waiting. The Jeeps are set to leave in 10 minutes. Remember to leave your personal cell phones in the labelled lockers by the door and take the phones already in your assigned locker. We’ll bring your other belongings later on today. #WelcomeToLoveIsland #LadsOnTour #TheStormIsComing.’”

Graham cheered. “Let’s go, boys!”

Kassam climbed into the Jeep Elijah and Carl clamoured in before him and sat across from them, knowing the car would be the quieter of the two, and was relieved when his belief turned into reality. Carl was nervously fidgeting with the phone in his hand.

He nudged the tech businessman with his knee, which made the guy jump. “Put your hand on your stomach and breathe in with your nose so your belly expands. Then exhale through your mouth. Helps calm nerves.”

“Thanks.” Carl shot him a grateful smile. “It just sort of hit me, the jitters.”

“Happens all the time for me,” Elijah comforted. “Sometimes it’s good to be nervous; it means you care a lot about what’s about to come.”

Kassam nodded in agreement. “It doesn’t get any better when you’re already in the public eye, trust me.”

“That makes me feel much better.” The tech guy let out a sigh of relief. “Being in a car with the two most famous newcomers was doing my head in...”

Elijah laughed, pearly white teeth catching the sunlight streaming in from the window. “Come on, we’re the oldest guys sharing a Jeep, not the car filled with two famous guys and a spare. You’ll be fine.”

Carl’s eyes widened as he looked back over to Kassam. “You’re older than Graham?”

“I just turned 26.” The Algerian blinked. “Is that surprising?”

“A little, yeah.” The other blue-eyed passenger scratched the side of his head. “I thought you were 22 at the oldest.”

Kassam snorted at the comment. “I’ve been doing DJ work even before I was 22, but I understand what you mean. The youthful genes run in the family.”

The Jeep came to a rolling halt, and the boys glanced through the window at the new villa’s gated entrance. Whoops and yells of joy outside signalled that the other three were out, and within a few seconds Arjun opened their car door.

“Legs not working, lads? Casa Amor awaits!”

They dismounted, Kassam taking the rear, and headed almost perfectly single-file into the mansion. Sophie was in the lounge getting mic’ed, but smiled and waved at them passing through to the sitting room.

Graham spotted the bottles of sunscreen on the table next to the 6 mic packs. “Time for a good tan, I reckon.” He tossed each guy one bottle; Carl and Felix fumbled to catch theirs, but the others got it in one go.

Kassam pulled off his hoodie and started meticulously applying his SPF, feeling someone stare at him when he reached his backside. His arms were long enough to get the hard-to-reach places, and soon enough he was the first one finished.

He sifted through the labelled mic packs until he found the one with “K.H.” stitched into the fabric and easily fitted it around his waist. His left middle fingernail gently flicked the radio mic around his neck to let the sound guy in the lounge know there was new activity it was picking up on. For good measure, he did a vocal mic check.

Quickly enough, he saw a thumbs up and settled on the couch to get comfortable.

Felix unfortunately noticed. “How the hell did you sort yourself out that fast?”

He shrugged and was about to reply with something smart when Sophie appeared in the lounge.

“Everyone feeling ready?” Her Australian accent stood extremely pronounced in person, and she beamed at all of them. “You all look like the charming type, that’s for sure.”

There was a smattering of greetings, and Sophie got promptly whisked away for makeup touch-ups.

Graham sauntered over to Kassam for assistance with the mic pack. “I spot you at the gym and you sort out my mic?”

“Doesn’t sound the worst of trades.” The shorter of the two efficiently got the fisherman strapped in and flicked his mic. Another thumbs up from the sound guy.

Someone’s phone dinged, and Elijah fished in his pocket for a moment. The room quieted.

“’Casa Amor boys, the girls have arrived and are currently assembling in front of the rose wall next to the pool. Have your phones on standby; you will know your order of appearance via text message. #WeatherForecast #SunnyWith100%ChanceOfHotties.’”

Sophie reappeared and exited through the accordion glass doors that led into the back. They immediately slid shut behind her.

Graham cleared his throat. “Alright, boys, I reckon we have a huddle chant before we start getting called. One hand in the middle and on three, one of us says...”

“’Ramp it up, knock it out, Casa Amor lads always stay on top’?” Kassam jested, one brow raised in amusement.

Arjun grinned. “That’s not half bad actually. After that, we all say ‘Aye’?” He was the first guy to put his hand in the middle of the semi-circle they naturally formed. Kassam was the second, followed shortly by Graham.

One by one, all six had their hands in the middle. The DJ steadied his focus into the middle of his torso, where his diaphragm was, and projected his voice like he was performing a set.

“One, two, three. Ramp it up, knock it out, Casa Amor lads always stay on top!”

“AYE!” The six hands all went downward in one fell swoop.

“Kassam, you sure can sound loud if you want, wowza.” Carl’s expression was full of surprise; in response, he sent over a smirk and a casual wink.

Graham’s phone dinged, and he read the message before glancing up at the group. “Well, looks like I’m off first. See you on the outside, sailors!”

He jogged to the doors and waited for his phone to ding again before he opened them and walked out.

Kassam settled back down on the sofa, the rest of the guys following suit, and exhaled. Arjun plopped down next to him, slinging the other’s hoodie over his knee.

“You smell divine, by the way.”

The Algerian nodded in thanks. “It’s my cologne, I bet. Definitely not worth the price, but I have it.”

“Whatever it is, it works.”

Elijah’s phone went off next, and he walked over to Arjun for a hug. They pecked each other on the lips and he was sent off to the back.

Kassam rubbed the hamsa charm around his neck and thumbed over the eye as he zoned into the small wine shelf across from them, practising diaphragmatic breathing.

There was another ding, distant enough for him to realise it wasn’t his, but the door shutting noise jolted him back to the present.

He looked at his boat shoes, noticing the small scuff along the side of the tan material, and reached down to smooth it out.

His phone dinged, and he read the message.

Kassam, please head to the doors. When you get another ding, you may walk out and follow the stone path to the left. The girls are eager to meet you.

Arjun clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck, mate.”

He got up from his seat and walked to the accordion doors, letting the phone slide into his back pocket. It dinged again, and he pulled the door open and strode back out into the sunlight.

The grey stones embedded into the grass followed along the shorter length of the house; when he got close enough, the edge of the pool came into sight. He could see Graham, Elijah and Felix standing in a line facing to the left on the smooth paved deck. Sophie was standing at a 30° angle, Vanna White style.

Kassam would not look toward the girls until he got to the beginning of the pool. He would not look toward the girls until he got to the beginning of the pool. He would not...

The pool came fully within vision, crystal clear water sparkling from the rays of sun, and he turned his head when his feet evenly met the deck.

From his left to right, the girls were queued in order of Marisol, Priya, Hope, Lottie, Chelsea—

And finally, Imane.

He took his place next to Felix and turned to face the rose wall, left hand slightly tucked into his trunk pocket.

Imane’s gaze met his, and there was something about her eyes that looked different from the telly.

“Meet Kassam Hassein, an international DJ from Newcastle.”

He smiled. “Hi.” And that was it.

His eye contact broke away so he could survey the rest of the girls’ reactions. Marisol wasn’t looking in his direction, Priya had a brow raised almost in indignation, Hope was smiling. Lottie was looking him up and down, playing with her long fingernails. Chelsea enthusiastically waved at him.

Imane smiled, tapping her chin with their right thumb.

“Hi,” she said back.

Kassam did his best to keep a neutral face as he glanced down to their outfit. Black one piece with champagne gold buckles and straps flush to her olive skin that complimented her figure. She was wearing chunky heels the exact same colour as the buckles, and the thin straps criss crossed up her calf like vines, stopping about a hand's length away from her knees.

When she turned her head to listen to Chelsea's whispering, he caught a glimpse of her earrings that glittered in the sun.

Imane was fucking stunning in person.

His gaze returned upward; she was still looking at him, eyes twinkling with mild amusement. Their lips were slightly upturned.

He maintained eye contact even when he felt Arjun’s presence return on his left (it was too tall to be Carl) and the Punjabi’s voice say, “Whoa, I feel spoiled for choice. You girls are fire.”

Imane took one second to look over at the newcomer before their eyes met again.

Yeah, she definitely remembered him, or at least thought something of him.

Sophie Monk’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Ladies, this is your Casa Amor lineup. Now, it works a little differently than in the main villa; in a moment, I will go down the line of guys and allow you the time to step forward if you’re interested in getting to know him more. You have the option to not step forward for any of them and will not be penalised, and you have the option to step forward for more than one. You won’t couple up now, but you will have the decision come evening with who you would like to share a bed; the guys have the ability to reject your invitation. From this point forward, you have exactly 72 hours together before you girls are faced with the tough decision of whether you would like to stick with your main villa partner or recouple with one of these lovely bachelors.”

The girls nodded. Sophie gestured with her left hand, starting at Graham.

“If you feel interested in Graham, please step forward.”

Marisol stepped forward, a blush and smile on her face.

“We’re already out on a good foot.” Sophie gestured at Elijah. “Now, if Elijah tickles your fancy please step forward.”

Chelsea hopped up one step, and Marisol stepped back into line. After a moment, Hope took a small step forward and smiled.

“If you like the look of Felix, please take one step forward.”

Priya stepped up, and Hope stepped back. Chelsea remained where she was.

“If you think Kassam’s a bit of you, please step forward.”

Hope and Lottie stepped forward almost in unison, and Priya stepped back. Chelsea still remained where she was.

Imane did as well, though her eyes still were looking into his. He raised a brow, and she smiled with their tongue in cheek. Was she flirting with him?

“If you like Arjun, please take a step forward.”

Priya stepped forward again, and Lottie, Hope and Chelsea all stepped back.

“Finally, if you like Carl, take a step forward.”

Priya stepped back while Hope and Chelsea stepped forward.

Sophie laughed and dusted the air with her hand. “Imane, you still are as tough a crowd to please as ever.”

“I like to get to know a person before I form an opinion.” The latter shrugged and suppressed a smile. “Sometimes looks are deceiving.”

“Wise, wise words.” The host looked over to the boys. “How about this then? Bombshells, hearing that from Imane, please step forward if you still are interested in them.”

Elijah stepped forward, as well as Arjun.

Kassam stayed put, although his right foot itched to move.

Imane’s eyes glinted with something, and a dimpled smile formed against her lips. He smirked.

Two could play that game.

Arjun elbowed him in the tricep and leaned over. “You’ve been undressing each other with your eyes for the past 10 minutes, the fuck you mean you’re not fussed?”

Kassam tilted his head just slightly to mutter, “I like to bide my time.”

Sophie chuckled. “Well then, the next time you will see me will be at the main villa for the Stick or Switch decision. Welcome to Casa Amor!”

The twelve of them gave her a round of applause as she exited around to the garden gate, and slowly the boys began making their way over to the girls.

“Alright, ladies?” Graham smiled, pearly whites all out on display. “Come have a chat with us.”

Elijah already had headed over to Imane and, like a gentleman, offered his hand to her to walk her toward the beach chairs. They smiled and took it, though by the looks it was more out of courtesy than necessity. Kassam followed behind Carl, and one by one the girls paired up to sit on the lounging chairs.

Lottie sat down next to Imane.

Chelsea giggled and looked along all the boys as a very obvious move to check them out, her arm around Priya’s shoulders. “You’re all so... nice to look at. Can we go down the line and know which girls each boy have been eyeing?”

The model was first to speak. “I really like you, to be honest. Your vibe’s quite exceptional.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s too soon to tell, but I do like girls who look like they can eat me for breakfast, so Imane’s second on the table.”

“I’m not that scary to be around, am I?” Imane laughed, seemingly a little saddened, and looked away. Lottie rubbed her arm comfortingly.

Carl chimed quietly, “Just a little bit. Your height’s intimidating for short guys like me.” He cleared his throat. “I was just telling the guys yesterday that I like career-driven women, like Hope and Priya.”

He was not that short.

“I reckon Lottie and Priya are a bit of me, honestly.” Felix grinned. “You two seem like the life of the party.”

Graham grinned. “I fancy Marisol, actually. One of my vices in life is petite women.”

Kassam glanced at Imane, whose eyes progressively dulled like they were becoming crestfallen. Casa de Amor might be the main villa on repeat for her.

“Priya, for sure, but Imane’s really piquing my interest and I rate that.” Arjun said evenly.

And then it was just him remaining.

“Imane.”

Her gaze raised, eyes widened slightly. “Yes?”

Kassam tilted his head and his facial expression softened, just the smallest bit. “Mind if you stand next to me for a moment?”

The Islanders hushed, and there was a moment of silence as everyone turned to stare at her sitting. She slowly rose to her feet and slinked over, their heels clicking against the deck.

He stood slightly shorter than her, by roughly a centimetre or so. The last time he got his height measured the doctor said he was 5’11’’ and some odd millimetres.

With the newly found proximity, Kassam realised what was different about her eyes; the telly made them translate as light brown, but being so close to her now he realised their eyes were in fact hazel.

He leaned in to whisper in their ear, covering his mouth so the others couldn’t lip read. “Keep wearing the shoes you want, Nova. You’ll be alright.”

She sharply inhaled at the name, and Kassam watched her cheeks colour a shade of peach. Imane nodded and covered her own mouth when she whispered back, “You’re really more of a sweetheart than people give you credit for.”

She was incredibly pretty in person.

“Oy!” Graham coughed. “What’re you two mumbling about?”

“Don’t worry about it, sailor.” Kassam grinned, and just in time the phone in his pocket dinged again. “Guess I don’t need to let the cat out of the bag yet; I got a text.

“’Ladies, get ready to speed date the Bomb Squad. Your assigned table has a new water bottle with your name on it and another bottle with your first date. After the first buzzer, you will have 4 minutes to graft, and at the next buzzer the boys will move anti-clockwise to begin your next date. Each Bomb Squad member is allowed 2 dates per girl, so make sure to set a good impression. #TimeIsMoney #Let’sGetGrafting.’”

All the girls spotted the white clothed tables overlooking the hilly scenery and made a mad dash for them, sans Imane who chose to calmly saunter over and Lottie who accompanied her. Arjun bumped shoulders with him, and Kassam looked over to see an amused expression on his face.

“You’re the first guy to make her blush, you know.”

He hid his smile and shrugged, walking over with Arjun and Graham once the girls were situated. Imane was at Table 5, his lucky number.

His eyes found the completely full bottle with an uppercase K sitting across from Lottie at Table 6; he politely nodded at the blonde and sat down.

There was a loud buzzing sound, at G4.

Kassam unscrewed the top of his bottle to pop one of the hydration supplements on the table in.

“An international DJ, eh?” Lottie grinned. “What’s the most famous gig you did?”

He tugged at his ear in thought. “I don’t really care about how notorious my clients are, but off the top of my head I did a sample for Kanye and got one of my composed tracks included on his 2016 album. He and Drake actually were the artists who put me on the radar back when I was just starting by paying me for the remixes of ‘Good Life’, ‘Flashing Lights’,” he made brackets with his hands to censor himself, “‘in Paris’ and ‘Headlines’.” His finger tapped against his bottle. “Drake flew me out to Toronto to feature at one of his shows, and it’s been up for me since. I’m partially to blame for the virality of ‘In My Feelings’ on Drake’s last track list too, since TrapBennyHenny accidentally leaked my rendition of the bassline for the song before the album could get polished and go into its final mixing.”

Her black lips turned into an O shape. “Oh, you cannot be serious… That’s such a big deal to get featured, especially with Ye recognising you. Heard he’s a bit of a picky fella with how his music sounds.”

The chat was not exactly riveting, but Lottie did seem to have the very good skill of listening.

Another buzzing sound, this time at G#4, rang through the air. Kassam briefly smiled at her, and got up to walk to Imane’s table. Elijah was still chatting, as if he hadn’t heard the buzzer, and didn’t seem to notice Kassam standing right next to him.

“Ahem.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The bespectacled man jumped and got up. “See you next round, Imane.”

He sat himself down and crossed his legs underneath the table, a small smile playing on his lips. “Your wrist tattoo’s nice.”

“Thank you, your ink’s impressive too.” The amusement in her eyes gleamed back at him. “Do you speak any other languages apart from English, Kassam?”

“I do, French, and Algerian and Hijazi Arabic. I can get by speaking Berber but I’m not nearly as fluent.” He rubbed his jaw. “How about you? Are linguistics a big interest?”

Imane toyed with the straw attachment on their bottle, her nails painted a sheer acrylic peachy-pink that complemented her complexion well. “The first language I spoke was actually Hijazi and Lebanese Arabic; I was born in Beirut and spent a lot of my childhood in Dubai, and only started learning English when I went to secondary school in the UK. I also speak French, too.”

Kassam chuckled and licked the corner of his mouth, an idea forming in his head. “[You’re an impressive woman.]”

Arabic definitely will not be translated on the show.

“[You’re not too bad yourself.]” She smiled, her dimple fully on display. Hazel eyes gazed into his with a mixture of... intrigue and something else. “What are you hoping for, coming on Love Island?”

She was gauging how his dating goals changed after a few years.

“Honestly?” Kassam took a sip of water, tasting the pomegranate flavour of the supplement. “I wasn’t hellbent on trying to find ‘the one’ here, but sometimes things take you by surprise in life. Fate’s a strange force in the universe all on its lonesome.”

Imane nodded and leaned her chin against the bottle; he realised they had a diamond-shaped face upon a closer look. “I think you’re right about that... You’re very easy to talk to, Kassam.”

Something in his chest thudded out of rhythm, and the buzzer went off again at G#4.

Damn it.

He got up from his chair, turning to look at her as he pushed it in. She was still smiling, fixing a strand of hair behind their ear.

“It’s nice to meet you, Imane. I’ll see you around.”

They waved him off, and he moved onto Marisol. Elijah wasn’t still at the table this time.

There wasn’t much that caught his attention with the conversation, and he rubbed at his ear when Marisol attempted to read his body language. She was completely off.

Hope was next, and he knew there wasn’t anything there when she asked the exact same thing as Lottie. Priya was interesting enough; he found moments where he chuckled at her anecdotes and her quips about estate showings that went wrong. Chelsea was ecstatic to finally get a chance with him, but the conversation never escaped surface-level topics; she didn’t seem to mind or notice.

Kassam returned to Lottie, and she seemed well pleased with herself. She leaned in on the table.

“So. Imane, huh?”

“Pardon?” He blinked and took another drink from his bottle.

The Australian grinned. “You’re my type on paper, but I also know when my type on paper seems to fancy another one of the girls and not me.” She flexed her fingers. “I’m not upset, by any means. They deserve good things, since she’s not exactly had the happiest of times in the main villa.”

“I wouldn’t say I fancy her just yet.” Kassam raised his eyebrows. “Imane’s... intriguing.”

“See, just between the two of us I’ll let you in on something.” Lottie’s voice lowered. “She told me right before the speed dating thing that her heart might only have one more shot at finding love, and if she doesn’t get it right this time around there won’t be a next time. She’s got a lot of trust issues since the Rocco thing happened. Don’t make her fall in love with you if you don’t see something with her so you can get into the villa. Got it?”

He slowly nodded. “Duly noted.”

“Good.” Her long clawlike pointer finger jabbed in his direction. “You’re on your own when it comes to wooing her. Don’t listen to what others might say to you; they don’t know her like that. Just be yourself; she hates insincerity.”

The buzzer went off again, once again at G#4.

Elijah was not at the table this time around. Kassam sat down, and Imane smiled, one knee over the other.

“You’re back, stranger. You can ask me a question first, to make things even.”

He sipped his water, two fingers tapping against the lid. “Hmm.” He twirled the handle of his bottle. “Not too complex of a question, but who’s your celebrity crush and where do you see yourself when you picture your ideal partner?”

Imane’s eyes widened. “Have... you watched every episode of Love Island?”

“I didn’t watch any of the first week’s, just because I had time conflicts with gigs.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

There was a moment of incredulity and silence, with her chewing their lip to hide the whisper of a smile. “It’s nothing, I guess. Coincidences happen.” Their eyes met again. “I like Luca Hänni and Abir... and to answer the second question, I see them cooking in the kitchen and doing the washing. What about you?”

“Nina Kraviz and Zayn. Adriana Lima's a childhood given for any boy who liked girls, but she deserves a mention nonetheless.” Kassam drummed his fingers lightly against the tablecloth. “When I was studying, I’d always meet my exes in the library. I suppose nowadays I can see myself travelling with them outside of work and working together in the same room, not really talking to each other but feeling comfortable in the silence.”

“Did you go to university?” She perked up when he nodded. “What did you study?”

“Accelerated music theory and communications. I did have an interest in maths though, specifically in the theory of relativity. Graduated 2-1 of my year and a term early.” He chuckled. “A bit nerdy for the general DJ crowd, I know.”

Imane pressed their lips together, hazel eyes softening just a tiny bit. “It’s quite charming, actually.”

“Thanks.” Kassam felt heat rush toward his neck, the drumming rhythm sputtering at the end into a compound triple.

“Do you play any instruments?”

“Harp, violin and piano. I just recently started learning electric bass in my free time, and it’s been fun to mess with. You?” She took a sip of her water, coloured indigo. Blueberry.

“Piano and vocals, if you don’t count the 64-pad and turntables.” He smiled. “Look at you, playing more instruments than the musician here.”

She blushed and looked down, and he followed suit to see their hands close enough on the table that if he wanted to touch them he only needed to turn his wrist.

The buzzer went off, at G#4.

Fuck.

Imane was the first to get up, him following shortly, and she easily took their water bottle from the table. When he met her gaze again, her lips curled.

It was the smile of a pageant queen mixed with the shyness of a girl next door; it was bewitching to see and his breathing stopped for a moment. In the split instance, it was just them in the garden listening to the sound of the pool water rippling.

"Thank you for your time, Kassam. I'm looking forward to knowing you better."

The words brought him back, to the sound of ten other people moving about around them.

He let out a smile of his own, a small one that barely ghosted across his face but still a smile nonetheless. "Likewise, Imane."

The speed dates ended quite well, with Carl tripping over a table leg when he went to go hug Lottie and needing A&E attention. Felix and Graham, after the Casa Six excluding the tech businessman got thrown into the beach hut for prompts and questions, were shuttled off to help the girls move their luggage.

Kassam chose to stick behind with Arjun and Elijah in the pool, the three of them taking the luxury of doing laps around and basking in the nice cold water. Their mic packs were tossed onto the sun loungers.

“God, your hair looks out of this world when it’s wet, mate.” Elijah docked himself into the shallower end of the water, leaning against the marble tiles to take a rest.

The Algerian ran a hand through it while making his way over, chuckling in spite of himself. “Is it that curly?”

“Not just that, it’s proper glistening. I can spot a man who takes care of his hair by sleeping on silk or satin any day, trust.” The model smiled and rubbed out a spot in his eye with his knuckle.

Arjun saddled up to the closest corner to both of them, forming a slight triangle between them. “We’re not heathens, Elijah. Satin’s bare minimum or else we’re getting a nest on top of our heads from the Spanish humidity.” A brow raised, followed by a charming uneven smile. “Not gonna lie, I was bricking it wondering if I’d be the only Casa Lad with,” he gestured at himself and Kassam understood, “you know. I'm glad I'm not and that you two are here.”

“With how much pressure the public’s been pushing for diversity since the 2017 season’s release, I’m at least glad we’re breaking into half-half territory for major lineups. 2017 was abysmal with Mason, Reese and Rohan for the men and Erika and Talia for the women in the entire season.” He scoffed and smoothed a hand against his pec.

“Half-half territory might just be where it gets the closest to diverse, being honest. It can go downhill from here real quick, never mind that sometimes the public loves to see us upset or be forever holding the losing end of the bargain.” Elijah tutted his tongue, a slight look of pessimism in his eye before it disappeared and got replaced by a general calmness after the other two men hummed in agreement. “It’s good to have mates to chat to about this type of stuff, especially in a setting like the villa. Keeping stuff in can do your head in.”

The Punjabi moved, a slow smile grazing his features. “You’re quite wise when you do speak, you know.”

“Takes years and years of self-reflection, pretty boy. I’m also turning 28 this year so I’d hope to God I’ve got something going on in my head.” The tallest in the pool stretched out his limbs just as a shadow made its appearance from the back patio.

Graham jogged toward them, stopping at the sun loungers. “Alright, lads? Mind if I crash the party?”

“Pool’s big enough for five of you, big guy!” Arjun shouted back at him.

The ginger took off his mic and dove in, sending a tidal wave hitting the other three; his head popped out from under the water and he positioned himself into the last remaining corner of the square shallow end.

“Felix’s running around being a womaniser inside, so I thought it would be a good time to catch up and get to know where our heads are at. That bloke’s head is everywhere, but I can’t blame him.” A charming show smile was on his face as he thumbed over the tattoos on his fingers. “How did all of your dates go?”

“Some went well, some didn’t.” The Punjabi shrugged, stirring the water next to him with a finger. “Priya, Lottie and Imane are really gems, Priya especially when she smiles.” He chuckled incredulously and shook his head. “I don’t know why no one’s fallen to their knees yet to confess their undying love for her.”

“Hopeless romantic, you.” The model scoffed and hoisted himself out to sit on the edge of the pool. “I’m not going to force anything with the girls. They’re lovely but it’s rough seeing any of them as a proper girlfriend for my lifestyle. I’m just gonna play it by ear.”

Graham glanced over at him in particular, light brown eyes questioning. “And you, sailor?”

Kassam still kept his hand on his pec, fingers gently rubbing out the soreness in his shoulder from swimming. “Imane’s interesting,” he said after a short period of thought.

The other three broke out into smiles at the slight indentation into his thoughts.

“You two looked good sitting next to each other, I’ll have you know that. Lottie and I were people-watching on our last date.” The fisherman reclined into the water, propping his elbows behind him. “Marisol’s where my head is at for the moment, but we don’t share that many things in common which is a bummer.” He stretched. “How long have you lads been single for, by the way? It’s been a year and a half for me. Came back from a deployment to find my bird in bed with a guy from the military.” A slight sneer came onto his lips. “Threw both of them out and gave the prick a broken nose.”

“About four months.” Elijah took a sip from his water bottle. “It wasn’t a committed relationship for long but I found some stuff that made me uncomfortable being with them, so I left.”

“Nine months for me? I’ve been on a few dates here and there since then but nothing seemed to stick.” Arjun was the second to hoist himself out of the pool and perch onto the marble.

The Algerian chewed his lip, rubbing his jaw with a thumb. “It’s been two years.”

A sad whistle came from the model’s pursed lips. “Was Lucy your last ex? I remember reading about your breakup in the news once she went to the press and leaked the fact you two were together.”

“Yeah, she was.” He rubbed his ear, exhaling softly. “I’m finally at a place where I can fully believe that whatever trauma came from that relationship won’t hinder me in a new one.”

The ginger’s brows raised, his expression turning sullen and dark in understanding. “Good on you, Captain. It’s her loss surely, losing a guy like you.”

Kassam shrugged, feeling the tension melt away from his shoulders. “You live, you learn and you sort out which battles are worth fighting. A cheating ex who disrespected my want for privacy is not one of those battles for me.”

“You’ve got an attitude behind all that smouldering quietness, tiger.” Elijah laughed, reaching over to fistbump him. “Good head on your shoulders.”

Someone’s phone dinged from the loungers, and Arjun walked over to find whose it was; after reading the message, he turned back around. “Our things are here! We should get unpacking and get ready for tonight.”

The other two moved to start heading toward the sunchairs as well, but Graham turned his head when he didn’t hear the DJ do the same.

“Coming?”

He tilted his head to the side and twisted his lips. “I need some peace and quiet for a second, but I’ll come up soon.”

“All good.” The fisherman offered him a smile and shouldered the others into the house, leaving just him in the back garden.

Kassam sank down into the water again, holding his breath and opening his eyes in spite of the prickling sensation of the chlorine. He watched the sunrays bypassing into the crystal blue, seeing the light particles sparkle and twirl like chandeliers.

He could feel the ghost of his father’s hands against his back and hear the delighted giggles of a boy who was first learning how to swim.

“[Baba, baba! Look at me!]”

“[You’re doing so well, my bear. Your arms and hands will grow, and one day you might be able to join the Navy like Baba.]” The hands moved up to grasp his shoulders. “[Keep here loose and open or else you’ll lock your joints. Baba's so proud of you.]”

The light shattered and reformed, funnelling toward the deep end of the pool but never quite making it there; there was the creak of a door and the sound of a boy stumbling into a scene he never was meant to see because he didn’t listen to his mother and ran back inside, the lifeless way the arm that used to hold him tight before bed fell onto the floor and familiar curly black hair gleaming with streaks of blood in the moonlight, from being thrown around the room by a group of men that left nothing alive in that house.

Blood was on the walls, on the floor, on the furniture, smudged on his own small hands that would grow one day.

“[… Baba?]”

The green eyes that looked at him with so much warmth were cold, dead.

He was just a boy.

He heard the sound of a baby crying just as something hit the water, raising himself up to gasp for air and spotting a flower floating at the deep end; his legs carried him over, and he picked it up to look at.

It was a speckled dark fuchsia hibiscus, having been carried over by the wind from the front, still intact.

His ears picked up on the sound of singing, and he turned to see where it was coming from.

“Been counting my blessings more (I’ve been counting it) / Found what I was searching for (I think I found it) / Love is a patient war / Some things don't walk through the door / Gotta work for rewards…”

Hope was on the balcony facing the front, her green sarong poking out from the small sliver he could see beyond the railing being the indicating factor. Her voice was rich, full of the colours yellow and orange, but there was another voice with her singing the second verse or joining in harmony.

“It takes time (takes time) / But that time's gonna pass anyways (ways) and if it's worth it / Then it's gonna be worth the wait, it’s true / Because of you, I know the way…”

The second voice was pink and green, perfectly balancing in clarity and silkiness that didn’t compete with Hope’s bold lower soprano but wasn’t overshadowed by it either.

He watched as the visible woman leaned over and seemed to hug someone else, disappearing after a short word and laughter that trickled to him with the wind.

After a while, the second voice’s singing continued, still without him being able to see who it was.

“You brought peace when I thought I'd lose it / My last little bit of clarity, oh / The vision that you've given me, I know / Only for my eyes to see / I need you in control…”

Singular hibiscus petals floated down from the balcony, like someone was picking them off and playing Loves Me Not.

“You took all of my, all of my, all of my pain / Put me right in my purpose, right in my place / Took me out of my comfort, got me used to change / Made it look so easy…”

Kassam knew what song she was singing; it was his lyrics that another R&B artist asked him to ghost write a year ago. He kept his voice low and joined in during the next stanza.

“Ooh, humble down on my knees (down on my knees) / Grateful for the blessings received, even all the ones I can't see / I got all this favour on me / How could you ever love someone that's so incomplete? (So incomplete) / Oh, 'cause all the things you do just leave me amazed…” Blue combined with the pink and green, a perfect G3 to the mystery woman’s B6. “And if I had ten thousand tongues, you'd get the praise (get the praise) / Every day, because of you (you), I know the way…”

His eyes softened. “You brought peace when I thought I'd lose it / My last little bit of clarity, oh / The vision that you've given me, I know / Only for my eyes to see / I need you in control of me…”

The hibiscus flower in his hand felt tingly against his skin as he continued to harmonise, his gaze falling on the rustling oak tree branches.

“You took all of my, all of my, all of my pain / Put me right in my purpose, right in my place / Took me out of my comfort, got me used to change / Made it look so easy…”

Peaceful silence fell in the air as the stanzas ended, and he exhaled through his nose and sighed.

He was calm, finally.

The DJ pulled himself out of the pool, ran a hand through his hair to shake out as much water as possible and headed inside to find the other men.

Chapter Text

He could not for the life of him fall asleep for long; every time he tried, the same nightmare would happen and he’d wake up in a cold sweat and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. It was the same dream, he knew it was, but when he opened his eyes he couldn’t remember what he’d dreamt about in specific.

Lottie snoring in stereo next to him did not help, even with the earplugs he brought in case. She snored in the absolutely horrifying dissonant key of E♭5.

Kassam sighed and sat up, glancing over his eyes with a gentle hand so he wouldn’t move his overnight contacts out of place. They adjusted to the lowly lit setting, and he saw the lumps of different bodies underneath their respective covers. Arjun was sound asleep next to Chelsea, Graham looked like he was sleeping alone but Marisol was somewhere burrowed deep in his arms, Priya and Felix were knocked out next to each other, and Carl and Hope had a pillow wall in between them but both were also asleep.

Elijah, at the far end closest to the windows, was sleeping alone. Lottie told him that Imane grew used to sleeping on the daybed or on the sofa, even after Rocco left. He had the sneaking suspicion it wasn’t a habit but a conscious choice.

He got up and headed for one of the bathrooms outside the communal bed area to shower off the sweat and clear his head.

The welcoming party was an absolute blast, faery lights strung up throughout the garden to make it look like a cosy backyard get-together. One of his mates, Tim Ortiz, was the guest DJ and they had a bit of a chat over the turntables as a catch-up. He hadn’t seen him in a few months, but nothing’s changed between them. They were still laughing together like they did in their early 20s, and it quelled his anxiety to see a familiar face.

“Say,” Tim leaned over to him. “I don’t know if I’m going mad but Imane keeps looking over here. Something going on between you two that I should know about?”

Kassam took a sip of his whiskey neat, fixing the collar of his black dress shirt. “I don’t want her to think I’m grafting just to get back into the villa, so I’m giving them some space to think. It’s tough being in such a time constraint, but I don’t want to brute force my way in just because of that.”

The shorter DJ nodded to the beat. “You’ve got the self control of a god, Sammi.”

He turned the water hot for a split second to feel the jolt down his back before returning it to the cold setting and shutting it off. The water dripped down his nose and hit the tiled floor at an almost perfect five-eighths time signature.

As he was towel drying himself, his ears picked up on a piano melody coming from downstairs. From the sounds of it, it was Liebestraum No. 03.

Kassam stole himself away into the mens’ closet area to throw on his favourite hoodie and beige joggers, and quietly moved down the hallway to scope out the scene. He walked down the stairs and stopped at the last step.

Imane was in a heather satin pyjama top and light grey joggers, barefoot, wearing the same round metal glasses from years ago; their hair was made into a bun, exposing the two trigrams inked behind her left ear.

There was the beginning of a magpie tattoo on her back, right where their heart would be.

And they were humming.

He leaned against the railing, head tilted to the side, and felt the tug of a smile against his lips.

She played wonderfully.

The last chord rang out, and he quietly snapped his fingers in applause. She jumped and turned her head, eyes wide. “Oh my god...”

Without kohl, Imane’s eyes looked gold with little flecks of green.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Kassam smiled apologetically and trotted down the last stair. “You play really well.”

She exhaled slowly through her mouth and gently pat her chest to slow their heart rate. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

He walked over to the grand piano, putting his left elbow on the guide rail and resting his jaw against his palm. “No. Lottie snores and I’m a light sleeper.” His eyes met hers. “Liebestraum’s one of my favourite pieces.”

“Is it really?” She smiled and pushed her glasses up a little bit. “I wanted to learn piano when I was a kid, just to play it.”

“Yeah, I wrote an alternate version of it for my music theory practicum that’s a duet. One part’s the original sheet music but I wrote out an answer to Liszt’s running question that starts playing halfway through.” Kassam chewed his lip. “If you want to hear it, you’ll need to play the original and I’ll play the arrangement.”

Imane blushed, getting up from the cushioned bench to scamper over to the mug on the coffee table. “That’s... very forward of you, Kassam.”

He stayed exactly where he was. “Pinky swear that you’ll be the second person I’ve ever played this for, apart from the professor who marked my arrangement.” He stuck out his little finger and waited.

“Hmm...” They sipped on their tea slowly, bow-shaped lips parted. Her eyes squinted, and she took another sip before putting the mug back down. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”

And she walked back toward him, their own little finger stuck out. They intertwined, and he shook on it.

“You’re going to need to sit on my lap, but I promise I won’t do anything weird.”

Kassam laughed when her cheeks coloured again, but she nodded in affirmation that it was alright. His hand found her waist casually, feeling an almost electric shock jolt up his arm, and he pulled out the bench a little more so they could fit comfortably. He sat and gave her wiggle room to settle down on his thighs; she smelled like jasmine, black currant and rose with a hint of something sweeter. Like brown sugar or vanilla.

There were another two trigrams inked behind her right ear, he just noticed.

“[I’ve got the pedals, don’t worry. You can start playing when you want.]” It took him a moment to realise he spoke French to her.

His voice was deeper when he spoke French, shit.

There was a moment of silence before she sighed and lifted her hands to the keys again.

The A♭ major of the piece filled the air, and he easily tamped down on the sustain pedal and sostenuto pedal with his right foot–sometimes both at the same time–when it was necessary. At the 21st full bar, when Imane’s right hand had a full rest he started to play the F minor arrangement.

“Would you love me?” Her fingers played, the way Liszt had written. “The love that lives past the storm clouds only seems to be in my dreams.”

“I’m here.” His replied. “I’m sorry that I kept you waiting for so long, I’m here.”

“Will you sing me to sleep? I want to see you again.”

“This isn’t a dream; you’re awake. Let me hold you.”

His hands progressively glided their way closer to theirs, and at the key change his right hand fully covered hers like they were dancing. The keys never overlapped, but he did feel her hold her breath when his hand touched hers. With the next key change, their left hands danced together and his right hand went an octave higher than theirs, echoing the same phrases but in its relative minor.

“I promise to love you like you’re dreaming, I promise to cherish you for the rest of my life.”

“I love you like the ocean tide chases the moon. Your embrace can pull me back from the dead, my love.”

“I see heaven in your eyes, my darling. I love you, I love you, I love you!”

The key changed back to A♭ major and F minor, and Kassam’s hands tucked underneath Imane’s to play between hers for the first time.

And their hands hit the final chord in unison, and it was over. The sustain pedal let the harmony ring in the air before he let it go.

His eyes focused on the soft skin of her neck and he bit back every ounce of his being that told him to lean in and kiss it. Nothing weird, you promised that much.

“That was really pretty to listen to.” Imane’s hands lowered from the keys.

Kassam chuckled. “Thanks, I’m glad you liked it. You were a great accompanist.”

She laughed and shifted in his lap. “You’re very welcome.”

They sat in silence for a while, and he glanced over their shoulder at the sensation his left hand was feeling. His neck flushed with heat again.

“Imane, you’re holding my hand.”

The sentence broke the magic, and the girl immediately got up and let go with a soft apology.

“I, um... Sorry, that’s not usually something I do.” She was clearly embarrassed, chewing her bottom lip and looking away.

“It’s alright.” He chuckled and settled down on the couch. “We can chat for awhile, if you’re not sleepy yet.”

“... Sure, I’d love to. I just need to put something in the fridge first.”

Imane hurried to the kitchen, and he heard the fridge open and close, then the sink turn on for a moment. She came back, cheeks slightly less peach than before and some strands of their hair was wet.

They sat down beside him and pulled the duvet over both their laps. “I was making rice milk for horchata tomorrow before you came down here.”

“That’s well nice of you to do. I’d suspect the other Casa Boys to go above and beyond tomorrow morning in order to impress the ladies, but this is unexpected.” Kassam propped a knee up on the cushion.

She let down her hair from the bun it was in, shaking their head just slightly to get the strands to fall back into its usual style. “That’s the thing though. I don’t like it when people do nice things for me when I know it’s just to get in my good books.” Her knuckle pushed her glasses back up. “I wanted to make some because Priya said her preferred hangover drink was horchata, and she’s had a couple of sugary cocktails tonight so no doubt she’s going to be in a mood in the morning.”

He smiled and glanced over to Imane; his overnight contacts were doing its job, since her face was becoming less and less fuzzy. “And if I told you that I like a shot of matcha overtop my horchata order, will I also get one tomorrow morning?”

“I made enough for everyone to have one if they wanted.” She pulled the duvet over her shoulders. “But I’ll keep that in mind; that sounds delicious.”

There was a lull, a soft silence that lingered between them. It didn’t feel awkward at all.

Kassam moved to take off his hoodie and hold it out to her as an offering. “Here, you seem cold.”

Their eyes met his, and she studied him for a while quietly; her nose was burrowed into the duvet like a cat burrowed its nose into its own front paws, and she finally reached out and took it from him.

“You won’t be cold without this?” Imane took off her glasses to tug it over her head, taking a moment to sniff the hoodie before settling it against her shoulders. She put the glasses on the coffee table and snuggled up closer to him, but not close enough to where they were touching just yet.

He shrugged. “I wear them mostly for comfort, not warmth.” His gaze returned to hers. “Besides, you looked like you needed it more than I did. I can always grab another one if it comes down to feeling chilly.”

A dimpled smile crossed her lips, and her arms peeked out from underneath the duvet; his hoodie sleeves covered up to her thumbs. “I suppose you’re right.” She sniffed at the fabric again and stifled a yawn. “English’s difficult when I’m tired, but I’m not sleepy yet. I want to keep you company for a bit.”

“[We can speak in whatever language you want.]” Kassam chuckled and tucked his edge of the duvet into her as a cocoon, gauging her reaction to him speaking French again.

Imane snuggled up against his bare shoulder. “[I just remembered you could.]” Her cheek was warm, and it felt nice. “[Do you have any nicknames, Kassam?]”

She was more informal when speaking in a native tongue, and her voice also dropped when speaking French. It was well cute at D5.

He slipped an arm around her and rubbed little circles on their tricep. “[Yeah, my mates from university days sometimes call me Sammi or Salim. I got my DJ name back then and just chose a different spelling of Salim so it still felt special for my friends to call me that. I hate when people call me Kaz or Kaza, but that's about it.]” Her fingertips brushed against his forehead, and he felt her fix a strand of hair that fell out of place. “[Other than Nova, do you?]”

“[Ehm, my maternal grandparents call me Celine because they wanted to keep with the night-related names. My older sister’s name is Stella, but I looked more like an Imane and a Nova to our parents. They gave my little brother a completely unrelated name to celestial bodies or beings and named him Nadim.]” There was a pause. “[Do you have any siblings?]”

Kassam nodded. “[I’m the oldest, but I have a younger sister named Nadia and I had a younger brother, named Rayan. He passed when he was a baby, so it’s just been me and Nadia for most of my life.]”

Imane pouted, her lower lip jutted out slightly. “[I’m sorry to hear that.]” He gave a gentle kiss on their hairline and rubbed her arm.

“[It’s okay, you don’t need to say sorry.]” He smiled and rested his cheek against the top of her head. “[How long have you been wearing glasses?]”

She stifled another yawn, wrapping her arms around his left one lazily. “[This is really silly, but I don’t actually need to wear them. I have 20/20 vision, but I like the look of glasses sometimes and they make me feel pretty; I think some people suit them well.]”

That made him stop for a moment. “[That’s not silly, if they make you feel good, then they’re valuable to you.]”

“[You think so?]” Her voice was quiet. “[A lot of people call me strange when they find out my glasses aren’t prescription, but it’s nice to hear you say otherwise.]” He could feel her relax against him. “[You’d look good in glasses, actually.]”

Kassam inhaled sharply but let out a breath very soon after. “[I’ll keep that in mind.]”

His fingers gently carded through her hair, admiring the shininess of the dark brown that almost appeared black in the lighting. His voice lowered.

“[What do you want to do with your degree, Imane?]”

There was a comfortable silence, and her hand found his underneath the duvet. Their fingers laced together.

“[I want to be part of Doctors Without Borders or work in a hospital, as a wellness counsellor for children with PTSD and other mental unrest from war-caused trauma. It’s great to have doctors who can treat physical injuries, but children need to have their mental injuries tended to as well, especially since they’re so young.]” She gently ran her free hand along his forearm, mapping out the veins she felt. “[How did you get interested in doing music as a career?]”

“[I always sang to my sister when we were younger; it was the only thing that could calm her down when she was crying from nightmares. Music became a coping mechanism for me to sort out my feelings, to an unhealthy level when I was 14 or so. I realised when I started putting out tracks on a music platform that people related to my messages and it made me feel less in my own head. It definitely took my mum some time to process that I wasn’t becoming a doctor, but she came to one of my gigs in uni and saw how everyone seemed to heal for just a while when they were listening to my music. She came around in the end.]”

Imane touched the beginning of his forearm tattoo. “[I’m glad she did. Trying to force someone into what you want them to be doesn’t ever end well.]” She hummed and leaned into his hand playing with her hair. “[You’re really good at this, Sammi...]”

His heartbeat thudded irregularly at the nickname, and he hoped that she couldn’t hear it. He just kept stroking through their hair and managed a chuckle.

There was another comfortable phase of silence.

"[I didn't get to ask why you came on Love Island during our speed date, Nova.]" The Algerian's fingers smoothed through the silky strands of dark brown.

She huffed out a breath, a laugh coming out of the tail end of it. "[Can you wager a guess?]"

He thought about it, lips sticking out in a pout while in thought. "[For the experience? I don't quite peg you for the type who genuinely believes they can fall in love with a stranger on a television programme.]"

"[Close enough.]" Her hand trailed against his forearm bands. "[Love Island is a romantic escapist's fantasy; I'm here just to try it out.]" He felt her smile against his skin. "[Then again, you're not really a stranger to me, are you?]"

His heart squeezed. She did actually remember him.

Kassam hummed, twiddling his pointer fingertip against theirs. "[Would you consider us estranged but barely acquaintances?]"

"['Barely acquaintances but strangely familiar' is a good way to put it actually.]" Imane sighed, settling into the duvet. "[After you rejected me, I got into another relationship and deleted the app. Clearly, that relationship didn't work out.]"

He chortled, squeezing her hand. "[I didn't reject you; I wasn't what you were looking for, so I saved you the heartbreak of dealing with me back then.]"

She flicked his forearm, thumb lazily rubbing circles into his skin. "[Did you make anyone suffer in my stead, Sammi?]"

"[No. I've talked to a few people, but nothing longterm.]" His cheek rested against her head. "[I chose to focus almost all of my energy into career, relocate myself from Manchester to London for a change, take care of my family and also how to make myself dateable again than try to be something I wasn't, which at the time was a good boyfriend.]"

"[You were a busy man these two years, I'm impressed.]" She closed her eyes, dark eyelashes catching the moonlight and his breath. "[Do you think this is fate's strange way of giving us another shot and seeing if your goal of becoming boyfriend material was successful?]"

He shrugged slightly, turning his head to kiss the top of her hair. "[I don't know, we'll just have to see.]" He smiled. "[I'd like it to be true though.]"

"[Me too, Sammi.]" Imane snuggled more into him slightly. "[I'd be lying if I said when I saw you step out that I didn't realise that I kind of missed you, in that 'barely acquaintances but strangely familiar' way.]"

He stopped breathing for a moment, his Adam's apple feeling stuck momentarily and unable to bob.

"[Yeah.]" The Algerian whispered, thumbing over the back of her hand. "[I felt that way during our speed date and you just put it into words, Nova.]"

He had missed her, two years later.

She only let out a soft laugh, and there again was a lull of peaceful and comforting silence.

”[Are you a man of faith, Sammi?]” Her voice was sweet, hands gently stroking his arm.

He paused, staring off at the wine shelf in front of them at the wax seals on several bottles of red. A soft sigh came from parted lips. “[Not particularly, but I’ve been trying to get back to some level of devotion. My relationship with religion's quite difficult.]”

The brunette hummed, fingers trailing along his skin and drawing out a spiral against his wrist slowly. “[Do what feels right to you.]” She smiled. “[I grew up in a loosely culturally religious family, so I’m not the most devoted in faith either. I care more about people than what’s haram because my mum raised me with practices that centred around humanitarianism and not institution.]” There was a short pause where she inhaled a long breath. “[Call me a bad egg in the bunch if that’s what I am.]”

“[Compassion is hard to come by nowadays, you know.]” Kassam kissed the top of her head, feeling her shift closer into him. “[It’s your gift from Allah.]”

She hummed. “[That’s not a bad way of putting it, actually... 'A gift from Allah'.]” Their body relaxed subtly. “[I like it.]”

There was yet another bout of comfortable silence, blue eyes registering the sense of peace. He breathed out of his nose and rubbed her wrist with a gentle thumb.

“[What are your thoughts on having kids and getting married, love?]” The term slipped out of his lips by accident, and it was too late to shove it back in.

Imane didn’t seem to mind, opting to giggle sleepily and yawn. “[I’d love to adopt, preferably get permanent guardianship over adoption, but not any time soon, since I’m still young and I think I need to mature a bit more before committing to a little one. I definitely want marriage and children in the future whenever that is. If I were to give a rough guess when I’ll be looking to adopt...? Maybe in my early or mid-30s.]”

She was too good to be true.

Kassam gently brushed through her hair again, hearing a sigh of contentment from them.

“[You’re scarily easy to open up to, Sammi.]” She thumbed over the back of his hand serenely, her lashes fluttering shut. “[I hope I can call you that.]”

“[You can call me whatever you want, Nova.]” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the soothing aromatherapeutic fragrance of her hair products. Rose and jasmine, with a small bit of mint.

He played with her hair even when her thumb stopped moving against his skin and their breathing deepened, and only after she had fallen asleep for certain did he begin to move and lay her down on the sofa in a comfortable sleeping position with her head on the pillow she probably grabbed earlier on in the night. Her face was so at peace and so calm, and the small smile that appeared when he gave her a kiss on the cheek was more than enough.

She was so pretty, even in the most vulnerable state of theirs.

Kassam went back upstairs to grab another one of his hoodies, removed the kohl still smudged around his eyes, then headed outside to the daybed; he promised Graham to work out first thing in the morning and it would be nice to wake up with the sun.

He didn’t dream at all, and he woke up to the sun shining halfway through sunrise and the morning birds chirping. He luckily seemed to get through his full sleep cycle so his body didn’t feel like it was leadened; it was hard to tell without a watch, but he might have gotten somewhere around 4 and a half hours.

A power nap during the day would do.

Graham was bustling around the kitchen, whistling when Kassam walked in after freshening up and changing into his workout clothes. “Lottie’s snoring really did your head in, eh?”

“Could not be a worse combination in the world, being a light sleeper and having perfect pitch while sharing the bed with an avid snorer. I don’t know how the rest of you did it.” Kassam shook his head and chugged his pre-workout. “I guess it’s soldiering the daybed for me from now on.”

Imane appeared, still in his hoodie but most likely wearing a swimsuit underneath with how her legs were out on display. It cut off at her upper thigh. “Good morning, Graham.” She smiled. “Good morning, Kassam. Horchata will be ready to drink in an hour.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve had a banging horchata, thanks for making it.” The fisherman’s eyes locked onto the hoodie, and he glanced between the two others in the room. He didn’t say anything about it, but Kassam knew there was something whirring in between his ears.

She took out the glass jug with a cheesecloth from the fridge, softly setting it out on the counter. “The girls drank a little too much last night, so I thought it would be a good pick-me-up for everyone.” They took a look underneath his hoodie before pulling it off of her, revealing the creme-coloured bathing suit that showed off her sides and soft skin.

The bronze fastener that rested right above her navel was shaped like a crescent moon. A belly button piercing caught the light, and Kassam forgot how to breathe.

“Thank you for letting me wear this.” Her voice brought him back, and he blinked to see her holding out his hoodie.

He took another sip of his pre-workout. “You can keep wearing it; I don’t mind.”

“Oh.” Imane’s hands lowered, cradling the fabric to their chest. “It’s going to smell like me if I keep wearing it though.”

“The wash exists for a reason. It’s not the end of the world. If you want it to smell like me again just tell me and I’ll wear it around.”

Graham put a hand on his shoulder and steered him out of the room. “Sorry Imane, I’m taking Kassam on a date to the gym.” Once they were outside and headed away from the others who were lounging on the beach chairs, he lowered his voice. “What the fuck was that?”

“The fuck was what?” Kassam propped up his bottle on the deck and pulled off his shirt.

“Did you lay down the pipe with Imane? Why’s she got your jumper on first thing in the morning?”

He snorted and stretched himself out. “Is that the only time you let girls wear your things? She was awake and we talked for a bit; I gave them my hoodie because she was cold and she fell asleep in it.”

Graham’s brows raised. “No bits at all?”

“No bits.” He gently hoisted himself up onto the pull-up bar and began balancing himself on the bar using his forearms. “I know we’re on a time crunch but I don’t want her to think I’m being forward for the sake of it when I’m normally not this way on the outside. I want to form a connection with her that isn’t just based on acting off physical attraction, you know? They’re fit as hell but there’s so much more to them than her looks.”

“You reckon even if Imane doesn’t bring you back, it still would be worth your while? Like she’d ring you once the show’s over?” The fisherman sat down on the bench and started lifting.

Kassam’s lips pressed together, feeling the mic rest against his chin. “Even if I don’t make it back, at least I made her happy in here and she’s made me happy too. Not sure if it’s love just yet.” His words were genuine. “It’s too early to tell.”

“I get your tune, sailor.” Graham smiled. “Just between us, I think she appreciates you giving her the space to think. Lottie mentioned to me at the party that you were like a breath of fresh air for Imane. Even Lucas was too forward with her.”

He swung his legs down and landed on the heels of his feet to help the other shoulder off the barbell. “Too forward how?”

“Grafted the shite out of her during the 3 days he was in there and kissed them half an hour before he walked out. Apparently the kiss came too soon or something, it was outta nowhere and everyone watching on the telly saw that she didn’t kiss him back. Felt bad for the guy honestly.”

Kassam hummed and took the pair of 120 dumbbells to do chest reps. “Eh, thinking we’re gonna be the exception is a humbling experience when we’re not.”

“Wise words, Captain. I can’t believe we’re just one year apart in age, you sound so much older than you are.” Graham helped him up, a rough and calloused palm on his back.

“I’ve gotten uncomfortably honest with myself.” He chuckled and went back down on the bench to do a second rep. “How are you and Marisol doing?”

The ginger grinned. “Good so far. She’s not my usual type but she’s real interesting.” He shrugged. “I really like her actually. She’s just… I don’t think we’ll work outside of a summer romance but I’ll work with the wind however it blows. She’s a bit vanilla is all.”

Kassam laughed, exhaling through his nose. “We’ve got more in common than what meets the eye, mate.”

“Oy.” Brown eyes widened. “Who would’ve thought? I wouldn’t have pegged you for that crowd, honest to God.”

“Please, I have a song called 'Disrespect Me' and get asked to play at dungeons all the time.” He rolled his eyes and smiled. “What’s your scene?”

“Big into leather and roleplay. I got into the scene when I was serving in the Marines and I found that getting battered up felt nice, which definitely wasn't what I was expecting out of military status." The ginger's lips curled upward when the other's brow raised, both pairs of eyes finding a mutual respectability even during the brief silence. "Sometimes when I’m drinking vodka, I turn more experimental than usual and I’ll fool around with hard chains and rope, but those are my two deadset cheeky moods.” Graham easily took the dumbbells off his hands. “'Disrespect Me' is enough of a hint for me to know what floats your boat, sailor.”

”I go both ways but it was harder to admit I liked having no control and getting humiliated, so I did the logical thing and wrote a song about it to get over my shame. It trended for a full two weeks.” Kassam stood next to the ginger’s head and kept a careful eye on his form. “Sensory deprivation is fun too. I also quite like bondage and D/S, with a dash of sadomasochism.”

Graham grunted. “Hah, you’re a little cheeky devil. You a switch?”

“Yessir. It takes a large deal of trust to get me in the submissive headspace but when I’m there it’s always a good time.” He shouldered the weights and let the other sit up for a breather.

“More power to you. I let a lass try it out on me and the second she called me a good boy I wanted to crawl into a hole.” The taller laughed and went back down on the bench, gesturing for the dumbbells. “You know, it’s strange since I’ve seen all the other girls get frisky from the telly but your bird’s the only one who’s refrained. I can’t even guess if she’s into our type of bedroom play in the slightest.”

“I’d love to say she is, but that’s just probably me daydreaming.” Kassam shrugged and tapped underneath his brow to quell the itch under his skin. “I’m not really the type of lad who discusses intimate details the day after though, so even if we do link on that level you lot won’t get the goss from me and that’s a promise.”

The accordion doors opened, and Imane stepped out with two glasses and a small ceramic bowl on a bamboo tea tray. Her feet were bare but she still walked on the tips of their toes slightly as she made her way over to the gym.

“I felt a little itch on my ears, boys.” She set the tray on the outside table. “Talking about me when I’m not around?”

Her legs looked fucking good in the sun, having a slight sheen from body oil or sunscreen. They shimmered and let the sunlight hit the dainty constellation inked against her calf, a sun and moon following the inside curve of her right leg upward to meet the phoenix.

A thin gold chain wrapped around her left ankle over an ouroboros tattoo, teasingly trailing up the two sides of her almost fully ink-barren leg before ending in a circlet on the thickest part of her thigh.

He bit down on his tongue. Unreal.

Graham laughed and put down the weights. “Just chatting about when our drink was coming out, lass. We can hear the other girls groaning from here.”

Imane stuck out her tongue and made quick work at the table. “Patience, sailor. If you keep yapping, I’ll make you do the wash.” She turned around, two glasses of horchata in her hands. One of them had matcha slowly diffusing into the drink. “Here you are, a nice cold drink to start your morning.”

She held out the one with the matcha toward Kassam. He took it and Graham took the other, looking between them with shifty eyes.

“Hmm, favouritism much?” he said jokingly while taking a sip of the drink. “Still, cannot complain. This horchata’s banging on its own.”

Kassam chuckled. “I put in an order early, relax.” He drank, tasting the earthiness of the tea mingling with the comforting cinnamon and vanilla. “This is really good.”

Her lips curved upward, and the dimple appeared. “You’re welcome.” There was a mysterious glint in her eye that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared. “Graham, would you mind working the espresso machine? Marisol said she wanted a long shot in hers. I can do the rest, but I want the coffee to have time to cool.”

“Sure can, Imane. Consider it my thanks.” And the fisherman sauntered off back in the house, leaving the two of them together.

His eyes fell back to her, noticing she looked a bit tired; there was a sleepiness in her kohl-lined eyes, but she looked content. “Did I keep you up?”

She shook her head. “The girls got a video message this morning about what’s been happening back at the villa, and a lot of it was upsetting for the others. I actually had a decent night’s sleep, though it wouldn’t hurt to take a midday nap.” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Liebestraum kept playing in my dreams, and it was really nice as a lullaby.”

“Mmm. I had a good time chatting with you last night.” He took another sip. “It’s not everyday when I can freely speak French to someone.”

“Likewise. You’re a nice soul to talk to, Sammi.” His heart stuttered again, and she smiled. “I like to keep nicknames a private thing, since I know there are some people who don’t like their business nosed around in.”

Kassam cleared his throat and nodded. “Very intuitive of you, Nova.”

Imane giggled. “I try my best.” She grabbed the bottle of sunscreen off the tray and held it out to him. “Would you mind putting some on my back and shoulders?”

“Not at all. You’re gonna need to hold onto this though.” He traded his glass for the bottle, and almost swore out loud when they turned around while pulling their hair up to the front.

There was close to no fabric, with only two shoulder straps that plunged down in a V-shape and met at the bronze heart fastener placed on the small of her back. She had dimples of Venus and a serpent around a rose tattooed on their lower right back, a Scorpio symbol daintily inked on her mid-spine. The magpie’s right wing perfectly traced along her shoulder blade, beak pointed at the ouroboros that wrapped around her right shoulder.

Fuck.

Whoever did the line work and shading on her tattoos needed a raise. They were so thin and precise.

He squeezed an appropriate amount of sunscreen to start off, working it in between his hands before starting with her shoulder blades. She purred and leaned into his touch.

“What do the trigrams behind your ears mean?” He allowed his hands to travel up toward her neck, rubbing out the knots in their shoulders. Her sunscreen smelled lightly of flowers.

Imane let out a contented sigh. “They’re the four trigrams on the South Korean flag; I have the ones symbolising Earth and Fire tattooed behind my left, and the ones symbolising Heaven and Water behind my right. They’re perfectly balanced out with their energies, so it helps me realise in the bigger picture bad things come with the good and things that put me out of my comfort zone sometimes are good for me.” She exhaled. “I have the other four elemental trigrams tattooed right here.” Their left leg trailed up the side of his, and sure enough he spotted four different trigrams vertically stacked on top of the ouroboros, right above her heel. "From top to bottom, they represent Wind, Mountain, Thunder and Valley. Pretty, right?"

Kassam hummed affirmatively, hands travelled back down and away from her spine to grip her by the hips. She took a step back and fit herself into his arms.

“I’m sweaty, love...” His lips neared their ear and she chuckled, pressing up against him and running two fingers along the tattoos on his arm. He growled and fought every fibre of his being screaming at him to bite down on her shoulder and relish in them moaning. “Couldn’t you have waited until after I rinsed off?”

Her skin was so soft and warm.

He was just a man being tempted by a goddess.

“I don’t mind it. You look good sweaty, I couldn’t help myself... and your sweat doesn’t stink.” She giggled when his fingers found a tender spot on her stomach; he gently pressed a few kisses into her hair, letting his hands travel down her arms, over the floral dragon black and colour-mixed tattoo inked along the outside of her left upper arm before letting them go. She still smelled like roses, jasmine and black currant and something sweet.

And him. She smelled like him now.

They traded the glass for her sunscreen again, cheeks peachy and absolutely glowing. “Thanks Sammi, I better fix up the other drinks before they come looking for me.” And she scampered away with the tea tray, back into the house.

He looked down at the rim of his cup, seeing a soft smudge of something shiny and slightly pink. Imane had taken a sip without him realising, and he turned the glass over in his hands so his lips could touch where they drank from.

Their lip oil tasted vaguely fruity, like plum or white peach.

He was so ridiculously horny, fucking hell.

Kassam had so much fodder for new lyrics now.

He calmed down in the shower after dodging Chelsea in the hallway, who seemed to aim for a kiss on the cheek. It was an odd occurrence and she seemed taken aback by him not wanting her attention.

Weird.

The afternoon was largely uneventful, sans avoiding Priya trying to give him a shoulder kiss at the pool when the group was playing Jenga with prompts on them as an icebreaker. From his peripheral he saw Lottie poke Imane’s thigh.

Graham pulled a block that said “State your body count. Person who pulled goes first and clockwise.”

Everyone rattled around with numbers in the dozens, but when it came to him halfway sat in the circle Kassam held up 5 fingers to the astonishment of the others.

“Only five?” Graham’s brows were raised. “Holy shit.”

He nodded, smiling. “One night stands aren’t really my thing.”

The numbers hiked back up until they reached Imane.

“Four.” They were loosely crossing their legs. “I think it’s a compliment when they keep coming back.”

Yes ma’am.

The next few prompts were to be expected: who liked threesomes (Lottie, Arjun, Imane, Elijah, Carl and him kept their hands down), who’s cheated on a partner (Marisol and Elijah reluctantly raised their hands), who the other Islanders thought was the most stylish.

Imane and Lottie tied for the girls, and all the boys (even Elijah) pointed at him.

Kassam had pulled the “Raise your hand if you’re into non-vanilla cheeky fun and/or prefer it over vanilla” block. He raised his hand, and so did Graham.

So did Priya and Imane. His ears felt like they were burning when she met his gaze and waved at him.

She did like BDSM.

They rattled around the group again, Imane daringly and successfully dislodging a block that made the tower wobble.

“Guess the zodiac signs of your fellow Islanders.” She placed the block on the top. “The girls are going to be easy; we’ve all told each other our signs. Chelsea’s a Libra, Priya’s a Pisces, Hope’s a Capricorn, Marisol is an Aries.” Her lips turned upward. “Lottie’s a Scorpio, like me.”

“I get the bragging rights of being born on Halloween.” Lottie stuck out her tongue. “But November Scorpios are definitely better than October Scorpios.”

Imane turned to the Casa Amor boys, eyes examining facial expressions.

“Carl, you’re a Capricorn.” The businessman’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Felix, Gemini.” The guy’s jaw dropped.

“Graham, a Cancer. The crab tattoo really stands out.”

The fisherman laughed. “My love for crustaceans was written in the stars.”

She looked over at Elijah and Arjun, who were right next to each other. “Arjun, you’re a Sagittarius. If I’m not mistaken you’re a Scorpio-Sagittarius cusp baby.” She received a gasp as a response. “Elijah, another Cancer.”

Her eyes met Kassam’s, and he cocked an eyebrow.

“You, sir, are a Taurus.”

He raised his hands in defeat. “Aquarius moon and Scorpio rising, at your service.”

She smiled and poked out her tongue. “[Loyal, jealous, intense, reassured and selfish lover?]” Her Arabic was so pretty to listen to.

Kassam winked. “[I’m an acquired taste.]”

Arjun picked a block that made him kiss the tallest girl there, and he planted a chaste kiss on Imane's forehead to make her laugh. Elijah seemed pleased that it wasn't a kiss on the lips before he pulled a block that made all of the lads do 30 push-ups. Graham high-fived Kassam after both of them finished the quickest.

Carl toppled the tower quickly after and got a text that he needed to do the dish washings for the day as punishment.

The Punjabi pulled him over after the games settled down. "Help a fella out with lunch, would you, brother?"

"A little daunting cooking for twelve people on your lonesome?" The Algerian smiled as the two of them walked into the kitchen. "What are you planning?"

"Aloo ki tikki, aloo gosht, aloo baingan and urad dal. Graham said mostly everyone can handle their spices, but we'll tone it down for safety. Don't want to have a Gary situation here, do we?" The bearded man laughed, gesturing at the aubergines on the countertop before putting on some music from his phone. "Can you dice these up into big cubes and long chunks, brother? They're already washed."

He nodded as the other got started rinsing the herbs. "How are you finding things in here?"

Arjun hummed under his breath, methodically patting his share dry with a kitchen towel. "Surprising, for sure." He leaned back so his voice could lower and the other could still hear him. "I know we're meant to be grafting on the girls, but Elijah's been really catching my attention. We had a bit of a moment last night."

"More power to you two." The DJ chuckled and easily sliced the first aubergine in half length-wise. "I don't think production factored in bisexual men into the equation here, but I'm happy that you've found a spark with someone."

"We relate on a lot of things. I mean, generally men like us do find solace with each other." The Punjabi diced through the coriander and Thai basil, putting them in separate bowls. "The only real difference is religion, but it's really not a big deal to either of us. We've had interfaith relationships before."

Kassam hummed affirmatively, slicing the vegetable slightly diagonally and evenly. "You seem happy when you talk about him, which is a good start. He's a good sort."

"For sure, he's more animated than most people here will ever know." He ducked to find garlic. "Are you religious too, Kassam?"

His hands still worked while there was a period of silence between the two, his gaze still focused on prep work.

After a while, he answered. "I grew up Sunni Muslim, but there was a long period where I became atheist or pessimistically agnostic. I'd still participate in Ramadan and the like, but I'd never pray or attend guided scripture readings." He moved the diced aubergine to the side to prepare the garlic. "I'm slowly incorporating more Muslim beliefs back into my life, but it's still difficult for me to go to mosques."

"Ah, I'm sorry that you felt like you were abandoned by Allah for whatever reason it was." The other brunet offered a comforting smile. "I'm a Shia Muslim myself, but I know it must have been difficult grappling with yourself and your faith."

The Algerian shrugged. "I think there's beauty in questioning institutionalised beliefs and taking the ones you believe in because it feels right to you rather than the ones forced on you. I don't think it's haram to love outside of your faith, love someone that isn't a woman, or that it's haram to get tattoos, clearly, but I never eat meats that aren't halal because of ethical practices on the animals, withhold Zakat or wish evil on someone else. I still drink and smoke in moderation because I think what's actually forbidden is intoxication and not just mere consumption. It's all about self control and not overindulging for me."

"Good man, good man." Arjun rinsed two white onions under cold water before quickly getting to work chopping. "I don't drink because I get the worse hangovers known to mankind, but it being haram is a close second reason why."

They laughed and kept preparing the ingredients; Kassam started shaving the boiled potatoes with a paring knife easily and cutting them for the food processor, cubing the rest once he filled a bowl as instructed. It was nice to have someone's company in the kitchen, listening to R&B and hip-hop and head-nodding to the beat. Only after Arjun busted out a few groovy dance moves to "One, Two Step" while washing the cutting boards did he reciprocate the behaviour, to much of the other's surprise seeing the ease and fluidity of his movements. He just smiled and brushed off his shoulder like it was no big deal.

He didn't look the type to dance, anyhow.

The Punjabi piled in the ingredients of each curry dish into their appropriate pots and turned his attention to making the potato cutlets. "I also might have had a giant ginger faery whisper to me this morning that Imane's been cracking onto you so I wanted to pull you in for details."

"She asked me to rub sunscreen on their back and shoulders after Graham and I worked out." He waited for the food processor to talk again, still head-nodding subtly to the beat. "I quite liked it honestly."

"Ugh, like anyone wouldn't have died on the spot if she asked them to. In that bathing suit too? Just exquisite." The taller rolled his eyes and grinned. "I did see her wearing your hoodie in the kitchen when I came downstairs, the black one with the roses on it. They looked so happy."

Kassam chewed his lip to conceal the small smile creeping against his mouth at the image of her sipping their own horchata with his oversized hoodie almost fully covering her hands. "She needs to give that back to me one of these days. I lent it to her last night."

Arjun snapped his fingers and nodded his head. "No midnight antics?"

"Nope." He joined in forming the small palm-sized patties. "We talked for an hour or so before she fell asleep."

"So she really is keen on you if she's letting you keep them up like that. Pat yourself on the back." The younger winked at him. "And she gave you a specialised horchata? You're a lucky man."

The DJ chortled and shoved the other with a gentle forearm to the shoulder. "I throw hands like a proper Geordie boy if you're not careful with me."

Priya and Imane walked in soon after, smiling about something to each other. The taller girl looked over him, their peachy lips half parted into a pretty heart shape.

"My ears keep itching today..." Imane coyly raised an eyebrow at him, lips curling when his even expression didn't give anything away. "I wonder who's talking about me when I'm not around."

The real estate agent grinned, filling the gooseneck electric kettle in the sink. "We were just talking about what music we like listening to, boys. Would you care to share too?"

"Desi pop, baby, and essentially anything from Bollywood films. Love me an O Saki Saki and Dilbar on any day of the week." Arjun finished up the last patty and started layering the eggwash on several at a time. "Arab pop's a banger too; I listen from time to time. Reggaeton and R&B are also in my playlists."

"I was going to call your taste in music Uncle Status, but then you said Arab pop and reggaeton." The brunette took the kettle from Priya and set it on its base, turning it on. "Both you and Priya have a thing for pop."

"Call it South Asian taste, Ane." The redhead did a short dance segment of O Saki Saki, her gold bracelets jingling with each twirl and purposeful movement of her arms, spinning to look him in the eye. "And how about you, Mister DJ?"

Kassam went over to the sink to wash his hands. "I listen to almost everything. R&B, orchestra, reggaeton, hip-hop, Latin pop, Arab pop, Desi pop, Canto pop, Mando pop, dark industrial, jazz, 80s Japanese soul, it depends on what mood I'm in. Techno's really only for my job, but now Western pop's merging with the genre a lot so there are grey areas where mainstream pop songs are arguably techno."

Imane was smiling slightly when he turned around with the hand towel folded and slung over his shoulder. "You have a very colourful musical palette, Kassam."

He returned the soft facial expression, shrugging nonchalantly. "I lived with a Latino, a Chinese guy and a Pacific Islander for all three years of university. It comes with the territory to share tastes in music."

"Your flat was more diverse than my entire university campus." Priya rolled her eyes teasingly and stuck out her tongue. "Do you have a turntable for those older music genres?"

"I collect records for soul, jazz and 90s and early 2000s R&B. I'm trying to keep my collection minimalistic so I don't hoard, but I have quite a few of my all-time favourite records in there." The Algerian helped bring over the finished aloo ki tikki to the stove, bringing out the cast iron pan from the cabinet. "What about you, Imane? What genres do you listen to?"

The brunette leaned against the countertop, a breath away from his elbow grazing her soft skin. Hazel eyes gazed into blue, a hint of curiosity and intrigue lurking underneath the surface, as they flicked back the strand of hair behind her shoulder. She lazily reached over to fix the piece of hair that was falling against his forehead.

"I listen the most to R&B, but reggaeton, Latin pop and Arab pop are all in my favourites." She smiled, withdrawing her hand, and turned so their bodies weren't as close much to his dismay. "You're really interesting."

The kettle boiled and automatically shut off, and he rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"I can say the same for you." Kassam smiled and made a hand touching gesture against his heart, which she returned coyly. "Now shoo, after you finish making your teas. There are too many chefs in the kitchen."

It was a good time for a power nap, since things calmed over and the entire group dispersed into smaller clustered duos and trios to chat. Lunch went over without a hitch, so there was an additional lull in activity.

He snuck back into the communal bedroom with his leatherbound journal filled with lyrics and a continual divot within the pages where he had a bad habit of tapping his pen cap to a beat in his head hard enough for the pages to give.

He dove into the rocking daybed in front of the large windows after putting on his weaker prescription reading glasses and started jotting down prose, feeling the bed sway underneath his weight.

The taste of white peach lingered in the back of his throat, and he almost could feel her smiling lips against his–hungry and pleading. And so, he wrote about it. There was the distant sound of chatter that ebbed and flowed coming from downstairs.

When he was finishing up the second new page, the door opened. His pen stopped and he glanced up to see who it was.

Imane’s eyes were the first thing he saw. She apologetically took a step back.

“I’m not interrupting your quiet time, am I?”

Kassam shook his head and closed his journal. “Not at all. I was just about to take a short nap, actually.”

Her eyes lit up, and she closed the door behind her. “Would you mind if I napped with you?” She’d changed out of her swimsuit and into a sheer taupe lace bodysuit tucked into beige joggers.

The navel piercing glinted underneath the fabric.

“Be my guest. Had enough talking with people?” He pulled back the duvet as an invitation and they easily slid into the bed, putting the glass cup filled halfway with tea on the table next to them. The bed swayed again with the additional weight.

Imane got comfortable before turning to look at him. “Something like that.” She smiled, lips glistening a shade of sheer peachy pink. Very plush and soft. “You do look good with glasses on.”

Kassam chuckled and ruffled his hair, feeling a few strands fall against his forehead. “Thank you, I didn’t expect you to see me in these so soon but it’s a welcomed change of plans.”

“They suit your face well.” Their hands reached up to toy with the legs of his glasses, and he could smell the sweet floral aroma of her hand creme.

Her lips parted, and a moment passed before he heard her whisper.

“[You look really hot in them.]” In French. She said he looked hot, in French.

His heart almost jumped out of his chest; his fingers moved to touch her hair and brush it out of their face.

“[I’ve never heard you be so forward before.]” He bit down on his tongue when she took the glasses off of him and he felt her leg sling across his waist.

She laughed quietly and reached over him to put them on the table, some of her weight pressing against his hips. “[There are many facets of me you’ve never seen before, Sammi.]” They fully straddled him and put a hand against his chest while drinking more of their tea, just sitting on him and watching his expression.

He didn’t move, but his pants were feeling much tighter than before.

Her eyes softened and she let her hand glide up to his neck, resting briefly against his skin like she was about to choke him and feeling his breath catch in his throat, before continuing up to stroke his cheek. “[Good boy...]”

And the purr in her voice was gone as quickly as it came. She put her tea back on the table and settled down comfortably on his chest, with their hands tucked underneath their chin. Her legs, gratefully, were arranged in a way she wasn’t pressed up against his crotch.

Their noses were almost touching. She smiled.

“What kind of bedroom fun are you into, Sammi? You seemed very pleased when I raised my hand during the challenge.” Her breath smelled like jasmine, soft and sweet, and she relaxed feeling his arms wrap around her waist.

He cleared his throat and rubbed the small of their back with a thumb, subtly moving his left knee up so he could slowly calm himself down from his arousal. “How about we trade kinks? After I say one of mine, you say one of yours.”

Their voices were both quiet enough that he was certain no one could hear them from outside the door.

Imane stuck out her left pinky finger and they shook on it.

“I like anything to do with hands.” Kassam tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Choking or being choked, I can do with either depending on my mood.”

She hummed and settled her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m into physical restraints, like handcuffs or ribbons or neckties.”

He planted a soft kiss to her forehead. “Having someone tie you up or you tying someone else up?”

“Both.” She tilted her head to give his collarbone a kiss. “Sometimes I find it hot when my partner can force me from being dominant into submissive, but on other occasions I can’t have my headspace changed like that.”

His fingers slipped just below the waistband of her highwaisted joggers, and he kept them there. “Safe words exist for a good reason. Anyone who can’t respect your boundaries and tries to push is an asshole and deserves to get their teeth kicked in.” She nodded against his chest, and he continued. “I like sensory deprivation, particularly being blindfolded or being bound to the bed so I can’t touch without permission. Blindfolds make all my other senses heightened.”

“Do you have any particular petnames you like to be called?” Imane looked back up, into his eyes with keen interest.

“Hmm...” He thought about it for a moment. “When I’m in dominant headspace, I like Master and sometimes Sir. Daddy’s not really my thing.” His hands traveled to her midback. “I don’t have any for when I’m submissive; I think I just like being degraded and praised when I’m there.”

She chewed her lip. “I like Goddess a lot, and ‘my lady’, sometimes Miss when I’m dominant.” She giggled when his hand found another ticklish spot, wriggling slightly. “When I’m submissive, I like Bunny and Darling. I’m not really interested in petplay, but Bunny gets me in a mood for some reason.”

“On my end, things seem to be very compatible with you.” He chuckled into her hair and gently cradled her to his chest. “I’m into sadomasochism, so temperature play, wax play, orgasm denial and paddles are all on the table. I also love nails marks and scratches on me, and bite marks on my partners. Not terribly fond of hickeys.”

She checked her fingernails; they were the perfect length and shape he liked. Almond and just long enough to get a modern French tip. “Orgasm denial for yourself too?” He nodded, and she grinned. “You’re really like a fairytale come to life for me, it sounds like. All of my previous partners had a big deal on leaving hickeys and I never saw the appeal. Can I see your teeth?”

Kassam smiled, opening his mouth to let her prod at his vampire teeth with their pointer finger. He had gotten composite bonds a year earlier, so all of them were in pristine shape. Not pearly white, but natural enough that they didn’t look like Veneers.

“Do you bite hard enough to draw blood sometimes?” He nodded again, and she wriggled with happiness, giggling. “Your canines make me excited; they’re so pointy.” She flashed a smile; he saw her composite bonds and a small jewel on their left canine. They also had pretty pointy teeth. “I don’t bite but I do like to nibble and lick.”

His joggers were still a bit tight, but the immediate rush of arousal was no longer there. He gently moved her down so she could rest her head against his chest, feeling a comfortable amount of warmth and pressure against him. “Nibbles are very much welcomed on me. Do you like spanking?”

Imane shook her head, pouting slightly. “I prefer paddles and whips, even belts, over spanking. The action doesn’t do anything for me, but if I’m in a submissive headspace with a dom that likes seeing me bent over their lap... sure. If it’s a negotiable, then I prefer not to get spanked.”

His left hand found its way to her jaw, gently rubbing along the bone structure. “You’re such a considerate sweetheart. Spanking hurts my hand.” He felt her lips turn upward and her body relax again.

“Are you vocal?” She looked up at him. “Not just with dirty talking, but moaning and whimpering?”

He nodded again, and her dimple appeared. “I have no shame in begging either. I don’t like dirty talking in languages that the other party doesn’t know, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue here.” His other hand found hers under the covers. “How do you feel about oral, both giving and receiving?”

Imane stayed quiet for a moment, her breathing slow and steady, before she pushed herself up on her hands so they could look at him, nose to nose.

“I know that I like giving, especially when I’m submissive, but...” She chewed her lip. “I’ve never had someone genuinely want to perform oral, and it felt like a chore for them, so I don’t know about how I feel about receiving. I won’t lie and say I haven’t fantasised about it though, a lot.” Her cheeks coloured peach. “Honestly, it’s one of the things I’ve been close to accepting that it’s never going to happen willingly so I’ve stopped asking.”

He frowned and gently stroked her cheek. “Baby, you know there are dominants and submissives that want to service and that’s what gets them off, right?”

She nodded, her lips still gleaming in the daylight, rosy from the blood flow of chewing. “I do, but sometimes it’s hard to get out of your own head. It’s just easier to tell myself that I don’t need something than there’s something wrong with what I want, or worse there’s something wrong with me and that’s why they don’t want to.”

Kassam sat up, his arms wrapping around their waist to stop them from losing balance, and he held her perfectly still against his chest. Their foreheads touched, and he felt her pulse quickening and her breasts lightly pressing on him. Warm and soft, and every time she breathed they rose and fell with the rhythm.

She was giddy.

There was almost an electric pull for him to kiss her right then and there, but he resisted. He instead gazed evenly into her eyes, letting their noses bump against each other, and he whispered, “Fantasising about something repeatedly means it’s most likely a non-negotiable, Nova. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

Imane gasped and blinked, her heart hammering in their chest. He could feel it thudding in almost perfect compound triple.

“I...” Her voice broke off, and she cleared her throat. Hazel eyes wavered before they returned his gaze. “Perhaps you're right about that."

Kassam chuckled and tucked a piece of her hair behind their ear, exposing the constellation of green sapphires, alexandrites and diamonds adorning the shell and lobe. "I'm rarely wrong about most things."

They stayed that way for a moment, neither of them looking away from each other's eyes. It wasn't everyday he met someone who didn't look away first, especially when they were this close.

"One more thing,” she whispered, dark lashes fluttering.

“Yes?”

“You said you’ve never heard me be so forward with anyone before.” She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Maybe you aren’t like anyone else before you. Casa Amor's been very kind to me.”

His tongue went numb, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek before pushing him back onto the bed to snuggle.

"Let's take that nap you said you were about to take, Sammi."

Chapter Text

He fixed the collar of his navy satin shirt and tucked the hem into his trousers; when the other Casa Lads weren’t paying attention and were preoccupied with sorting themselves out, he pulled the shirt away from his chest to admire the Arabic calligraphy written along his décolletage in Bonney’s blue surgical ink.

سيدي . Saint. Sir.

He might like to get called Saint when worshipping...

Kassam let the material fall back into place and slotted the three middle buttons closed to expose a little bit of skin on his lower torso.

“Sorry about waking you up from your nap earlier, mate.” Elijah was cleaning his glasses with microfibre, voice quiet enough to not alert the others. “You and Imane looked so cute.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ijah.” The model smiled at the nickname. “We were waking up anyway. You didn’t mention anything to anyone else, right?”

The Afro-Trinidadian shook his head and popped the glasses back on. “Nah, your business is your business. If you wanted everyone to know, you would’ve slept on the couch downstairs.”

They bumped fists and Kassam helped him tweeze some stray brow hairs, keeping his head still with a firm hand on the chin. Elijah’s stubble was quite prickly but still very comfortable to the touch.

“Alright, boys?” Arjun sauntered over, buttoning up his green dress shirt. “Looking stunning this evening, both of you.”

The Punjabi promptly got pulled down for a cheeky kiss, Kassam’s hand still where it was on the oldest's chin. They pulled away, beaming at each other, and turned back to look at the third wheel.

The Algerian’s brow raised and he smiled, patting Elijah’s cheek before letting go and setting down the set of tweezers. “You two look peng together.”

“Blessings from another bisexual is always a good sign.” Arjun sent him a friendly wink. “Quite ironic how all the bi boys of Casa Amor fancied Imane from the telly, eh?”

Kassam spritzed cologne behind his ears. “We share the same great taste in women, clearly.” The bottle of Tobacco Vanille went back into his vanity drawer, and he clasped the Rose Des Vents bracelet on his right wrist. The tiger's eye charm rested perfectly on a pressure point.

Graham’s loud voice hollered from downstairs. “Guys, we’ve got visitors!”

The trio looked at each other before heading to the gardens together, which was transformed back into the evening party setting–this time with garden lanterns and proper landscape light posts–and there was Tim and his girlfriend Jen standing where the beach chairs used to be, next to what looked like a giant bingo ball cage and a large bingo sheet filled with numbers.

Tim grinned at him and winked. “Papi’s looking right tonight, aye?”

Imane, who was chatting to Jen, turned to look at him; her eyes quickly scanned his outfit and she chewed her lip when she saw the window of skin he left out between his navel and his V-line.

Kassam saw the embellished lace corset they were wearing, innocently tucked into a cute pair of white jeans, and knew she had chosen it for a reason. The cinching made her cleavage delectable to look at, and it made the S-line of her body even more obvious. A pair of white Ralph and Russo Eden pumps adorned her feet, making her tower over Jen–even though the blonde was wearing the taller shoe.

He desperately wanted to get stepped on with those heels.

Tim cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. “What’s up, Casa Amor? Jen and I were asked as the winners of 2017’s Love Island to be the poster children of Social Bingo. Take a seat right here.” He gestured to the large C-shaped couch in front of the pool.

Lottie laughed as she took a seat on one side of Imane, Priya taking the other. Kassam sat next to Carl.

“Why would they put the winners of Love Island 2017 on Casa Amor and not the main villa?”

Jen smiled and glanced over at Kassam before letting her gaze wander. “I say it’s because–”

“Shh!” Her boyfriend covered her mouth. “Don’t spoil it, honey!” He coughed and turned back toward the seated Islanders. “Anyway, if anyone’s familiar with the show they should know what Social Bingo is: The producers selected Tweets that mentions a particular Islander or two and set one behind each number on the board behind us. Jen and I are going to spin the cage, and whichever ball gets spat out corresponds with a number on the board. Each correct Islander guessed is one point to your score, and the Islander who gets the most points has a special privilege that might come in handy later. Here are all of your whiteboards and markers.”

He caught the black dry erase marker Tim tossed in the air toward him easily, and caught the next one that was sent sailing toward Carl. His hand offered the spare to the older, and Carl shot him a grateful smile.

There wasn’t much interesting with the Tweets that allowed him to think heavily about. For the first half of the game, the second the Tweet was read out loud he knew the answer; Lottie and Imane becoming best of friends was like two worlds colliding in the best way possible, Carl looked like Spock from Star Trek, Chelsea asking what country bordered Madrid was her blonde girl moment, Priya rapping “Money” by Cardi B in the bedroom was the best main villa bit in Love Island history, Arjun’s lashes looked like they were fully extensions but God definitely plays favourites. Marisol was faker than she presents (she shot him a dirty look but he ignored her), Graham looked like he has a size kink...

He and Imane were going neck and neck for first place.

Tim spun the cage and retrieved the 15 ball; he ripped off the 15 sticker from the cardboard slab on the board, and the Tweet read: “omg _____ is really blossoming in casa de amor, I’m so happy for her!”

Immediately, he wrote down Imane’s name and turned his whiteboard with the other Islanders; only him and Lottie wrote their name (she had drawn a small heart next to the name and a smiley face), and the rest of them wrote down Marisol.

Jen took down the Tweet to reveal Imane as the correct answer; the girl smiled softly and shrugged when all the other Islanders looked at her questioningly.

“I think I just needed a change of scenery.”

Their legs crossed and her shoes glinted in the light.

The game continued on, Imane trailing behind him by one point because of that question. They both answered correctly on Chelsea having the right personality to be an air hostess, Carl and Hope being the best platonic CA couple, Kassam looking the most like a cold hearted bad boy but actually being a real sweetheart, Arjun and Priya dancing like they were in a Bollywood scene was too much for a bisexual heart, and finally Marisol and Graham probably making the cutest babies.

His phone beeped and he pulled it out to read the message to himself.

Congratulations Kassam on winning Social Bingo. After the party is over, you have the ability to ask one partner out on a date at the swing bed behind the rose wall. We will have some munches and drinks ready for you then. The next time you get a text, we will unlock one phone call ability and you may choose from the 11 other Islanders’ contacts to dial. You will only have 5 minutes before the call option is voided, and the Islander is able to reject your offer of a date.

He smiled and pocketed his phone again. “I mean we’ll see what happens.”

The other Islanders groaned at the ambiguity, but all of them got up to disperse and enjoy their night. Imane held back to talk to Jen again, and Kassam headed to Tim.

“You’re still as observant as ever, papi.” Tim playfully smacked his bum. “Congrats on winning.”

He helped wheel the bingo board to the glass wall overlooking the Spanish hills. “It’s much different from our uni shenanigans playing beer pong bingo, but the competitiveness doesn’t go away apparently with age for me. I just consume better alcohol now.”

”Hah, don’t insult a good beer like that. In order to have a classy DJ like you drinking whiskey neats, there had to be a beach boy DJ like me shotgunning cans.” The Latino bumped his fist against Kassam’s shoulder. “I’ve been doing good with sobriety as of right now though. Jen’s been a good influence. Haven’t taken a sip of alcohol or smoked since I started dating her in the villa.”

The Algerian chuckled and looked over at the blonde, who was animatedly talking about something with Imane. “You can always give credit to people you surround yourself with, but Jen’s not the sole reason you wanted to be sober.”

“God, sometimes your intuition needs to get knocked up the head or something, mate.” Tim sighed, leaning against the cold metal rail. “I mean apart from just wanting to pack up my act and grow up, seeing Lucy use the drinking excuse to cheat on you really did me in, ‘specially since I was at the same party as her when she did it. When she came as our last Bombshell, I literally wanted to win the season out of spite to make you proud. That, and I was dealing with withdrawal so I was extra bitchy.”

Kassam smiled. “I keyed Yvonne’s car and slashed her tires for you back in the day and you pied off my ex on national telly. Seems like an even trade, sure.”

”Oh, for a friend like you? We’ve practically grown old together, and without you I probably wouldn’t even be here. You literally saved my life with your music, and then I got the pleasure to meet you in person and be your uni flatmate so you could take care of me when I was sloshed out of my mind and bawling my eyes out about girls? We're essentially closer than blood brothers, really.” His middle finger and thumb rolled together, reminiscent of how he used to hold a cigarette. “Come on, mate. Humiliating your ex and winning Love Island with a girlfriend at the end was the least I could’ve done. Hell, we even got Rohan as a new mutual friend.”

The taller DJ pulled the other in for a hug, gently patting his back. “Fate’s got a weird way of working, mate.” He left his arm resting against Tim’s shoulder. “If I hadn’t dated Lucy, I wouldn’t have met Imane. If I hadn’t lost Rayan, I wouldn’t have started doing music or be where I’m at now. The butterfly effect’s a strange thing.”

Tim nodded, smiling when Jen looked over at him. “Speaking of Imane though…” He paused when the aforementioned turned their head to look in their direction. “She’s sometimes scarier than Lottie, god damn. Serves me right for saying her name, I guess.” He laughed and held both of their mics in his fists to muffle what it could pick up, leaning closer to murmur. “Jen and I were called to Casa Amor because there are ripples from both the producers and the public that this villa has the most potential of the ultimate power couple. No doubt they’re talking about you two. I’m only telling you this because I know you’re not about to change your approach with new information, the stubborn mule of a man you are. Consider our appearance tonight as a sign from the universe. Win.”

And with that, Tim let go of the mics and clapped him on the back. “We’re definitely doing a gig together after you’re out of here, mate! I’ll see you around!” He smiled and jogged off toward Jen, linking arms with her and walking back toward the party to say goodbye to everyone.

Imane strutted over, heels clicking on the pavement, and stopped in front of him. “Hi, stranger. Would you like a drink?”

”Sure.” He gently pulled her in for an embrace, breathing in the same intoxicating fragrance she always wore, and walked with them to the open bar. “What were you talking about with Jen?”

“One whiskey, neat, and one pineapple rum old-fashioned, please.” she said to the bartender before turning to him. “She was asking about the shops I buy clothes at and if I would be open to modelling new items in her store.” Their eyes twinkled. “I might have asked if you and Tim were close, out of curiosity.”

The bartender came back over with a quilted glass cup a third filled with Scotch whiskey. Imane offered it to him, and he raised an eyebrow.

“How do you know my taste in alcohol?”

She smiled. “You’re not the only observant one here. I saw you drinking it yesterday night.”

Kassam’s lips puckered, impressed. “Fair enough.” He took the glass from her. “And what did she say?”

“She said you two were university flatmates and classmates, since he was a communications student who did understudies in writing.” Imane took the old-fashioned from the bartender. “And something about how he pied off your ex on national television.”

He chuckled and clinked glasses with her; the note that rang was clean and crisp. “I taught him music theory and also how to DJ too. It took him a few weeks to stop idolising me like a puppy, just because he was listening to my stuff way before uni, but we’ve been close friends since. He’s seen me in my worst days, vice versa.”

They nodded and took a sip of her drink. “Who’s your ex that he pied?”

“Lucy Davies. She was the last Bombshell of his season of Love Island.” Kassam swirled the whiskey with a twist of the wrist. “I got cheated on and then dumped so she could go on the show. Found out about the cheating when I was doing a gig in Berlin a month after it happened, and Tim pieced together who she cheated on me with because he was at the party when it happened. Decided to hurl an actual pie at her so hard she got a nosebleed. The guy she coupled up with in his season, Rohan, hit me up after the news got out and we're chill mates now.”

”So that’s the baggage you told me about…” Her mouth twisted and they reached out to touch his fingers. “That’s awful for anyone to experience, I’m sorry.”

”It’s alright, she’s not even in the picture anymore. It’s one of my lines in the sand; I just won’t accept a cheater back no matter how many times they try to DM me.” He sipped a little more whiskey. “Have you ever been cheated on?”

She nodded, toying with his fingers and taking a sip of her own drink. “Yeah, I have. He was actually my last relationship before I came to Mallorca. We broke up because I walked in on him on the couch with someone else.” A humourless laugh came from her lips. “It was a great 25th birthday, that's for sure.”

Kassam shook his head in disappointment. “What a fucking wasteman. What’s his name?”

Hazel eyes glanced around, seeing who was near and possibly lip reading. “Let’s move over to the pool and I’ll tell you.”

Marisol was close by, Graham nowhere in sight.

They got up and walked to the marble tiling; the pool was being lit by underwater purple LED panels, and Imane took off her heels so she could dip her toes in the water. They were painted a light cream, with a small diamond decal on the second nail of each foot.

Kassam opted to sit with his knees up.

“The ex who cheated on me’s name was Lucas.” Her voice was quiet. “It’s a fairly common name, I suppose... but there were certain qualities in the villa Lucas that reminded me of my ex, down to the ethnicity and everything.”

He watched her take another sip of the old-fashioned. “In a good or bad way?”

“Both good and bad.” Imane’s hand moved slightly so it was on top of his. “In a sense, I think meeting someone that resembled an ex that closely just reinforced what qualities I like in a partner and why things would have been bound to go south, cheating aside. Lucas was a nice guy, but there was always something off.”

Kassam hummed and turned his palm up so their fingers could clasp together. “No regrets on seeing him go and Henrik stay?”

“No, things happen for a reason. I get along with Henrik just fine as friends, and it’s nice to have a guy who will tell it to me like it is instead of saying something I want to hear.”

Their eyes met, and she gave him a dimpled smile.

“I found what I was looking for back then, and now I’ve maybe come to realise that sometimes what I really need in life doesn’t need to be looked for. I stumble on it when I try to escape.”

He blinked, the words rolling back and forth in his mind. There was something musical in quality about what she said.

“Do you sing, by any chance?”

“I’m not extraordinarily talented at it, but I do casually.” Her foot dipped into the water up to their ankle. “All the children I work with at the clinic seem to love when I sing, and sometimes Bobby, Hope and I would sing together. Why?”

Was she the woman singing with Hope the other day?

He finished up his drink, feeling the familiar warmth pooling in his stomach. “We should make some music together one day. I think you’d match me very well; those words sounded almost magical.”

She blushed and hid her face against his arm. “You’re making me shy, Sammi... but I’d like that.”

They sat in silence, listening to the water ripple and the chattering of the other Islanders faintly in the distance. One of the stars in the sky, which he recognised as part of Cassiopeia, seemed to wink at him.

He got a second text at that instance.

Kassam, please ring the Islander you’d like to take on a date. Remember that you only 5 minutes; the swing bed will be fully prepared in 15 minutes if they say yes.

“Nova, do you mind grabbing my water bottle from the kitchen? Bring your phone with you.”

The second part of what he said seemed to confuse her, but Imane surely got up, dried her feet on the beach towel next to them and went into the house. The other Islanders had just went inside; the communal bedroom light was turned on.

Kassam swiped up from the bottom of his screen to return to the home page, tapping the Phone icon that used to hold nothing except Personal Welfare, his Junior Producer and his PR link’s contact information.

There were now 11 new contacts, each with a profile picture and their name.

Imane’s was her sitting in a coffee shop, resting their chin against her hand, dressed in a leather jacket and a blush pink bustier. He tapped their contact and saw the number. Right after the area code, there was 555 followed by a 4.

And he clicked the Call button and waited, holding up the phone to his ear and heard it ringing.

On the fifth ring, she picked up.

“I can’t find your water bottle, Sammi... Are you sure you left it in the kitchen?”

He laughed and got up from the poolside, making his way back to the bar to hand back his empty glass. “No, actually. I just wanted you far away enough so I could call you without hearing feedback. My bottle’s upstairs next to the daybed.”

“Oh. How are you even able to call me?”

“Special privileges for winning the game tonight. I wanted to ring you to ask you something.” He smoothed out his shirt, waiting for a response.

Her voice quieted. “Yes?”

“Would you like to have a date with me, Imane?” He felt his heart thump loudly.

There was a pause. “Right now?”

“Give or take 15 minutes, yes.”

Another pause. He could almost hear her chewing their lip.

“... I’d love to. Yes, absolutely yes.” Their voice was full of soft joy. “Where would I meet you?”

“Behind the rose wall in the garden. Dress code’s library first date, so dress comfortably.” He twisted the hamsa charm around his neck.

She giggled. “Okay, I can do that. Is the dress code your preference or was it assigned?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see another facet of you I’ve never seen before.”

There was a gasp from the other end before a small laugh. “Sure thing, Saint. I’ll see you in a little bit.” She hung up on him.

He watched a shadow dart upstairs and waited a moment before entering the villa to change. Arjun was still in the communal men’s dressing room, sorting out his pyjamas.

“What did you do to make a lady so happy that she was running down the hallway?” The Punjabi grinned at him from the mirror as he pulled off his shirt.

Kassam rustled through his loungewear drawer and pulled out a black blue cotton hoodie. “I asked her out on a date.”

Arjun’s jaw dropped. “Shut up. Holy shit.” He cleared his throat and coughed. “I better leave you to sort yourself then. You two have fun.”

“Thanks, mate. Keep it on the down low; I’ll probably tell some details tomorrow.” He tugged the hoodie over his head and felt the sleeves hug his arms.

“Oh, for sure. I don’t dish out goss like that, but I’m looking forward to hearing about it if you want me to know.” And the door closed behind the other man, leaving Kassam alone.

He switched his black trousers for a pair of light grey French terry jeans and slipped into his Comme des Garçons trainers.

It was amazing how instantaneously he looked like his old self, just with more muscle and less anger in his eyes.

Kassam grabbed the spray bottle from the side of his vanity to lightly spritz his hair with water and tousle it into a less put-together style (Tim affectionately called it the post-sex hair, or the post-study hair if he pulled an all-nighter at the library); he left the strands that curled against his forehead.

His prescription glasses sat in their case in his drawer.

Contacts or glasses...

His vision was bad enough as it was that wearing his full strength glasses would do the trick, and he could opt to pop in his overnight contacts after the date.

Besides, Imane did say that he looked hot in glasses. He put them on, clear square frames fitted with -1.25 power lenses, and he glanced in the mirror to see a 20-year old him with kinder eyes lined with kohl and a firmer jaw.

He looked more tired and hardened by life, but still boyish. He understood why Carl thought he was way younger.

Kassam stood up and went back downstairs.

The swing bed behind the flower wall was lit up with faery lights climbing up the posts like vines, and there were silk curtain drapes alongside a mosquito net to keep the bugs out. There were two small wooden bowls fitted with what looked like açai frozen yoghourt, dragonfruit, blueberries, bananas and oats garnish, with a bottle of Genever stuck in a bucket of ice, on the garden table. There was a small cocktail tray with sour mix and other mix-ins, with a pair of lowball glasses.

It was well cute.

He moved aside the mosquito net and ducked into the date space, spotting a black AUX cable peeking its head out from behind a throw pillow.

Was he allowed to play music?

He slotted the cable into the headphone jack port and unlocked his phone to see the Spotify app downloaded and waiting on his homescreen. The login screen loaded into his account, and he scrolled to find his R&B playlist; surely enough when he hit Shuffle, the music started playing softly from the hidden speakers in front of him.

Kassam sat down on the swing bed, and propped a knee up just as a shadow moved from the corner of his eye. He looked over.

Imane entered through the net, dressed in a soft green crop top that had a sweetheart neckline and dark grey joggers. She was wearing her round glasses and chunky multi-white trainers, and her hair was up in a messy bun.

Girlfriend aesthetic.

“Hi,” she said shyly and sat down next to him. “You look like you’d definitely be one of my library crushes.”

He smiled, feeling heat rush up his neck. “I don’t know if I could get any revisions done if you were sitting next to me. You look good.”

Imane gave him a kiss on the cheek and giggled when she got pulled closer on the bed. “This isn’t too shabby for a first date, honestly.” Their eyes lit up when she saw the bowls. “Oh, these are my favourite to eat...”

“We have something in common. You can start eating and I’ll fix us a drink if you want.” Kassam pressed a kiss to her temple and waited.

She bit her lip and chewed, staring at the alcohol and the cocktail tray. “Gin makes me..." They perched the heel of her trainer against the swing bed. "It’s an aphrodisiac for me. I don’t know if that’s something you’re up for on a first date.”

“Hmm.” He gazed into their eyes, softly thumbing underneath their jaw. “What if we shared a drink? I’ll make you my favourite gin cocktail and you can just take little sips of it.”

The blush appeared, and Imane thought about it before nodding. “I’d like that. You wouldn’t mind if we made out...?”

Kassam chuckled and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re so cute, babes. If it happens, it happens; if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t be upset either.” He got up and grabbed the shaker from the tray. “You’re the first person who’s ever asked if I would be okay to kiss on the first date. I really appreciate it.”

“I know it gets awkward really fast if someone’s not comfortable enough and you go in for it, so it never hurts to know where someone’s head is at.” She took the bowl in front of them and started eating. “What is your flavour profile for food?”

His hands expertly muddled a few mint sprigs and measured out 3 shots worth of Genever in the shaker. “I’m a big fan of spices and umami. I do really well with sour too, especially when I want to concentrate. I’ll just pop in a sour candy while making remixes or original sounds, and I’ll be sitting there for two hours straight without budging.” He popped the cork back in with his thumb before moving onto the ginger bitters. “Though I have a sweet tooth for Algerian desserts, particularly mkhabez, baklawa and harissa. How about you?”

“Mm, I also really like spicy and earthy foods. Apart from fruits and the like, I do enjoy baking things or making sweets for other people, and I do know how to make a few mean West Asian and North African desserts.” Her lips upturned. “Cooking for someone is one of the ways I express affection.”

“What’s your favourite fruit?” Kassam made quick work with the bitters and moved on to the sour mix. “Mine is blueberry.”

She hummed and took another bite of her açai bowl. “I really like dragonfruit, peach and jujube. Do you want my blueberries?”

“Only if you take the dragonfruit in my bowl.” He scooped ice from the ice maker on the ground and smacked the top of the shaker back on.

“Are you serious?” Their eyes lit up, and he nodded while mixing. “That’s well sweet of you, Sammi. How are you so good at bartending?”

“Back before I was established, the only way to get your foot in the door for any of the well-known clubs was to be a bartender who so happened to know how to be a disc jockey if there was a last minute cancellation.” He grinned and popped the strainer top off with his thumb to pour the liquid into the iced glass. “It helped me build some thick skin and learn how to project my voice.” He took another sprig of mint and spanked it against his palm before dropping it into the cup.

His hand held out the drink. “A Ginger Southside, made by yours truly.”

Imane accepted it, balancing the bowl on her thighs, and took a careful sip. “Mmm, this is very good. I like the added kick of the ginger.” They took another sip before handing the glass back to him. “You’re very impressive.”

He sat back down, the bed swaying with his weight, and took the other bowl from the table; it was still cold due to it being near the ice bucket. “Hah, that’s questionable but I’ll take it, coming from you.” His spoon quickly made work of the dragonfruit cluster on top of his frozen yoghourt, transferring them over to hers.

With one cube left, he offered it to their lips.

She opened her mouth and ate it, eyes twinkling. “Have a little bit of an oral fixation, Mister Hassein? I’ve seen you staring a few times.”

“Most of the time, no.” Kassam chuckled when she did the same to him with two blueberries, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “You have a nice lip shape is all.”

Imane delivered all of her share of blueberries to him and tucked in to the rest of her açai bowl, happily munching away and listening to the background music; she hadn’t responded to his compliment, but her cheeks were flushed slightly. That told him all he needed to know.

As she finished the last bite of frozen yoghourt, they turned her head to listen closely to something.

“Is that... you singing, Sammi?”

He nodded and swallowed a spoonful of blueberry and banana. “Does it sound like me?”

“Don’t be shy, it’s just you and me in the room,” his voice crooned. “Come closer, you know I see your body bothered / Don’t think baby, you’re the only one for me tonight / Your glass is empty; let me fill it with our water.”

“Your voice's so smooth to listen to.” Imane put down her bowl on the table and shifted their legs up onto the bed, looking at him. “Very buttery.”

Kassam shrugged and smiled, taking a swig of the Southside. “I promise not all of the songs in this playlist are mine.”

“Oh baby now, let’s do it now / You’re so sexy just like this, oh baby come to me / Oh baby, come to me, drive me crazy with your lips / A little more, I feel you reaching the end / Oh baby, let’s go again...”

Her lips were pressing together slightly, and as she was listening to the lyrics her tongue subconsciously flicked out to wet them. They were peachy and rosy, glistening in the light, full and plush.

“Well, this song definitely seems intentionally queued...” He sighed and raised his hands up next to his head. “I swear this playlist is on shuffle.”

Kassam took another sip of his drink, feeling the cup getting taken out of his grip. He watched as Imane placed it on the table next to their dirty bowls, and just as he was about to ask if something was wrong, she had straddled him–hands in his hair–and leaned in.

Their lips met, and she tasted like white peach and dragonfruit and ginger. The kiss sent an electric shock through his body, and his hands found her waist and the back of her head. Her lips were so warm and full, and they fit so well against his.

Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he moaned.

Fuck...

Imane pulled away just enough to look him in the eye, both of them out of breath, and it didn’t take long for a second kiss to initiate.

He nipped her lower lip, feeling her body melt against him as the song changed. The bass made the bed thrum underneath them, and he broke away to kiss their jaw and her throat.

“I know you know what I want though / Show me, if you think you know me / I want you to have control, take me out of the comfort zone...”

She let out a soft moan at A6 when his teeth found a sensitive spot on her neck, and it ignited the warmth in his lower abdomen. He didn’t bite down hard, just enough for them to feel pressure, and gave the spot a cluster of kisses; her hands tilted his head up, and their lips met again.

"You can take your time, I ain't going nowhere / I'll get the smoke ready, you already know baby..."

“It feels like you’re my tutor that I have a crush on who’s trying to seduce me,” he murmured against her mouth and felt her vampire teeth against his lip as she smiled.

“Just trying?” She giggled and took off her glasses, trailing one of its legs down the side of his neck. He shivered at the sensation. “Is it not working?”

Kassam kissed her again, licking their top lip to get the taste of her lip oil before pressing butterfly kisses down to their chest. “Oh, it’s working. You’re so pretty...”

"I've been on your FaceTime, now it's no phones / Been making you wait too long, I know / When you pull up, I'm gonna be on the bed / Waiting for your call, waiting for your call..."

His mouth found her shoulder tattooed with the ouroboros, and she moved the straps away; the smallest hint of soft brown peeked out on her breast, and he looked up for permission to pull the shirt down even further.

Imane moved slightly, and the shirt slipped just enough to reveal their perky nipples–both complete with gold jewelled heart rings.

“Pute.” He stared at them, feeling the fire in his belly grow. His thumbs traced up from their stomach to the piercings. “Fuck, how come I didn’t feel these when we were taking a nap?”

She smiled and guided his hands so their nipples slotted between the pointer and middle finger of each hand; a purr came from her throat when he squeezed. “I wear retainers during the day and to bed if I’m not spending the night with someone. Surprised?”

“More horny than surprised, if I’m being honest.” He pressed kisses to each nipple, feeling the cold rhinestones against his mouth coupled with the warmth of her skin. It made his dick twitch. “Schoolboy me would’ve creamed his pants by now.”

“Well that’s good, because I’ve had these since I was 20.” Her hand trailed up his thigh and underneath his hoodie. “I could have been your maths tutor with these pretty things in.”

Kassam let them pull the piece of clothing off of him and grunted when her fingernails clawed down his arms, feeling tingles crawl up his spine. “I always had the fantasy of getting fucked in a classroom... Didn’t know why until now.”

She chuckled and whispered, “Smooth talker. Keep the glasses on,” before sitting fully onto his crotch and kissing him again.

"My head, my God, my feelings / Come give my body some meaning / There's no better place than with me tonight / I need you to set me up..."

They slowly moved against each other, feeling the beat of each song that played; he bit down and marked her underbreast, and she let out a gasp and a whimper, clutching at his head as he kissed the gold crescent moon and rose decorating her belly button and soft skin of her stomach. He pulled back and admired his handiwork, feeling something pulse against his dick like a heartbeat.

Her lips were slightly fuller than before, flushed red from making out, and no longer shiny with lip oil. Still, she pulled him in for another go. They moaned together, and she scratched down along his back with enough strength that he knew tomorrow morning there would be nail tracks on his skin.

"Give you complete submission / Come put me in position / No, tell your girls you're with me tonight 'cause I need you to set me up..."

Imane pressed one last kiss against his Adam’s apple and pulled away, her hand resting against his crotch as she put her glasses back on. “Do you want me to... help you with this? I don't mind.”

He shook his head, smiling and chewing his lip. The taste of dragonfruit and ginger really was cementing in his mind as one of the top-notch flavour combinations. “I can fall asleep hard and wake up fine the next morning. Meditation helps in that way for me.”

Her fingers found the outline of the shaft and softly felt it out, stopping when they touched something small and hard laying right underneath the tip. Her cheeks flushed, finding the second stud a few millimetres up, and she moved her hand. “Is that a King’s crown?”

“You know your piercings.” He pressed a kiss against her nose, chuckling. “Couldn’t be named Royalty and not have one. I just asked for a barbell instead of the usual ring.”

She giggled, the blush intensifying. “I really like the look of that one in particular, and the Frenum...” She adjusted her top again, making sure she wasn’t exposed, before cuddling up to him. Her nipple piercing pressed against his side. “You’re getting extra marks from me, that’s for sure.”

He gave her another kiss on the lips, this one soft and sweet. “My size suits you well, I reckon?”

Imane nodded and snuggled her cheek into his chest, her legs curled up to the side. “You’re in my ballpark.” Her thumb and middle finger measured out roughly 5 inches then extended just short of 7. He was somewhere around 6 and a half. “I don’t like penetration to hurt or feel like my internal organs are being rearranged. The others can like what they like but I’m comfortable here.”

“Glad to hear.” Kassam grinned and rubbed her hip. “Do you need help with anything before we call it a night?”

She thought about it for a moment before shaking their head. “I’m happy to fall asleep after having a good time with you.” She reached down and held his hand, hazel eyes twinkling underneath the faery lights. “I meant what I said earlier, about you being something potentially special so I don’t want to take things too fast.” Her lips curved upward, and the dimple was back.

“Likewise.” He touched foreheads with them. “It’s been a long two years, Nova.”

She embraced him, kissing his chest and giving his side a small thumb rub. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you cook or bake on your own?” Hazel eyes twinkled up at him. "I know you helped Arjun with lunch, but is that a one-off?"

He chuckled. “I cook and bake frequently. Why?”

“Hmm...” Imane hummed against his chest. “Can I test drive your skills tomorrow and have you make falafel and kimchi tzaziki for me as a lunch?”

“You’re going to need to help me for the kimchi tzaziki because I'm not the quarter Korean here, but,” Kassam kissed her on the cheek and got up. “If you let me sneak two bites, of course.”

She smiled. “You remembered...”

He offered his hand and Imane took it. “You’re kind of hard to forget, love. Who do you take me for?”

Chapter Text

“Not taking your shirt off today, brother?” Arjun grinned at him over the barbell while doing bench presses. Graham was doing rope climbs 4 arms’ lengths away.

Kassam shook his head, smiling and grabbing the 210 off of the other. “I don’t take my shirt off all the time, you know. For very intensive days I keep it on so I don’t get sweat all on the bench.”

That was true, but he did wake up with nail tracks; when he looked in the mirror they resembled angel wings.

It might look nice if he got a wing tattooed on his right side, now that he thought about it.

“Alrighty, whatever you say. Keep your pecs to yourself for once so the girls aren’t ogling you.” There was something mischievous in the Punjabi’s eyes as he retook the barbell. “Imane looked very chuffed this morning when I saw her.”

“We had a nice date. I offered the daybed to her and took the sofa for the night.” He aligned Arjun’s arms to keep his shoulders from locking and gestured for him to start his set.

Graham did a fireman drop and dusted off his hands. “Captain, you two are playing the longest game of chess I’ve ever seen. You’re waiting it out like a champ.”

“We have chemistry, that’s for certain.” Kassam shouldered the weight and switched onto the bench. “Graham, do you have it in you to spot a 280?”

The fisherman gave him an incredulous look and snorted. “’Course, sailor. Who do you take me for? Next you’re gonna tell me you can wait out a fully without cranking one out if I suddenly can’t do that for you.”

He easily lifted the 210 barbell from its rack and started repping his usual 15. “I unfortunately can do that, mate. I’ll settle for 260 then.”

Arjun spat out his water, coughing and laughing. “Oh my god, can you at least wait when I’m not drinking to throw out banter like that!”

“Sorry,” Kassam hummed and glanced at Graham, who was staring at him with his mouth open. He smirked. “So you can’t spot 280?”

The fisherman turned slightly red in the face before mumbling, “You’re either the biggest masochist I’ve ever met or the most disciplined man ever... I’ll spot the 260, Captain.”

The girls were doing a quick workout when he made his way into the kitchen to make lunch. Imane had pre-soaked the chickpeas necessary for falafel in a glass bowl put in the fridge with a kitchen towel covering it. He grabbed it with the tub of kimchi and started pulling spices from the countertop rack.

As he ducked to find the garlic bulbs in the island cupboard, he heard someone walk in. Kassam didn’t look up until he found the small basket of garlic sitting at the back shelf; he pulled it out and came face to face with Marisol who was examining him with careful eyes.

“What can I do for you?” He took off the towel and folded it over his shoulder, turning his back to drain the chickpeas in the sink.

The blonde didn’t say much for a moment, and he didn’t do anything to fill the silence.

Her voice came out quiet. “Have you asked her if she’d bring you back to the villa yet?”

“No.” Kassam used the towel to dry off the peas and turned back around, popping the cutting board from the counter onto the island surface too. “It’s not going to make a difference in whether or not Imane decides to take me back if I bring it up. I don’t feel the need to either.”

Marisol sat down on a stool. “Are you that confident that she will? That’s bold.”

He shook his head and took out a fork to start mashing the legumes. “It’s not my call to make, so pushing isn’t going to do much. I’d rather let her organically feel things out.”

“Hmm. She hasn’t said much about you, and from what Graham told me you haven’t said much about her. I guess whether she’s choosing to stay loyal to Henrik as a friend is up in the air. There’s a 30% chance of you getting back in there.”

“Okay.” He felt that the silence that ensued afterward was that of indignation, but he kept at his own business peeling garlic.

“You don’t seem to be that bothered by it. Why?”

Kassam pulled out the Santoku knife from the knife set and started smashing garlic cloves on the cutting board with an easy twist of the wrist. “Putting more emphasis on reading people’s body language instead of being present in the moment with them is a thing you do. Grilling me on how you think a Bombshell should be acting isn’t getting to know who I am, you know. Imane’s her own person and they can keep her thoughts about me to herself all they want; I don’t care.”

“Excuse me?” Marisol gasped and frowned. “I just wanted to warn you that getting your hopes up in Casa Amor on being with Imane isn’t doing you good once you’re back into the main villa. I’ve literally seen how half the guys in there look at her.”

“Mmm. You sound jealous.” He casually started dicing garlic, hearing the sharp breath in the other took. “I get you’re upset Henrik shut your advances down, but that’s got nothing to do with Imane. Taking out the pain of rejection on someone who isn’t the person that rejected you is a bit low.” With one clean sweep, he picked up the diced vegetable and put them into the bowl. “And I hate to break it to you, but you’re not going to be able to read me; my body language’s not European in the slightest. You’re going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying, yeah?”

He heard her stalk off seconds later after he stopped talking, and smiled to himself.

Kassam hummed under his breath, eyeballing the amount of cumin, cayenne and coriander he put in. It was muscle memory for him, and it didn’t take too much brain power to sort out the falafel mixture.

“[My eyes, one day you’ll find someone that will appreciate this labour of love; cooking isn’t just a skill for you in life to feed the stomach. It’s teaching you to be patient with yourself, or you will cut yourself. I hope you find someone who you will make many tender memories with, making things together.]” His mum’s soothing voice rang in his mind as he chopped fresh parsley, dill and onion. It was something she told him when he was a kid, when he made a big fuss when being taught how to cook and hold different knives; only when he went to university and started living on his own did he realise how invaluable the lesson was.

His exes always used to fight with him in the kitchen, whether it was when he was doing the wash or preparing food. It always gave him pulsing migraines to deal with, since the kitchen usually was his place of peace and quiet; he relished in the bachelor lifestyle just for the calm nights where he could cook alone or for his friends, or for family, when they came over. If things were bad enough, he would need to move out of his flat because he couldn’t deal with the feeling of anxiety every time he stepped foot into the place he used to consider a safe haven for him to be fully himself.

He patiently worked in the herbs and vegetables with his hand, still humming under his breath, and rinsed it clean before opening the fridge to pull out cucumbers and Greek yoghourt for the tzaziki.

Someone walked into the kitchen.

When he shut the fridge door, Imane was standing there dressed in a black sports bra and Psycho Bunny joggers smiling at him. There was a soft sheen of sweat on her as she pulled on her heather grey sweatshirt, and the gold jewelled sun and star against their belly button gleamed in the light.

“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?”

Kassam smiled back. “Not at all. You look nice sweaty.”

“You’re sweet.” She stuck out their tongue and walked over to the cupboard to pull out a small dish. “The song you were humming sounds familiar, by the way.”

He pressed a kiss against her cheek, and she giggled when he licked the spot to taste the salt on her skin. “With the overlap in our favourite music genres, I can't say I'm surprised."

Imane grabbed a pair of chopsticks and another chopping board, picking out the leafier kimchi bits. “A techno DJ with the most colourful listening history I've ever heard, who loves and composes and produces R&B in his spare time? You’re a strange one.”

“It’s one of my less interesting quirks, for sure.” He washed the cucumbers in the sink and dried them with the towel. “What would you like me to do for the tzaziki?”

“I can take care of it; you should focus on the falafel.” She pulled the chef knife out of the set and easily started slicing the kimchi into small squares. “I love tzaziki as it is but this is what I will always eat over the regular. I’ve made it so many times that it’s second nature.”

“Yes, chef.” Kassam chuckled and put the ingredients next to them, pulling out a plate to place the falafel once he shaped them.

There was comfortable silence as both of them worked, him still humming the same song; it was a track Tim helped make for an up and coming artist.

“For days, hmm...” A soft voice at Dmin5 sang quietly. “I’ve waited so patiently / you know it’s been a while / My soul’s hungry for you...”

It sounded like an angel's, pink and green floating in his peripherals.

So it was her who was singing with Hope.

He stopped rolling a small spoonful of falafel in between his hands, and looked up to see Imane deseeding a cucumber. She didn’t seem to notice him looking, and her lips parted again to keep singing.

“So, what do you say?... I’m telling you honestly / I want you all the time...”

“I love to hear that you’re mine,” he softly joined in, crooning in Fm3. They started, glancing up with wide eyes, and he smiled. “Wanna give myself to you / but promise me you’ll stay?” His voice was huskier just because he didn’t drink honeyed tea beforehand, but he thought the tone to be charming.

She blushed and continued shaving the cucumber length-wise with a paring knife. “Don’t wanna be here on my own / you know it’s driving me insane...”

“For days, mmm... Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Kassam kept rolling the falafel, placing one after the other on the plate. “And all of the things that I would do / if you want, I can show you.”

There was a pause, another soft silence between them. Imane used her chopsticks to evenly mix the tzaziki with the kimchi and cucumber shreds.

He smirked and finished out the rest of the mixture. “I was right; you do match me well.”

“Anyone can match you.” She ducked her head, the silhouette of her neck on full display because of the ponytail they were wearing their hair in. “You’re a singer who knows pitch.”

“Mm, you’d be surprised. People can’t match the flavour of vocals if their voice doesn’t fit it naturally; give yourself some more credit.” He grabbed a small pot from the cabinet.

When he turned a 180º to get vegetable oil, she was standing in front of him, lips pushed out just slightly; they pressed a finger against his mouth in a shushing motion, and he gave it a small kiss.

“I’ll believe you this once. I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing more in person.” Imane smiled and handed him the bottle he was looking for.

Kassam poured just enough into the pot to allow the falafel to float and turned on the stovetop. “I’ll consider it, love.”

They happily hummed and rummaged in the cupboard. Her hands pulled out a bag of blanched almonds and sugar.

“You two look so domestic,” a voice at G4 said from the door, and he glanced over to see Carl peeking his head out of the doorway. “Sorry, I smelled kimchi so I had to come over.”

He motioned the tech entrepreneur to come in. “I never pictured you to like pickled foods, Carl.”

“Well, I’m half Korean. Both my parents are half Irish.” The shorter man opened the drawer holding chopsticks and selected a pair of silver ones. “Can’t speak the language fluently enough to save my life but the food’s comforting.”

Imane laughed and poured the almonds into the food processor. “Three Asians in the kitchen, bonding over cuisine.”

“Not a full Korean in sight. You know it.” Carl uncapped the jar of kimchi. “Are you full Algerian, Kassam?”

”Nope. I’m mixed with Greek from my dad’s side and Egyptian on my mum’s. I also have Sudanese, Moroccan, Somalian, Russian and Nigerian in me, but little to no ties to the Russian and Nigerian culture.” He held out a hand over the oil to feel out the temperature. “It gets a bit boring being told I look like a Greek or Egyptian god when I bring it up and it's a mouthful to discuss colonialism and general migration patterns all the time, so I just say I’m Algerian to save myself the trouble. I'll take Algerian, Asian, brown or Arab, or whichever combination of the four.”

The Irishman chewed and swallowed. He waited until the food processor turned off before speaking again. “Hopefully I’m not treading on Imane’s toes when I’m saying this but you’re like the perfect blend to make a straight man question his sexuality. You're so well-spoken when you do speak.”

Was he talking about himself?

“Carl, you know you’re terrified to stand next to me, never mind tread on my feet.” Imane stood next to Kassam, with a small saucepan in hand. “Now shoo, don’t eat all of it. I want some too.”

He heard an “Alright, alright”, something metal being put in the sink and footsteps walking out. The first batch went into the oil, sizzling and hissing.

“[You’ve gone quiet, handsome.]” She was adding rosewater and orange blossom water to the unrefined sugar in the saucepan; the nostalgic scent of childhood hit his nose, coupled up with the soft tone of their French.

Kassam fished for the spider strainer in the drawer. “[You don’t mind dating men who have been in same sex relationships before, right?]”

Imane gently kissed his cheek and bumped his hip. “[Of course not, Sammi.]” She took out the small packet of shredded coconut and butter from the fridge. “[Do you mind dating women who have been in relationships with other women?]”

“[No.]” He smiled and scooped the first batch out onto the paper towel-lined plate. “[What Carl said made me think you needed to know, just in case. I’ve had exes throw it in my face before during arguments or use it as an excuse to cheat on me.]”

“[Well that’s not very nice. I think it’s low to bring up something someone can’t help about themselves as ammunition, especially something like the types of people you might fancy... It’s not on.]” They stirred the mixture to combine the sugar and the water with a whisk.

Kassam put in the second batch, feeling the small pit in the bottom of his stomach slowly melting away. “[Yeah, I don’t like fighting in general but I get into a very bad headspace if that line gets thrown at me.]”

Her free hand found his and they interlocked fingers. “[Heavy is the head that wears the crown, hmm? You deserved better, handsome.]”

Handsome was such a nice petname.

He kissed the side of her forehead, feeling them relax against his lips, and breathed in the musk and her usual smell. She also didn’t smell bad sweaty. “[You’re so sweet.]”

A purr came out of her throat. “[It’s good you have a sweet tooth then.]” She let his hand go and added just under 3/4 of the butter into the saucepan. “[Have you ever done kitchen bits before?]”

“[I only like to do bits when I’m baking or making something because I’m peckish; if you try to do bits while I’m cooking, I’m not really in the mood since I’m so hungry... and it’s the not-very-sexy type of dangerous if you get burned by hot oil.]” He scooped out the second batch and put down the last into the pot. “[Baking gives you the opportunity to really enjoy the moment since you have a window of time not needing to constantly check on what you’re making, and if I’m just waiting for the kettle to whistle for midday coffee or tea there are other ways to get me excited.]”

“[You’re ticking all of my boxes, good sir.]” Imane smiled brightly and poured the almond grinds into the pan, stirring meticulously. “[It’s almost hard to believe you’re real and that I’m not dreaming.]”

Kassam chuckled and lightly brushed his free hand against their cheek. “[I promise you that you’re awake, love.]”

His eyes glanced down at the saucepan, where the mixture was resembling something familiar.

“[Is that... harissa?]”

Imane put a small drop of green food colouring into the forming sweet and sprinkled in some coconut shreds. “[Something sweet to pay back your favour, yes.]”

He fished out the last round of falafel, turned off the heat and waited until she had poured the harissa onto a parchment paper to cool before he wrapped his arms around their waist, pulled them taut against his chest and stared into their eyes.

Brown, soft pools of caramel, with specks of green rimmed with kohl and pinky brown shadow.

Their hand perched on the nape of his neck, and slowly he felt two fingers trace down his spine and follow the contours of his back that were terribly hidden by a black muscle t-shirt. The free edge of their nails seemed to leave a trail of fire in their wake.

Kassam murmured, “Can I have you for dessert?”

The girl smirked, plush lips satin with balm instead of glossy with oil, and she purred.

“Beg for it, and I might consider.”

The last night in Casa Amor came too soon; the girls were set to depart after brunch tomorrow morning, and then the Casa Six were to pack and get shipped back to the casting villa for that afternoon before heading to the main villa.

Kassam sat at his vanity, staring at the pure gold ayatul kursi bangle he'd set on the surface. It still was untarnished, even having been through the harsh conditions it survived.

He picked it up, thumbing over the engraved phrase subconsciously to take in the divets and careful hand that carved each Arabic letter into the metal.

There is no god but Allah; he is the Living, the Sustainer of all things.

The bracelet was slightly too big for his wrist, he knew. It never was meant to be his.

The Algerian tilted the bangle so he could look at the engraved name on the inside ring of the band.

Hassein, Ahmed.

He smiled, feeling the thicker band inked on his forearm warm. There were many years where he couldn't even look without feeling a lump form in his throat and choke him into silence.

"[I hope your soul's found peace, Baba.]" Kassam touched the bracelet to his forehead, closing his eyes and exhaling. "[The garden must be beautiful up there.]"

His ears picked up the sound of music coming from outside the balcony, doors having been left slightly ajar for the night breeze, quietly traveling and bringing the colours of forest green and lilac into his peripherals. He opened his eyes, tucked the bracelet with his other belongings in the drawer and went to take a peek at what it was.

"It's been about a month and twenty days, and we're going round and round playing silly games. / Now you're saying slow it down, not right now, then you wink at me and walk away..."

The crescent moonlight was illuminating the pool, casting a calm glow over the scene; two shadows were gliding against the ground and reflecting in the water, dancing.

Kassam turned his body to lean his forearm against the cold railing, making out that the figures were Priya and Imane by their silhouettes and heights.

"Ye kya kiya mein bettab ho gaya. / Hold on, don't go... Tere bina mujhe nahi jeena, kya yehi pyaar hai..."

They were dancing in lingerie, barefoot but both on their tiptoes. Their hips and arms swayed and glided through the air, easily incorporating steps from both traditional kizomba and Egyptian dance into modern.

"(Ride it), ban jao tum. (Ride it), mere sanam... / (Ride it, ride it), kaise howa. (Ride it, ride it), dil khoo gaya... / (Ride it), ban jao tum. (Ride it), mere sanam... / (Ride it, ride it), kaise howa. (Ride it, ride it), dil khoo gaya..."

Blue eyes found purchase on Imane's figure; the creme satin of her two-piece set gleamed in the low light that made her look like an angel, with every movement twisting and turning the sheer scarf perched against their arms like water. Her legs twirled and side stepped, the gold anklet and armlet on her right side catching his attention.

"I love it when you look at me that way... / Now when you order a Mohita at the bar, re-applying lippy 'cause it came off on the glass... / The DJ plays your favourite song, Kanye's on. / Now you're beckoning for me to dance..."

His breath stopped when he could see their side profile, her bare lips parted and dark lashes fluttering, as the wind blew flower petals toward the two women. They kept dancing, feeling the rhythm with featherlight steps, and twirled in opposite directions before letting their hips sway hypnotically with arms stretched above their heads.

This definitely was not the first time they danced together.

"Ye kya kiya mein bettab ho gaya. / Hold on, don't go... Tere bina mujhe nahi jeena, kya yehi pyaar hai..."

The Algerian kept watching, entranced as they laughed together and carried on. Imane's left hand caressed from her breasts down to the glittering navel piercing while her right hand carded through their hair, her body twirling and smiling.

There was something so effortless with how the two of them moved, sensual and proud and unabashedly feminine just for themselves. There wasn't meant to be an audience onlooking; the dance was for them and the moonlight.

"(Ride it), ban jao tum. (Ride it), mere sanam... / (Ride it, ride it), kaise howa. (Ride it, ride it), dil khoo gaya... / (Ride it), ban jao tum. (Ride it), mere sanam... / (Ride it, ride it), kaise howa. (Ride it, ride it), dil khoo gaya..."

He slowly withdrew before the song ended to return back into the dressing room, ripping his eyes away from Imane's body before closing the balcony doors behind him.

The main villa was larger than Casa Amor but oddly less charming; it was sterile, surgical, sanitised-looking, with the daybeds barren of rose vines and an infinity pool that stretched across the entire length of the garden.

The Casa Lads single-filed into the Hideaway; he was the third, standing between Elijah and Carl. Graham was the fifth.

Rohan was waiting inside, dressed semi-formally in all black. He grinned at Kassam, lips crooked and brow raised.

“Alright, stranger? It’s nice to see you again.”

Kassam smiled and rolled his eyes. “At least pretend to not know me.”

“After Lucygate, I doubt anyone wouldn’t know we’re mates.” The Bengali’s dark eyes twinkled. “You should hit me up after you’re out of here so we can catch up over overpriced alcohol.”

With that, Rohan took his place on the subtly marked x on the ground right in the middle of the room, between two pillars that had roses and thorns.

On cue, the girls filed in; he didn’t even glance at anyone else, and his eyes honed in on Imane dressed in a fawn brown corset and black latex trousers and black stilettos.

The fawn made her eyes look more green.

She smiled at him, though the dimple wasn’t there; they looked slightly troubled.

Was everything alright?

Rohan cleared his throat. “Ladies, welcome back. You’ve spent the last few days in Casa Amor, where your loyalty has been tested and put on the line; the guys have been through the same, being introduced to a brand new cast of 6 Bombshells. Tonight, before you return back to the firepit you must make the decision whether you would like to stick with your villa partner or recouple with one of the Casa Amor boys. If you choose to recouple and your villa partner chose to stick, he will be left vulnerable and single. If you choose to stick and your villa partner also decided to stick, you two will automatically be coupled up again. If your villa partner chooses to recouple and you chose to stick, you will be left vulnerable and single. This is a test of your loyalty; will you choose love, if you’ve found it in the villa, or will you choose security?” There was a pause. “Or, perhaps both?”

The girls nervously shifted in their places.

“Marisol, you’re up first. Please take a step forward and make your decision.”

He tuned out, hearing something about how Casa Amor had been a chance at new beginnings; his hand reached up to rub out the itch on his left earlobe.

Something didn’t seem right about her monologue… he just couldn’t put a finger on what.

“… So I’m recoupling. I hope Bobby’s found someone as well.”

Rohan asked, “Who would you like to couple up with?”

“Graham.”

The others in the room clapped, and he joined in; the new pairing was relocated to the wall facing Rohan, next to a pillar of thorns.

Priya decided to stick. Hope decided to stick. Lottie decided to stick.

He still stood in queue with 4 other Casa Lads.

”Imane, please step forward and make your decision.”

Kassam watched as the woman stepped forward, legs shiny with black latex and catching the light like the fabric was wet.

She looked good. Extremely good, so much so he almost wanted to eat them.

“I’m going to be very honest, when coming to Casa Amor I was already weighing my options about leaving if I didn’t have a spark with anyone new. I had a chat to Henrik the morning of, and he knew that either way there was a high chance of him being left single once I returned.” Her lips pressed together. “For his sake, I hope he’s found someone… because I think I have found mine.”

Her eyes rested on him, and the twisting of his stomach stopped when she let a small smile grace her features.

“It almost feels like fate wanted him and I to meet now, and it would pain me to not follow my heart and see where things go.

“So I would like to recouple.”

Rohan beamed from ear to ear. “And who would you like to recouple with, Imane?”

Imane blushed, peach dusting her nose. “I would like to couple up with Kassam.”

Arjun’s and Elijah’s applause almost was deafening; he looked over to see the two grinning at him.

“Go on,” Elijah nodded toward the girl. “Make us proud.”

Kassam walked over to Imane who met him halfway, and kissed her softly. She giggled against his lips and led him next to Lottie, who was standing alone smiling to herself.

“Before you, Kaz, there wasn’t anyone who fit in with my girl’s aesthetic.” Black lips curled up into a genuine smile. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, but if you treat her wrong you’re raising hell from me. I’ll make sure of it.” She winked.

He gave her a two-finger salute and rubbed the small of Imane’s back. “Don’t call me Kaz and I won’t be of any worry to you.”

Chelsea chose to stick, and the remaining four men stood tall.

It looked like only Graham and him made it through.

Rohan gave the Islanders a slight crooked smirk. “Single Casa Lads, your time in the villa is almost at an end. You will get the chance to meet the villa boys and the Vixens before you’re headed off. But first, it’s time to see if the men have stayed loyal or have their heads turned.”

Chelsea was the first to leave the Hideaway, then Marisol and Graham.

Then Priya. Then Hope.

Then Lottie.

Imane looked over at him, chewing their lower lip. “I wonder why we’ve been placed to go in last.”

He pressed a soft kiss on their cheek. “For whatever reason, I think things will turn out alright.”

Rohan signalled for both of them to go through the Hideaway doors, and Kassam wrapped his arm around their waist; the doors to the back garden and the firepit were open. Two large swing beds graced either side of them, blowing sheer white sheets through the air.

They walked together on the wooden deck, Imane’s heels clicking against it, and at the end of the deck the firepit appeared on their left.

Henrik was standing alone, hand in his back pocket.

When the blond saw him, he pressed his lips together and hummed. There was a lull in nervous chatter from the background.

Sophie’s voice cut through the tension. “Henrik, because Imane has recoupled with Kassam, you are now single and therefore unfortunately vulnerable. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling...” Slowly, a sad smile upturned his lips. Henrik cleared his throat. “I actually feel happy for Imane. I knew standing here tonight would either make me single through recoupling or single with Imane choosing to leave, and although the Vixens were lovely ladies I promised myself that I wouldn’t recouple for survival if I didn’t feel a spark with anyone. And I didn’t. Imane deserves to know I think of her more highly than just a rope keeping me in the villa.”

Henrik looked evenly back at him. “Besides, the bloke looks a sort. It’s quite hot.”

“Well said.” Sophie nodded. “Please take your place next to the other singles. Everyone, welcome Imane and Kassam as the final couple!”

The two of them made their way over next to Ibrahim and a girl he didn’t recognise, and Kassam gave Imane a peck on the cheek to make her facial expression brighten up.

“Now, Lottie, Bobby, Henrik.” The host turned to face them. “You three must be under a lot of pressure right now, staying loyal to Islanders who have had their heads turned, and you must be thinking: ‘I’m dumped and going home. My time is up.’

“It is not. You three are safe for the meantime and will not be facing a dumping; the public will be voting for their favourite couples and the bottom 3 are at risk of getting dumped. You can graft all you want tomorrow, but it will not matter; your fate doesn’t lie with your fellow Islanders and your previous actions are coming back as either blessings or curses.” She smiled wryly. “With that heavy note, let’s throw a goodbye party for the Villa Vixens and the Casa Amor Bomb Squad and get to know the new arrivals. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Everyone clapped, some more hesitant and reluctant than the others, as Sophie walked away and the doors leading into the mansion opened; 5 ladies strolled out and the Casa Lads followed suit.

3 of the girls seemed to stare daggers at Jakub.

Before he could scope out more of the scene, Bobby and Henrik strolled over to him and Imane.

“We’ve never had a flavour like you in here before, mate.” The baker gave him a shoulder bump and a handshake. “You should’ve seen the looks on the girls’ and the other lads’ faces when you showed up in the video message! I’m Bobby.”

He clapped the other on the back. “Hey, nice to meet you in person. You finally don’t need to bake alone in the kitchen anymore.” Bobby perked up, and he turned to Henrik. “I’m sorry this is the circumstance we’re meeting in; you seem like one of the good ones.”

The blond grinned and gave him a firm handshake. “No hard feelings. I meant what I said earlier; there’s no bad blood between us. I actually think we’ve got a good chance to be mates in here and on the outside. I’ve met you before.”

Imane gave Henrik a soft hug, and Kassam arched a brow.

“Have we actually? Sorry, I don’t recognise you.”

A chuckle came out of the tallest man’s throat, and a grin spread on his face. “I was actually a goth kid in my late teens; I know, doesn’t look it now. You were the DJ for the blood rave I went to in the Hague a few years ago. Your set was absolutely mad, mate. Before this, I just knew you as ‘That Really Hot DJ Whose Picture of Him With Blood Splattered on His Cheek Went Viral on Twitter’.”

His brain whirred, trying to picture Henrik with black eyeliner and wearing rave clothes splattered with fake blood; it couldn’t click, but it did explain how well he was able to keep Lottie’s lipstick within the lines of his lips.

“I’m so glad you know my name now because that title’s too long.” Kassam grinned. “To be fair, I used the pseudonym Vampyr on those types of flyers because I was an edgy 20 year old.”

Bobby’s jaw dropped. “Dude, what? You sound the coolest. Can’t wait to have chats with you over some drinks or something.” He glanced over his own shoulder at something before turning back around. “Lotta’s giving me eyes so I’ve gotta jog on before she talks off my ear. We’ve got plenty of time to get acquainted tomorrow; great to meet you, Kassam!”

The remaining three waved him off, and Imane wrapped their arms around Kassam’s waist. She leaned in and whispered, “I wanted to speak with Henrik one on one for a second; go say hello to the other Islanders for me, would you?”

“Of course, love.” He kissed her softly, feeling her body melt against his for just a moment before pulling away and letting her go.

The bartender offered him a Cuba libre and he took it. Gary, Graham and Noah spotted him, and the bespectacled blond waved him over.

“Oy!” He got a strong clap on the back. “Looks like we’ve collected all the newbloods on here, Noah. You’re all fitter in person for sure.”

He clinked glasses with all of them and took a sip of his drink; it was made with more lime than the regular. “What have I missed from the conversation?”

“We were just talking about you actually. Graham was going on about how you two were workout buddies in Casa.” The librarian sipped on white wine. “To be honest, I was just thinking I should work out before brekkie, so are you two open for a third?”

Graham choked on his beer and doubled over; Kassam patted his back and rubbed his shoulder until he stopped coughing.

“He’s got a little bit of a dirty mind, sorry.” He smiled. “I’m open to it, though. I doubt it’s going to be just us three; from what I know Henrik’s the morning workout type of lad.”

Noah grinned. “Amazing. We can discuss kinks or whatever you do when lifting.”

So that definitely made it into the video message...

The fisherman cleared his throat. “We aren’t the only two boys in here that are into that sort of stuff, are we?”

Both Gary and Noah shook their heads.

“I reckon we’re the 4 kinky boys of the villa?” Gary took a swig out of his beer.

Kassam snorted. “How about the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse? I volunteer to be Pestilence.”

The librarian smirked and just kept drinking his wine. “I reckon I’m Death, Gary Famine.”

“I rather suit War so I’m not mad.” Graham clinked glasses with the others. “To the newly founded Horsemen.”

They clinked glasses, and Kassam drank with them as a toast.

“I’m kind of glad that Imane and Marisol’s found love; they were having such a rough time in here for the last few weeks.” Gary quipped over his bottle. “It’s nice to meet decent lads even if it means the OG boys need to graft harder.”

Graham hummed and waved his hand dismissively. “Grafting only gets you where you can go; if the sails don’t work then they just don’t work.” He smiled then glared at the back of Rahim’s head at the far end of the pool. “It’s amazing what can happen when you treat a woman like a human, eh?”

The Algerian spotted Arjun and Elijah near the sun loungers chatting with two of the Vixens, and Arjun waved at him; he excused himself from the other lads and walked over.

“Alright there, Kassam?” Elijah beamed and gave him a bear hug. “If I could’ve chosen only two Casa Lads to go through into the main villa, it would have been you and Graham. Congrats!”

The Punjabi followed suit on the hug. “We’re gonna miss you but we’re both going to keep watching the show to see how you do, mate.”

“Thanks, you two.” Kassam pulled out the surgical ink pen from his back pocket and wrote his actual phone number on both of their palms, being careful to tilt their hands so the Vixens couldn’t see the digits. “Here’s my dial; text me anytime so we can link on the outside. I don’t really look at Instagram DMs that often.”

He turned his attention to the girls; both were fairly tall, but still a ways shorter than Imane in heels. The girl on the left was tan skinned, green eyed and brunette; the one on the right had Moroccan features, medium olive skin to boot. “Hey, I’m Kassam.” He stuck out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Blake." The woman on the right made the first move to shake his hand. "Call me Naima though. It's rare to see people like us around these parts."

A brow raised. "From the Persian Gulf?"

"Born and raised in Marrakesh and Cairo, yes." Blake nodded, letting go of his hand and tilting her rosé glass toward the group, her hand touching right above her heart. He returned the gesture. "I was just about to go find Imane to talk; honestly, she's the only person I would be disappointed not to meet or talk to tonight. We come from the same alma mater."

He nodded toward his partner, who was speaking to Ibrahim's new pairing with Henrik by the bar. "I won't hold you then."

The girl smiled and did a half bow. "Thanks for understanding, Kassam. Congratulations, by the way." She said a quick goodbye to the other girl and excused herself.

The Algerian's eyes flitted over the remaining brunette. "And you are?"

“I'm Siobhan.” She shook his hand, smiling politely. “When the girls saw you on the video message, half of them were honestly jealous of the OGs. They’ve all been to one of your sets and Emily over there...” Her eyes led him to a girl with light brown curls and a blue pantsuit. “Apparently she tried to get access to your DJ booth once and you told the bouncer you weren’t interested.”

Kassam chuckled and sipped his Cuba libre. “I rarely like to get distracted when I’m on the job, no hard feelings. I think it’s kind of tacky so I don’t use my personal bouncer for those reasons.”

The other three smiled and Siobhan drank from her champagne flute.

“You’re one of the good ones then, Kassam.” She leaned in and pointed at Carl, who was chatting with Chelsea. “Say, is Carl available? I think he’s fit, and we’re both from Dublin.”

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot. He wasn’t tied down by any means in Casa Amor.”

“Lovely. I might just go do that actually; thanks for the chats, boys.” And she was off.

Arjun chortled and sipped his water. “Love is in the air even without being in Casa Amor.” His gaze returned to the DJ. “Genuinely though, I think coming here has been one of my best decisions of my life. Thanks for helping me settle in so easily, Kassam.”

The Algerian smiled. “Call me Salim, mate. I wouldn’t have liked Casa Amor as much as I did if you weren’t there.”

The two of them hugged and he looked at Elijah, who was looking at the duo fondly. “Take care of him, will you?”

“Sure can, Sal.” Elijah got in on the hug, and the three of them stayed in their embrace until there was a yell from Graham.

“Ahoy! Let’s send our sailors off.”

The send-off was bittersweet; Kassam found Imane standing next to Lottie and Priya, and he held her hand while they said goodbye to the Bomb Squad and Vixens.

She leaned against him and rubbed his arm. “Since there are so many more couples in here than beds upstairs, would you like to share the daybed with me? They took down my decorations so it would be nice to have some one-on-one time with you putting them back up.” Her lips curled. “It’s a lot worse upstairs, since Noah also snores.”

“So tonight’s the first night we’re sharing a bed?” Kassam kissed her nose. “I’d like that.”

She giggled and whispered something to Lottie before leading him over to the daybed where a small box was waiting on the mattress. The moonlight and the dim lights of the garden made the latex gleam as she walked.

He noticed something different about their nails when they handed him two black silk pillowcases. “Did you change your nails, love?”

“I did. Lottie helped me repaint them before we left Casa Amor.” She held out her hands so he could see the UV-cured chocolate brown modern French manicure. “Do you like them?”

They would look spectacular when her hands were a necklace for him.

Kassam nodded and sorted out the pillows. “How long have you had medium length nails for?”

“Mmm, ever since my last breakup. It took a few months to get my nails trained to grow this long, but I got there in the end. My ex never liked me having grown out nails.” She expertly roped a faux rose vine on the top left bedpost. “It was my last ‘fuck you’ to him and I’ve never looked back.”

He smiled and pulled out the black silk bed-curtain. “Attagirl.” He perched on the mattress and slotted the sides into the curtain hangers on top of the mosquito net, watching the fabric blowing softly in the wind; there was peaceful silence between the two of them as they made the bed, turning one corner of the garden into its own creation. It stood out from the rest, blue and yellow with vibrant white as far as the eye could see. This corner, like it had been before, was rich in black and purple, red roses climbing up the bedposts, and the only thing that was close to white was the detailing of her nazar amulet on the bedside table.

The garden had its charm back, now that Imane was here.

"I meant what I said back in the Hideaway, Sammi," she said, standing next to him with their hands clasped behind her. There was a delicate smile on her lips, coy and sweet.

He returned the expression, brow raising in jest. "I would be hurt if you didn't, but all the same it meant something to me." A chuckle graced his throat, him opening his arms to offer her a tender hug.

She took it, fitting themself into him and breathing in his smell. "You're really something, tiger."

The Algerian moved to kiss her cheek, letting the embrace last for just a tad bit longer to admire how warm she was, and pulled away. They didn't let him get far, her hands pulling him back in for a kiss.

Their lips tasted like lemon drops and peach; he groaned into her mouth and gently pushed her backside against the bedpost, feeling their body shiver at the movement and her thigh hitch onto his hip for balance.

"Are you testing me, love?" Kassam murmured against her lips, eyes opening to her still smiling at him and seeing their pointer finger raise to caress his cheekbone and jaw with a featherlight touch.

She let out a small giggle, her other hand tangling into his hair. "[Just for a test drive, if you're up for it.]" Her French was quiet, but mischevious and goading.

She was a sorceress working her magic on him. He wasn't complaining.

Their lips met again as his hands trailed down to their bum after taking care of the mic pack strapped around her waist, a soft growl coming from his throat when she pulled away for a split second to take off his mic loop from around his neck, and he hungrily lunged in for a third taste of her. Two fingers unclipped the small recording device from her corset and both of their mics got discarded onto the bed; he let her side step and shove his back against the post, hands pulling and tugging his hair.

His left hand experimentally squeezed her ass before giving it a smack; he smiled against their mouth when she gasped and trembled.

"[Scoundrel]," she breathed out and pulled him in by his shirt.

He chuckled and kissed her nose, keeping their bodies close and feeling how giddy her heart was beating against his own skin. “[How would you like me tonight?]”

“[I’d like to give and receive oral, Master.]” Hazel eyes sparkled as a singular nail lazily trailed down from his collar against his exposed chest. “[Let me please you; let me show how much I want you.]”

The petname made all of the blood in his head rush downward, and he grabbed their jaw squarely with his hand, seeing their eyes darken before he kissed them. His voice was deeper when he spoke against her lips.

“[Bunny knows how to play... Tonight, we abide by my rules. Your safe word is patisserie and in the occasion you’re nonverbal you may stick your little and ring finger up in front of you for me to see. Is that understood?]” She whispered a “Yes Sir” and eagerly kissed him back, and he chuckled. “[Good. Any hard boundaries you have for this arrangement?]”

Imane pressed up against him, heart fluttering and breathing uneven. “[No spanking, no blindfolding, no anal. Try to keep biting limited to areas I can cover with a bathing suit, but you can bite my neck if you wish... I’m all yours, apart from that.]” She smiled. “[Sir.]”

His hand ran through her hair, hearing a purr come from their lips. “[Good girl.]” He glanced at the villa and saw the light turn out in the communal bedroom. Everyone was falling asleep. “[Pick out an outfit you think would please me, and meet me in the bathroom with the jacuzzi. Don’t get changed just yet.]”

She nodded and gasped when he gave her bum another gentle smack, lips parted. “[Master, you’re such a tease.]” And she disappeared into the house.

He watched the light in the upstairs girls’ dressing room turn on and went inside to the boys’ dressing room on the ground floor where his luggage was waiting on one of the dressers. It looked like some of the boys moved it there as a peace offering.

Kassam quickly arranged his clothes and shuffled them into the drawers, leaving out two pairs of joggers and a hoodie for later; the bag of toiletries went onto the vanity with a small miniature of turntables in brass.

Well cute.

He took out the small black box he’d packed just in case and opened it to see the matching malachite charm bracelet to the one he had on; the wind rose glittered at him in its banded greenness, but he put it away.

It was too early for that type of commitment, but he had a feeling there would be a time and place for it.

By the time he made it into the larger bathroom, Imane was finishing up brushing her teeth still dressed in her night outfit. There was a small stack of black clothes, lace and silk and gold-chained leather garters by the looks of it, and a bondage collar with a gold hoop and a bladed ankh dangling in the centre laid out on the jacuzzi marble.

“Kinky.” He placed his clothes next to theirs and set to work brushing his teeth. His free hand slipped into her back pocket and pulled her against his side; she purred and leaned in toward his neck to kiss it.

“When you said your pseudonym was Vampyr, I knew you’d appreciate my choker.” Her tongue found a sensitive spot behind his ear and he grunted. “You can make me into your pretty human plaything.”

Kassam smirked and kept brushing; his hand slithered out of her pocket and slid between her legs. Imane melted, her thighs pressing together to keep him there.

He spat out his toothpaste and cleaned up around his mouth. “You have a corruption kink, don’t you?”

She smiled in the mirror and feigned innocence. Her eyes absent of kohl was selling it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”

His toothbrush got slotted into its little initialed holder next to the rest of the Islanders’, and he pushed her against the marble sink. Their lips met hungrily, tasting of mint and ginseng, and for a moment there was only the sounds of kisses and quiet moans.

He found the hook and eye closures of their corset and slowly undid them one by one, feeling her grip on his shirt tighten as he kissed down her neck.

“[I’m going to ruin you, Darling.]” His Arabic seemed to reverb against her skin; she quivered and let out a sigh and clung onto him.

Imane pressed up against him like they were trying to keep him from taking the corset off, but when he nudged her hips back the satin fell to the floor and she blushed. “[Only for you, Sir.]”

Hands caressed her breasts, carefully kneading and rubbing the heart-shaped rings between his fingers to stimulate their perky hardened nipples, and he watched her eyes close and lips part. And he heard the beginnings of a trail of moans come out of her mouth before she bit her lip to stifle them. “[You’re so pretty when you’re fighting it... Do I turn you on?]”

“[I know I... I know I shouldn’t, but you make things difficult.]” Her hips buckled when he pushed his thigh in between her legs, slightly gyrating for the friction and she let out a moan. “[Sir, p-please...]”

Kassam felt something hard rubbing against his thigh, resembling two studs of some sort, and he grinned. “[Sir, please what?]” His hands still were massaging at her chest, and they started bucking against him every time his fingers slotted against their piercings and pushed upward.

“[P-Please... I’m not used to feeling this warmth...]” Her eyes reopened, darkened and pupils slightly dilated and glossier. “[Can you take care of it, please, Sir?]”

He grabbed her jaw again, just slightly lower so only his thumb rested against it. The rest of his hand was against her neck, and he gently squeezed to make their breath shallow; their eyes closed.

“[Harder, Master. Please.]”

And he did, resting the crook of his thumb and pointer under their thyroid. Their grinding increased in speed, hips twitching when he fully choked them.

Her moan sounded like singing, the way it hit his ears.

Imane’s eyes opened again, even darker than before, and she leaned in and kissed him. Her tongue slipped past his lips lazily, and it was more sensual and more relaxed and more hypnotic.

More obedient.

“[Take me, Master.]” She clung to him. “[However you want me, I’ll be.]”

He smiled against their lips and undid the one button that kept his shirt on, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. His hands turned her around so she could look at their reflections and grasped her chin, turning their head to the side and making sure to keep eye contact with them when he leaned in and whispered against her neck:

“[My pretty little plaything.]”

She shuddered and nodded, sighing dreamily when he planted small kisses on her skin and unzipped the latex trousers; when he slid the waistband down just past her bum and down to their midthigh, he spotted something glinting and shining underneath their tailbone.

A ruby pomegranate seed plug, complete with a lighter pink centre and darker red on the outer.

She was wet, evident by the gleaming patch on the seat of the latex. He pushed her front forward so he could get a good look at their folds, hearing a groan as more of her bare skin met the cold marble.

Soft brown, slightly darkened by the introduced blood flow of arousal, and her lips laid almost like two flower petals budding–inviting and flirtatious. She was well-groomed, not a hair in sight, and she had two opals horizontally snug against their clitoral hood.

His left thumb gently grazed against her labia, feeling her body responding to the new contact of his ring and middle finger gently massaging her clit, and he broke character. His eyes softened and he met their gaze in-person instead of in the mirror.

“You’re beautiful, love.”

The blush that spread on her cheeks afterward made her light up the entire room and it almost blinded him. “No one’s ever said that to me before... Thank you, Sammi...”

He kept rubbing and teasing between her legs until their eyes returned to that same glossy, hypnotised state, and he continued in French. “[My pretty plaything’s already so ready for me and I didn’t even need to do anything... What a good girl.]”

“[Yes, Sir.]” She did their best not to wriggle against his thumb, whimpering when he pulled away.

He held his two fingers against her mouth, feeling her tremble. “[Open up.]” She complied, and he slipped them between her lips and felt her suckle on it. “[Just like that... You’re being so good, Bunny...]”

She pulled away with a wet pop and tilted her head, making sure to keep eye contact as they took his thumb into her mouth. They purred when his other fingers perched under her chin, forcing her face up. Kassam felt his dick strain against his pants.

Maybe he did have an oral fixation.

“[Get up, take off those trousers and the shoes,]” he instructed; Imane did so while he went to the shower stall and turned the water on. His hands made quick work of the belt around his waist and he beckoned her over; she greedily palmed the bulge in his pants, and he tutted at them while placing their hands on his trouser hook and bar. “[Not yet, baby. Be good and help me with these.]”

Imane pouted but did as she was told, watching him slip out of his boots, trousers and pants; they bit her lip when her eyes saw his almost fully erect cock, complete with the piercing she always had a fondness for and a small triangle of well-groomed hair at the base, trimmed to have just an extra bit of stimulation for his partner. “[Sir, let me...]”

He wordlessly held open the frosted glass stall door with his forearm, grabbing her by the waist and shoving her against the cold tiled wall. The door closed behind them as their lips met again, warm water cascading over both of them.

Her kiss now tasted like salted ginseng and honey, umami and salty and sweet. Irresistible.

Their bodies collided, feeling the water stream down between and against their touching skin; he bit down on her lower lip and she moaned at the pain.

“[Mine.]” He let his hands roam over her, coming to rest on her bum. He squeezed possessively.

Her fingers buried into his hair, tugging just slightly. “[Yours, Master.]” Their lips were red and swollen from the bite, and he gave them butterfly kisses to help numb the throbbing.

Kassam turned off the water, feeling goosebumps forming on her arms; he was well-adjusted to the sudden temperature drop because of his preference of cold showers, and his lips curved into a smirk when her eyes went wide at the realisation she was the only one getting chicken skin.

“[You look so cute when you’re nervous, baby.]” He chuckled and took three steps back, leading her with him; his back hit the other wall, and his tongue gently traced up the vein closest to their throat. “[On your knees and spread your legs. Keep your hands where I can see them.]”

He was very aware how he looked right now, with wet hair curling against his forehead and kohl-rimmed eyes. The shower lighting made the contours of his body harsher, darker, more etched. His exes always said he looked superhuman when drenched in water.

Imane seemed dazed, amazed by him and complied easily. Her hands landed on his upper thighs. “[Yes, Sir.]” She gasped when he nudged her knees slightly more apart with a foot, practically sitting on her calves but still holding herself up.

His hand found the back of her head, and it made him grin when her gaze automatically went downward to her eye level, staring directly at his dick. “[How do you like it, Bunny?]”

Her lips parted to speak, only for no sound to come out. They tried again.

“[I like my mouth full, Sir.]” They moaned when he roped her hair around his fingers, turning it into a messy and wet half updo, and yanked slightly. She looked gorgeous. “[Please punish me for acting out of line before.]”

Kassam pretended to think, tapping his chin with his other pointer finger. “[Hmm... I’ll forgive you for your previous impatience if you behave and do a good job, Darling. Show me how dirty you can be for me.]” He forced his voice slightly deeper. “[I want you to defile your own mouth.]”

In the dim light, he saw her pupils blow out even more and her body shiver at his last sentence.

“[Yes, Sir.]” Imane’s right hand moved from his thigh to the underside of his cock, fingernails gently scratching down from tip to the base; their hand wrapped around it and pumped, giggling in delight when the head flushed pink and fully erected.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she hesitantly inched forward to give his slit a kiss and a lick; he grunted at the warmth and steeled his thighs not to thrust. She kissed the top stud of his King’s crown and nibbled her way down to the second, and he exhaled through his nose.

Imane kissed her way back to the tip, eyes widening slightly at the precum that had seeped out. “[What’s this...]” She used her right thumb to swipe it up, and licked it; her lips smacked and she looked like she was gauging the flavour. “[How delicious.]” Their tongue found the underside of his cock and slowly licked up, her gaze flickering to his.

It was a scene to remember, her heart nipple rings glinting in the low light, her knees spread apart, manicured fingers around his dick.

And in one fluid motion, she took him into her mouth, humming at the sensation of metal on their tongue. He growled.

Fuck.

He felt her vampire teeth gently graze against his length, and at the same time Imane moaned.

FUCK.

Kassam bit back the animalistic urge to slam all of him into her, and instead tightened his grip on her hair to stabilise himself. “[Good girl. That’s it...]”

She hummed in contentment, pumping the base with their hand and softly bobbing her head at a lazy but steady pace. The hand on his thigh remained there, but their other hand slowly migrated down to cup and squeeze to milk him, and the giggle she let out when she felt the slight peach fuzz went straight to his head; he groaned at the newly found contact, bracing himself against the shower wall and closing his eyes for a moment.

“[Mmmh...]” Imane pulled her mouth away and kissed and nibbled at his slit, hungry for more precum. “[You taste really good, Master. I wonder...]”

His eyes opened halfway, meeting her gaze just as she shifted the balance on her knees and took all of his length in with ease. For a second, stars seemed to dazzle on the ground and he felt like he was floating.

“[Fuck!]” He hissed and gripped her jaw to keep them there, feeling her nose nuzzle gently against his well-trimmed hair and humming. It was warm and wet, her tongue easily rubbing along the vein running at the base of his cock.

He let go of her jaw so she could take a breather; there was saliva travelling down to her chin, and her lips were glistening with spit, and their eyes twinkled with darkened lust.

“[Hah... More...]” Her hands found his hips and her gaze honed in on his dick. “[I’m not defiled enough yet, Sir...]”

And her mouth took him in all the way once again, moaning at the feeling of him in the back of their throat. And their head started bobbing again, this time with more vigour. Hungry for something, and he couldn’t help but to soft guide her by their hair. The action made her whine in pleasure and keep going.

“[You’re so fucking hot like this, Bunny.]” Kassam grunted and pulled her head back when he was just a ways from climaxing, in time to cum in her mouth. “[Good girl... Swallow, then open up.]” His breathing was shallow and his heartbeat was thumping in his ears in irregular time.

Imane’s tongue rolled slightly against both cheeks, not bothering to wipe the drool dripping from their chin, and swallowed. When she reopened her mouth and softly stuck out her tongue, there were strands of cum-mixed saliva gleaming in the light. “[Ahhhhhhhh~]”

He pulled her head back roughly and spat onto her tongue, feeling her body shudder and relishing in the whimper she let out. “[Naughty girl...]” He smirked, pretty certain he had post-orgasm glow with how warm his face was. “[Swallow, then let me get you tidied up. You’re so good to me.]”

She did as was told and stood up, purring when the shower water started again. He tilted her head up and licked from her throat up to their mouth, tasting the salted sweetness of precum mixed with her spit, and kissed her softly.

His cum added a new flavour, that of pineapple jam.

“[You did so well, baby.]” His lips trailed down the side of their neck, feeling it tilt to the side and beckoning him to bite down on their soft skin.

Kassam complied, sinking his teeth into flesh and relishing the drops of blood that beaded into his mouth; Imane gasped and clung to him, a strangled pleasured moan hitting his ears. She trembled and he caught her in his arms, holding her close and kissing the tender and bloodrushed spots.

“[You’re so gentle, Master.]” She giggled, her hands on his triceps, and she leaned against him. Her wet hair stuck to his chest as she rested her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “[You have so much humanity left in you...]”

His eyes widened at the soft French they’d just spoke; it was reassured, kind and quiet. There was something in the phrasing that struck him to the core, something uncomfortably warm that only used to happen when he was DJ’ing at blood raves, when the showers started and everyone got doused and kept dancing.

You have so much humanity left in you.

20 year old him would have laughed humourlessly and told her there wasn’t such thing.

Blue eyes, for a moment, saw himself in the reflection of the stall: rage with nothing else behind his eyes, blood seeping out of his nose from a sucker punch at a bar fight. The hands on her body were red and raw at the knuckles, hurting from the repeated impact of punching someone else and dislocating their jaw.

In that instance, the anger dissipated to be replaced with a strange new flurry of emotion—first, the pang of surprise hearing the words again in his head. Second, the moment of recognition that she was talking to him. Third, the very human mechanism of sadness and the tears that welled up and bubbled over in his reflection. The raw flesh on his hands healed over and the blood from his nose turned into water, washing away with the gold leaking from his eyes.

He hadn't cried for eight years, eight whole years, until he was twenty.

There was humanity still left in him, after all.

He pressed a kiss on the top of her head and chuckled. “[You bring that out, Darling. Let’s get you clean.]”

Imane purred when he lathered her hair with the shampoo in their designated wall bin, the fragrance of rose and jasmine and green tea filling his nose, and massaged her scalp to help relieve the ache where he tugged; her legs were still quivering from the bite, but she was standing on her own. “[Aftercare already, Master? What about...]”

He shushed her, pressing a kiss to her nose. “[Patience, my love. Let me take care of you.]”

He didn’t want to rush her, knowing it might make them nervous and less able to enjoy the moment; his fingers gently carded through her hair, following the wave pattern until the middle of her back before using his thumbs to knead out the tension around her shoulder blades. She sighed and relaxed, lazily turning her head to receive soft kisses from him.

His hands moved down to their lower back, massaging out the knots and muscle tensions, and smiled against their lips when she was slowly turning into putty in his arms. “[My sweet Bunny...]”

“[I’ve never gotten this type of pampering before, Sir. I didn’t even realise how tense I was.]” She washed out the shampoo before wrapping her arms around his neck and planting featherlight kisses on his jaw. “[Keep doing what you’re doing and I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk.]”

Kassam grinned and slid his hand between her legs again, marvelling at how deliciously wet she still was–potentially even more so because of servicing him. “[I can carry you, doll.]” His thumb found her clit and gently circled it, feeling how the piercing rubbed against both their skin and moved with her hips. “[Still so very warm.]”

Imane gasped and bucked against his hand, stopping herself when they realised what he was doing. Her thighs trembled. “[You’re... teasing me, Sir.]”

“[I’m not hearing any complaints, am I now?]” His eyes twinkled amusingly, and he ran the water over his hand to clean his fingers, watching the slippery arousal that almost glimmered like oil slip off with the downpour. “[The only fingers allowed to play with you for the time being are mine, understood?]”

She nodded against his shoulder as he shut the water off again, working in her hair treatment that smelled of brown sugar and honey. “[Yes, Sir... Thank you.]”

That was the je ne sais quoi of what she smelled like: brown sugar and honey.

His hands found her breasts, supple and aching, and he kissed her again. Her hands teased through his hair, and his cock pressed against her back, and they moved against each other slowly. Every so often she’d let out a shaky sigh, pressing her thighs together, and he’d move them away again.

“[You’re so cute when you’re modest, baby.]” His hand found her thigh and rubbed. “[Keep your legs open for me.]”

Imane whimpered and gasped when he purposefully pinched his fingers around a nipple ring. “[It’s so warm and wet, Master... P-Please...]”

“[Master, please what? Use your words, Bunny.]” He turned on the water again to rinse out the hair product and quickly clean himself off, growling when it didn’t feel like her hand around him.

They needed to do this more often, but this was just a test drive.

Her lips parted to let out a laboured sigh, whining when his fingers left her skin. “[Master, please let me cum on your tongue... Please...?]” Hazel eyes burned with shame and lust, a type of desire that could knock a man off his feet.

It made him smile and shut the water one last time, and he pulled them in for a kiss.

“[Of course, baby. How could I resist you asking that way?]” He pressed a kiss to her nose and opened the stall door. “[But first, wouldn’t you agree that you’d look better gift-wrapped, Bunny? I want you to look like you belong to me.]”

Kassam took two fluffy towels and threw one over his shoulder, gently towel drying her hair and kissing the top of her head. She purred and giggled.

“[May I dry you, Sir?]” Her lips found his neck, the contact sending an electric shock down his spine. “[I promise I’m very good at the job.]”

He handed her the spare towel and sighed when her hands pressed against his chest with the fabric between them. “[Eager to please, hmm?]” His breath caught in his throat when he felt her hands caressing the skin against his ribs, and he carried on drying them off, subtly cupping her underbreast and feeling them smooth against his grip like pillows.

“[You’re very nice to touch.]” Imane smiled, letting the cloth move over his abs. “[And you look very nice with wet hair, Master... I almost don’t want to dry it if you don’t want me to.]”

He playfully shook out some of the water in his hair, smirking when she made a surprised squeal at the water droplets that landed on her face and chest. “[Oh no...]” His voice dripped with bantering sarcasm. “[I got you all wet again. Hmm, what a shame.]”

She laughed when he started kissing all the spots the water dripped onto to dry them off, letting out a soft moan when his lips found the forming bite mark on her neck. “[No fair, you’re playing dirty, Sir.]”

“[Who said anything about this game having fair rules, Darling?]” Kassam kissed the swells of their breasts and playfully licked her right nipple before continuing to actually dry them off. “[I can do as I please with you, all night long, and there’s nothing you can do about it.]”

Her nose wrinkled when he kissed the bridge but their lips upturned, hips wriggling against his hands. “[You say it like I want to do anything about it, Sir.]” Hazel eyes twinkled. “[Keep being mean to me; I find it hot.]”

He bit down on her left underbreast, overlapping with the older bite he left a few days ago, and felt her legs quiver while he dried off her bum in relaxing small circles. Their thighs pressed together again, and a crooked grin coloured on his lips as he backed her up against the jacuzzi marble and loosely wrapped his hand against her neck. “[A bit bratty, are we? I said keep your legs apart.]”

Imane smiled sweetly. “[I promise I’m a good girl deep down, Master. You just need to work for it.]” She wriggled out of his grasp and bent forward to start dressing, making sure to expose their aroused folds to him.

They begged for his mouth and tongue to give some tender love and care.

Kassam held himself back but kept watching her dress, his tongue flicking out to lick the corner of his mouth. Their labia contracted and relaxed after she had slipped on her black lace and silk panties after the leather garter belt, and he looked up to see them gazing at their reflections in the mirror. “[A little bit of an exhibitionist, getting turned on seeing me look at you?]”

She giggled and nodded. “[You make me feel pretty, Sir.]” The silk stockings got rolled over their calves and midthighs, and she expertly secured them to the belt. Gold chains hung from around the small of her waist, and his dick throbbed at the picture of them laying on their side, one leg up so the chains followed the curve of her bum... Surely she was the type to bury her face into a pillow while taking it from behind but still watch herself in the mirror and love seeing the obsession with them in her partner's reflection, wasn't she?

He wanted to thank her parents for making someone so beautiful.

Imane slipped into the lace bustier, the heart rings and the shadow of her underbreast peeking shyly through the sheer fabric. She held out the choker to him, looking at him with a cheeky smile. The ankh jingled against the gold loop melodically. “[Will you do the honours, Sir?]”

“[Of course, my love.]” He took the choker and slipped it against their neck, sneaking in a soft kiss on their left ear and smiling when his lips met the emeralds and diamonds bedazzling the shell of her ear. “[You’re all mine.]”

She leaned into the kiss and gently clung to him, purring. “[Yours, Master. I hope you treat your Bunny well.]” And then she scampered off, chains on their hips swaying, to the sink to fix up her hair.

It didn’t take long to dress himself, and he stood up straight to deal with the dirty clothes and put them into the small hamper in the corner. He could feel her gaze on him holding the extra pair of joggers in one hand and the hamper in the other.

“The lads are going to flip if they see this, and I hate locker room talk... Would you mind putting this with your laundry, love?” He pressed a soft peck to the top of their head, breathing in the scent of jasmine and green tea and honey of her hair serum. “I’ll make you a good cup of coffee in the morning.”

Imane smiled. “That’s very gentlemanly of you; I’ll do that...” She tilted her chin up so he could kiss their forehead, humming at the contact. “Do you have an extra pair of legs that I don’t know about?”

Kassam chuckled. “No silly, they’re for you. You’re flames but you’re going to catch a cold if you sleep in those.” He let go of the hamper so his hand could glide over her stocking-clad thighs. “We can save your sleeping only in lingerie for when we’re indoors. Grab a sweatshirt when you’re in the dressing room, just in case.”

A happy giggle came from her lips and she blushed at the thought. “You’re really something, handsome.” She turned around and pressed a meaningful kiss against his lips. “Would you like me to blowdry your hair before I sneak into the changing room?”

“I’ll fix myself up, but thank you for asking.” He handed her their stilettos with a smirk. “I like how we can go from horny to domestic very quickly.”

Again she giggled, her nose wrinkling with giddiness. “I think it’s really cute... Some of my previous partners always poked fun at me for wanting breaks when we’re being kinky.” She pouted and twiddled her fingers. Her eyes looked down. “You’re really gentle with me and not pushy. I don’t know, I’ve just... never met anyone quite like you before.”

“Mmm, I’m glad.” He tapped his thumb against their nose lightly. “People always get the assumption that I’m horny all the time because I write horny R&B songs, but I cherish domestic moments like cooking together and just talking to each other, even if it’s about kinks or our deepest darkest fears.” His blue eyes softened and he switched back to Arabic, keeping his tone the same. “[It helps being able to switch languages so I don’t need to worry about people intruding or knowing too much about my emotionality being spread to strangers. I keep my heart open for those who know me like that and closed for people who don’t.]”

She leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, smoothing out his hair. He could feel the smile against his mouth, and they brushed noses while maintaining shy eye contact.

“[I hope that you trust me one day to let me hold your heart in my hands, Sammi. I won’t ask too much of you so soon; you can take your time. I promise I’m not going anywhere.]” Imane kissed his cheek and picked up the hamper. “[I’ll meet you on the daybed to continue our escapade, my soul?]”

Rohi. My soul.

The petname almost made him collapse. His hands found her waist and he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

“[Of course, my light. If you ditch me, I’ll be heartbroken.]”

Her breath caught when he had called them Noor. My light.

Imane smiled and scurried out of the room on their tiptoes, wearing a pretty shade of peach on their cheeks.

Kassam headed back downstairs, stealing himself into the dressing room and pulling off the hoodie over his head. He needed something more formal, but he was keeping it for sleepwear. His hands made quick work with moisturiser and he removed the kohl with cleansing milk on a soaked square of cotton. He popped out his contacts, spritzed cologne behind his ears and slipped on his prescription everyday glasses before doing a courtesy blowdry of his hair.

As much as he loved the vampire look, it was time for Imane to see him without kohl.

He quickly nabbed a white muscle t-shirt and slipped it on; his fingers adeptly unzipped the small bag he put innocently next to his pile of neatly folded and ironed evening trousers and pulled out the one-shouldered leather chest harness, glinting with gold chains and hardware. The two diamond studs sparkled as he fastened the belt around his abdomen.

He looked fantastic. The tiger’s eye bracelet really went with the outfit.

With that, he headed back to the daybed. Imane was lounging on it like a cat, back facing him to expose their bum, chin buried in a familiar-looking hoodie...

“[Bunny, you know it’s not nice to keep other people’s clothes without permission.]” He chuckled and put a knee up on the mattress to slink up on them.

She purred and turned around, eyes closed. “[What are you going to do about it, Sir?]” Her eyes opened and widened, pools of brown and green blinking up at him. “O-Oh...”

Kassam raised an eyebrow. “[Cat got your tongue, love?]”

Imane blinked slowly again, a blush colouring their cheeks, but she gave him a dimpled smile. “[You look really handsome like this, Sammi...]” Her hand reached out and caressed the side of his face, her French making the air almost sing in his ears. “[You’re unreal.]”

“[You’re going to give me a big head.]” He chuckled and kissed her, letting their tongues shyly dance together. His vampire teeth nipped at her upper lip, feeling them shiver. “[Not that I’m complaining, especially when those compliments come from you.]”

She moaned when his tongue found her neck, right above the choker. “[I mean it though.]”

"[Turn around for me, baby.]" The Algerian gently guided her onto her front, kissing her shoulder and trailing playful nibbles down their spine. His hands found their legs and tucked her left knee up so his hand could slip between her ass and put pressure on the plug with his palm while his fingers rubbed her clothed folds. "[Stay still.]"

Imane bit down on two fingers, letting out a shaky sigh and whining. "[Yes, Sir.]"

He chuckled and put some of his weight against her back like he was pushing her down into the bed, two fingers looping into the golden hoop on her neck and pulling possessively and feeling their hips jerk upward before falling still again.

She was kinkier than he thought.

His lips found her left shoulder blade and kissed down to her hip, right at the sensual dip between the small of her waist and her pelvis; his teeth sank into the soft flesh, marking her. Her hips twitched.

Pretty fingers tightened in his favourite hoodie’s fabric, and she let out a sigh when his hand found her waist and turned her onto her back again. “[Master, stop teasing please... Bunny’s been good...]”

“[Hmm, and a clothes stealer. Surely you deserve a little punishment, Darling.]” His fingers toyed with the lace panties, and he planted a kiss on their shoulder. “[It will be a good lesson of self restraint to not cum on my tongue until I allow you, mmm?]”

Her body quivered, and she bit her lip and nodded. “[Yes, Sir. I'll be good.]” Her hips moved up as a signal to take off the lace and silk hiding her from him, and pleading eyes looked at him with a slight tinge of confusion when he pulled her legs apart and propped up her knee; the confusion was gone when his thumb easily moved the fabric to the side.

He kissed his way down to the belly button piercing, still a gold sun and diamond star, relishing in the micromovements and small noises each kiss elicited. His lips found the dimples on her hips and the soft skin of her inner thighs, and he leaned down between their legs.

The moan that came from her when his tongue connected with their folds was exquisite. It was reminiscent of how the sun peeked out behind the horizons whenever he’d stay up composing a new track, beckoning him to get some rest and promising that it would still be up when he woke. Warm, and gentle, and wanting.

God, it was the wanting.

His lips whispered against her skin, lapping up her arousal with lazy fervour and feeling her thighs quiver every time his nose or lower lip would nudge their clit piercing. She tasted like salted honey and umami, and he was hungry.

Her clit was a cute pearly pink when she was horny.

“[Sir, that feels so good...]” Imane buried her face into his hoodie, hips softly bucking against him. Her hand found the back of his head, and he groaned when nails scraped against his scalp to hold him there. “[Oh my god, yes...]”

Kassam caressed their waist with his other hand, rubbing soothing circles against her skin using his thumb, and kept patiently and attentively eating her out; he almost wanted to take off his glasses to allow himself more room to go deeper, but he kept them on. Her facial expressions and writhing body, breasts falling and rising with every few strokes of his tongue and suckles from his lips, were too pretty to not watch with full clarity.

His hand pulling their panties to the side adjusted so his little finger kept the fabric in place, and her back arched slightly when she felt the sensation of his pointer and middle finger rubbing at her swollen and wet labia. He teased them apart to let his tongue lick at their opening, chuckling when her hips pressed upward in an attempt to push his fingers inside.

“[You’re so delicious, baby.]” His fingers kept toying with their folds, sinking just above the distal segment of his two fingers into them and playfully drawing them out when she tried to persuade them in deeper. “[Ah-ah, on my terms. What did we just discuss, Bunny?]”

The tops of her cheeks, peeking out above the fabric of his hoodie, were peachy. “[You’re teaching me... patience... so I should wait. S-Sir.]”

He chuckled against her clit, hearing the whimper from her throat. “[Good girl. I can’t wait until I make you unable to speak coherent sentences.]” His fingers continued patiently circling her slit, relishing in how evidently aroused she was. “[Do you like this, baby?]”

She bit her lip, covering their mouth with a hand to stifle a loud frustrated moan, and nodded quickly.

“[Use your words, Darling.]” Kassam flashed her a genuine smile, fixing his glasses with the hand he had on her waist. “[How much do you like it?]”

Imane shyly covered her neck and breasts with his favourite hoodie. “[I... Master, I really like it when you tease m–]”

His pointer and middle fingers slotted inside her easily, using their own wetness to keep the friction at a minimum. Her thighs quivered and she let out an unadulterated moan at the surprise entrance, hazel eyes misting over slightly as their hands clutched at the hoodie.

Their eyes met, and he smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“[Yes, baby? Continue.]”

She opened her mouth, tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. “[M-Master, I feel rea–]”

His fingers curled upward, fingertips rubbing against her G-spot. She whined and bucked her hips, body spasming once when his mouth found her clit and suckled while he started moving with her, letting her ride on his digits. He relished in hearing their breaths becoming more laboured and feeling her thighs pressing against his jaw and her calves crossing behind his head, trapping him there to keep licking and kissing her folds.

She wasn’t cumming though, even as her arousal was becoming milkier indicating she wanted to.

“[S-Sir... oh my god... S-Sir... right there...]” Imane let out a restrained whimper and slightly shook her head, hips slowing down. “[I n-need to be a good girl, Sir... I won’t c-cum until you l-let me, Sir... Please...]”

He chuckled and turned his head to plant a soft kiss against her inner most thigh, thumb gently toying with her clit piercing, rubbing it back and forth and sadistically enjoying her body showing signs of overstimulation even without an orgasm. Her torso was twitching, their breathing was shallow and inconsistent, her hips were shivering and she was turning more and more rosy in the cheeks. She was still so, so wet, the sound of her arousal slicking against his fingers angelic.

“[S-Sir... oh, Sir... p-please... Sir...]” Tears were welling up in her eyes from restraining her body from allowing it what they needed. “[Sir...]”

Kassam smiled. “[You can cum, Bunny.]” He made his fingers curl again and licked her swollen clit, feeling it jump against his tongue as they came. He withdrew his fingers and grabbed both of her thighs to push their knees up toward her chest. His teeth found the swell of her bum and bit down to mark her, and she lost it.

The moan was guttural, a type of primal relief, and music to his ears. It sounded like the feeling of coming home to a warm cup of tea while listening to the waves crashing against the shore, the moon watching over the tide.

He felt his pupils dilate watching the trickle of glazed milk leak out of her, beckoning for him to have another taste.

Her cum melted against his tongue, slightly bitter but overall sweet. Like dark chocolate and honey.

He let her gently wriggle against his mouth to calm herself down from the high, chuckling when she shuddered as he patiently lapped at her folds like he was about to indulge her again for round two.

The previous ones were fools; she was so beautiful like this.

He pulled away, pressing soft kisses to the backs of her thighs and whispering praises against her skin. After her breathing mellowed, he slipped her panties back into place and planted a gentle kiss against their clothed core, smiling when she giggled at the whisper of thankful prayer for a good meal, his hands slotting and pushing her legs against each other and to the side, and moved upward so they could look at each other face to face while snuggling. His thumb gently stroked her underbreast, feeling the warmth of her skin against his front.

Imane opened her eyes after a moment, softly letting out a sigh and giggling. “Here, you didn’t wipe your mouth clean...” She reached out and ran their finger along his chin and underneath his lower lip, sticking it in her mouth afterward and humming at their own taste. “I taste really good.”

He leaned in for a series of tender kisses, smiling when her hand found their way in his hair and the other against his harnessed chest. “How do you rate oral now, love?”

“Hmm.” She turned her body around, thigh lazily hitched onto his hip, and she kissed him again like they meant it before pulling away and touching foreheads with him. “I really enjoyed it... It might be the post-orgasm delusion you put me in, but I’d say it was even better than my fantasies.” The corners of her eyes upturned when she smiled. “And you’re probably right that receiving oral is a non-negotiable, handsome.”

His heart stuttered and he held her close, letting her bury her nose against his collarbone. “Glad to be of service. You were very good to me.”

Imane hummed against his skin, cradled against his chest. “I give you a 9.5 out of 10... there’s always room for improvement.”

“I’ll take it.” Kassam pressed a kiss to the top of their head. “Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom so you can use the toilet and rinse your mouth, love.”

She said something, muffled against the fabric of his shirt, before tilting their head up and giving him puppy eyes. “My legs aren’t working, Sammi...”

He grinned and sat up. “I’ll carry you, you spoiled spoiled princess. Just put on the joggers first so your legs don’t get cold from the aircon.”

The smile she returned him, coupled with the dusty rose cheeks left over from their orgasm, made something in his gut flutter as he stood by the bed.

Butterflies, for the first time in years.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Kassam, how do you deal with change? I thought you’d be a good person to ask, being cosmopolitan and all that.”

He looked up at Bobby, who was playing with a marshmallow in his Turkish coffee on the kitchen island. His hands still were busy with a spatula, folding meringue into the sifted almond flour mixture. “Are you on about Noah and Hope, and Ibrahim?”

There was a moment before the sullen baker nodded. “I think it’s just hard to wrap my head around three OGs getting dumped within one night, since this is the first time it’s happened...” Light brown eyes shifted around while he took a forlorn sip of his drink. “It makes me think how real we’re getting into the competition, and how this at the end of the day’s a game with outside players.” He frowned. “I don’t think me, Lotta and Henrik made the wrong decision to save Priya though, don’t get me wrong, but usually I get kinda stressed out with massive changes. It’s just... something I’ve always dealt with.”

“It’s always tough when you get caught up on hypotheticals.” Kassam shrugged and started making figure 8’s in the batter. “When I first came to Newcastle, I turned a tad agoraphobic because I missed what it was like in Constantine even with the circumstances back there. My mum taught me that to uncover why I was feeling anxious I had to ask myself what I needed to cope in the moment rather than what I wanted to escape. What do you need, right now?”

Bobby sucked his teeth, the mug up by his lips. “Good God, you and your mum definitely ask hard questions.” He thought about it for a moment. “I’m rubbish with my feelings, but I guess I’m sorta grappling with being so understood by Noah since we bonded over being biracial. Him and I had some deep talks about... our sense of belonging. Now it feels like I’ve gotta start all over, with this looming threat that this new person can be taken away too. You’re alright with talking about death and all that, right?”

The two bands on his forearm seemed to burn; he nodded and busied himself with scooping batter into a piping bag.

“Reckoned you were alright with it, being a dark industrial DJ and all that.” The baker took another sip of coffee. “Part of the reason I applied for the show was to run away from my job; not a lot of people talk about how being a hospital caterer’s like sometimes being a therapist. My cohort’s in charge of taking care of meals for the ICU, so every time a patient disappears from our little board without a file that says they’ve been discharged it’s unspoken that they’ve passed. Had a patient who got a heart transplant that looked eerily similar to my dad for a few weeks, talked to him about his family and how his kid just got a dog.” His face fell. “The day before he was gone, he called me Son. It was like he knew he wasn’t gonna see me again and he wanted to express his gratitude for giving him the time, you know? I had to ring my dad during my break hour just to make sure he was alive and well, think I might have freaked him out a bit with how much I was going on and on about how I love him... Therapy’s been a great help for my mental and keeping my shite on track in the real world, but I still deal with change like a bellend. Been a bit of a shut-in, sulking in the lounge where Noah and I had boy chats, until you asked me to come out while brewing your coffee and asked if I wanted any.” His lips curled up but they were pressed together. “Thanks, by the way. It’s nice for a new lad to give me the time of day to be honest. From my first impressions, I got the idea you were a prickly sort.”

“Oh, I am a prickly sort.” Kassam smiled, twisting the bag closed and snipping the tip end. He started piping. “I’m just not an asshole. If you’re struggling, you’re not going to have me add onto that; I’m snarky but never with mean intentions.”

Bobby sighed in relief, his shoulders dropping. “Phew, that's a relief. I walked in on Lotta, Hope and Marisol going at it about your character before the dumping; Lotta was defending you, for the record.”

The Algerian rolled his eyes. “Marisol needs to keep my name and Imane’s name out of her mouth and maybe use her time more wisely to crack on with Graham. I literally couldn’t be less bothered about what she’s got to say.”

“Ooooooh, you’ve got some feisty words.” The Scots-Jamaican stuck out his lip while looking impressed. “To be fair, I kinda agreed with Lottie so Marisol’s been giving me the ol’ stink eye ever since.”

He cut more of the used piping bag to retrieve the metal tip, then tossed the bag in the bin. “She’s been cross with Graham for being mates with me after I apparently disrespected her in Casa Amor,” he quipped while rinsing the tip clean under the tap. “I just told her to lay off my case on how I conduct myself because it’s none of her business and she took it like I stabbed her in the chest.”

“She’s like that sometimes. I don’t understand why she attempts to sabotage all of Imane’s budding relationships.” Bobby snorted and giggled. “When I had a small little crush on them, and told her truthfully how I wanted to get to know Imane, she immediately started grafting on Henrik and made herself look a right fool.” He took another sip from his mug. “Then I realised that my crush on her wasn’t actually romantic and that I was somewhat in awe of her personality, so now we’re just on friendly terms.” He ran a cursory hand through his hair, button nose scrunching in thought. “When the video from Casa Amor got sent to us the morning of sticking or switching, we saw Marisol telling Imane to,” he muttered, pushing up imaginary glasses and twirling an invisible strand of hair, “’think of Henrik. I don’t think Kassam’s as genuine as you think he is, hun; it’s a tactic to make you take him back. His body language is all off.’” Bobby coughed. “Imane stood her own though, sending it right back on her to think about me. Henrik started laughing so hard he fell off the bed, and said with his chest that if you weren’t brought back he would haul you in here himself.”

Kassam slammed the tray down on the counter to get rid of air bubbles. “Marisol should learn what goes around comes around. I won’t be the one to wish ill on her, but she’s putting the energy on herself.” He shook his head slightly, letting out a breath through his nose. “Whatever game she’s playing, I refuse to participate in.”

“Her level of self awareness definitely needs some work.” The baker whistled and got up, heading to the fridge. “You a fan of matcha filling for macarons, mate?”

“Absolutely. Add some ginger in there and you are gold.” He chef kissed and covered the macarons with a kitchen towel for them to set. “I’m happy with raspberry or blueberry though; I saw some earlier with the fruit restock this morning.”

Bobby pumped his fists in the air in victory. “I can definitely sort out a blueberry jelly and matcha buttercream, no problem. These bad boys should be done by the time the new girls bring back the posse.”

“Elisa was bold to select three girls she saw as her type to befriend instead of choosing three dates, I’ll say that for sure.” He started the tap again to wash the mixing bowl and utensils, hearing Bobby on his right shuffling through the pots and pans. “I wonder what her MO was about.”

“Eh, it’s not everyday that happens. I heard she said something about wanting Lottie and Imane to give her tarot readings and for Priya to poke around about her modelling stint back in the day.” The baker found a saucepan and set it on the stove. “Jo’s got some spunk, steamrolling through Henrik, Gary and Graham even when Chelsea and Marisol were so pissed about it. This villa’s getting so colourful with these personalities.”

Kassam hummed in agreement, scrubbing away the leftover meringue from the electric whisk. “And we as the remaining two lads get to be comfortably alone.”

Bobby grinned. “You’re an outstanding guy. I wish I woke up earlier to join in with the morning workout but I was so dead tired just watching you all being energetic first thing in the morn.” He dumped a box of blueberries into a metal strainer and used the other sink to give them a rinse. “It takes military-level discipline that I don’t have.”

“Surely you’re joking. Give yourself more credit; working out at the brink of dawn isn’t everyone’s thing.” The DJ shut off the tap and dried his hands, turning his body to rest his forearm against the counter. “I have no issue with spotting you whenever you want to work out, regardless of if I’ve already done my sets for the day.”

The baker shuffled out enough white sugar into the bottom of the saucepan, lips pursed. “Yeah, Rahim used to be my workout buddy after brunch and Gary sometimes used to get in a second session in on some days with us... Thanks for the offer, Kassam. I’ll consider it, but right now I think I need to sort out my head before you feel like a replacement for someone else and I end up being a knobhead.”

“All good, mate.” Kassam smiled. “Consider baking a new thing you can do with a new lad if you ever feel down.”

Bobby smiled cheek to cheek and nodded; he turned on the heat after knocking in all the blueberries. “Right on. You’ve got a calming but very intimidating presence, you know that?”

The Algerian chuckled, taking a drink from his iced mastic Turkish cold brew. “It’s part of what makes a good DJ, being able to command a room with or without your turntables. You can have the best beats in the world but if you can’t control a crowd, the fruits of your labour doesn’t matter.”

“You’re telling me. Noah and Gary went wide-eyed when they heard your voice change from normal into your diaphragm doing the Casa Lad chant.” Bobby pretended to wipe sweat from his brow, puffing up his chest and doing the Superman pose. “’Oi! Who would’ve thought the bloke could go so low yet be so loud?’” It was clear that he was imitating Gary. “’Giving Rahim a run for his money, yeah?’”

Kassam handed him a hand whisk, suppressing a smile at the awful attempt of the Estuary accent. “The lads would be surprised to know I used to play football back in the day and that’s when I started doing that lower voice.”

The Scot perked up. “Football? Holy shit mate, I used to play too! We could do dribbles while the jello and buttercream chill.” He set a steady whisking pace for his hand before turning his head to give him a casual head-to-toe inspection. “Now that you bring it up though, you do have the football bod with, like, the muscle of a soldier. You’ve just got a more muscly back than the uzhe.”

“Spending time staring that in detail at my back to know it’s that way, Bobby?” He raised an eyebrow, laughing when Bobby swatted at him. “I’m joking, it’s from climbing. Core strength and back muscles keep you from falling when scaling overhangs.”

The baker let out a sigh of exasperation. “Good fucking grief, I better start asking Henrik for training sessions...”

The chat continued into the late morning while the two of the relocated to the gym for football drills, about sports and music taste; Bobby was one of his top 20 listeners on his R&B artist Spotify page and hadn’t realised because all of his EP covers never showed his face.

(He also, unfortunately, pulled the line about how Kassam was a Greek god after putting a face to the name Morpheus.) It was all in good banter, so Bobby got off almost scot free but ended up getting half a handprint’s worth of buttercream pied on his face while they were assembling their French pastries.

There was a loud cheer coming from the right garden entrance just as the duo were finishing their last macaron; Graham, Gary and Henrik charged back in at a light jog, looking suitably relaxed. The five girls showed up shortly after.

“Alright, lads?” The fisherman pumped his fist while running into the outdoor kitchen, coming to a stop at the counter. “The birthday boy wasn’t expecting treats this early.”

Kassam handed him a pastry. “Welcome to the later half of your 20s, sailor. Happy 25th.”

Graham grinned. “Thanks, Captain.” And he easily popped the whole macaron in his mouth, giving a thumb’s up while chewing.

Imane’s familiar dark hair peeked out from behind the ginger’s shoulders as she walked past him, holding a deck of black cards with glossy black foil starmaps on the backs. She strolled around the island corner and stopped just a small distance from the DJ, dressed in a dark green monokini and a La Selle Imaginaire silk scarf tied flatteringly around the bust like a tank top. There was a leather holster around her waist, dangling with a thin gold chain.

They smiled and embraced him. “Hi.” They smelled like the spa, and he pressed a kiss into her hair.

“Hi.” Kassam kissed her nose before pulling away, loosely winding an arm around their waist to still keep them close. “How was the ‘date’?”

There was the sound of chunky heels hitting the kitchen tiles across from them, and Lottie thumped her purple deck of cards down against the counter. “Elisa made us each do a horseshoe spread when we were getting pedicures... I’m very certain the nail techs were a little concerned.” She bit into a macaron and chewed. “She said Ane’s deck was really pretty but daunting, and I agree.”

He glanced down quickly at Imane’s feet, catching a glimpse of the new set of cream taupe lacquer on her toes. “The glossy starmaps look nice though.”

The brunette shuffled the deck cursorily and put them down on a clean kitchen towel; she pulled the top card to show off the art style. It was a Greek marble statue holding a rose in one hand and a scythe in the other, against a black laser-printed background. When she angled her hand a certain way, the laser-etched lettering of “DEATH” gleamed in the sunlight but was practically invisible staring at it dead-on.

“I can see why she would think that.” Kassam took the card from their fingers and inspected it, turning it to see the starmap and card design shimmer. “Did the reading go well?”

Imane nodded, taking a macaron and splitting it in half. “Of course, my deck gives accurate tellings if you listen to the cards instead of being intimidated.” She ate the smaller part, offering the rest to his lips.

He took it, kissing the spot on her thumb where there was smudged buttercream. “Mmm.” He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before speaking. “Can I get a three card reading about my love life?”

Their peachy lips curled. “Trying to hint at something, handsome?” She stole the card back from him and put it neatly into the stack, shuffling the deck again and spreading it out in a snake-like pattern. “Pick your poison.”

Kassam used his pointer and middle finger to pull out three adjacent cards from the middle; the starmaps twinkled at him.

“Alright,” she said while picking up the cards, still facing them downward. “The first card represents your past, the second represents your future and the third represents your present.” They flipped up the first card, letting him see the Two of Cups reversed. “A major heartbreak that led to trust and self esteem issues.”

He nodded. “Nothing of a surprise there.”

Her available hand lowered to give his a subtle squeeze before continuing, flipping over the upright Lovers card. “Oh... This is the best card to pull for love; it means you’ll find someone who matches you in your uniqueness, and that your relationship is built on trust and respect for each other.”

His eyes shifted to look at her face, seeing them meet his gaze. She shyly smiled at him and flipped over the last card: the Knight of Cups, upright.

“What does this one mean, love?” He watched them place it on the marble counter and felt his ears flush as her arms wrapped around his neck, their noses softly touching.

Imane bumped foreheads with him, giggling quietly. “We have something good going on.”

Lottie cleared her throat loudly, breaking the magic and causing both of them to turn their heads to see her rolling her eyes playfully while eating another macaron.

She grinned. “Don’t do kitchen bits right in front of me, you two.”

Kassam opened his mouth to speak, but Elisa’s sharp and loud voice from the beanbags interrupted him.

“Guys! I’ve got a text!”

He let out a sigh and pressed a soft kiss to Imane’s hair before returning to the posture of holding their waist. “Come on then.”

Elisa was lounging on a brilliantly pink beanbag, her gold bikini glinting in the sunlight that made her look like a beacon of light that everyone was assembling toward; from his peripheral as the three from the kitchen headed over to the poolside, he saw Marisol emerging from the roof terrace.

The tall social media influencer waited until everyone was gathered around her before reading the text. “’Islanders, it’s time to hear the goss your fellow villa mates have been saying about you, in a fun game of Shaken And Stirred. Elisa and Jo will be your hosts, and you will go one by one to determine who’s said what about you within the past week by throwing a drink in the other Islander’s face. For every Islander guessed correctly, you will gain one point; the person who gets the most correct will be rewarded. Head out of the villa; boys will be taking one Mercedes and girls will be taking another. Elisa and Jo, get into the Rolls-Royce. Kassam and Imane, you’re in the driver’s seat; we’re headed to the Bird House! #Let’sGetMessy #NaughtyOrNice.’”

Jo laughed. “I’ve never been this pampered in my life! Let’s get going.”

Henrik slung his arm over Kassam’s shoulder as they filed out of the villa garden gate. “Mate, you know how to left hand drive? Impressive.”

“Of course, I learned how to when my gigs started becoming more frequent in the Emirates.” The DJ opened the driver’s door of the first parallel parked G63, grabbing the remote fob from the leather seat. “Seatbelts on, lads!” He tossed the fob into the cupholder and pressed the roof button to fold it back behind the grilles, pulling up the GPS directions for the Bird House on the touchscreen. “I drive like a city boy, so prepare for the speed.”

Imane smiled crookedly at him once all the Islanders dismounted the G-Wagons, twirling their key fob around their pointer finger as they strutted over. “The look on your face when we passed you on the motorway was priceless.”

“Tokyo Drifting but in bulletproof monster cars.” Kassam kissed her forehead and returned her smile against their skin. “We caught up though.”

She giggled and took his hand, leading him up the various stairs that scaled the hill; the futuristic roof of the Mallorca Bird House peeked out as they headed up the last set of stairs. It looked exactly like the last time he’d done a gig there, except it wasn’t sundown yet.

Elisa and Jo were dressed in cocktail waitress outfits, standing behind the outdoor bar situated next to the pool. There were rows of colourful drinks in martini glasses lined up in front of them, and two white benches were placed in front of the glass barricade.

The influencer waved them over, smiling. “Welcome to E and J’s speakeasy! Girls, take a seat on the bench to the left. Boys, all on the right. Below the counter we have a bowl with slips of paper that have your names written on them; either Jo or I’ll raise a sign that has a quote from someone else who said something about you behind your back, and you throw a drink of your choice at the person you think said it out of the remaining 9 Islanders. If you’re right, you get a point; if you’re wrong, you still get to throw a drink at someone.” She showed off her pearly whites in an overdramatic show grin. “Ready?”

Kassam sat between Henrik and Graham. The fisherman gave his knee a comforting nudge.

Jo pulled out Priya’s name, and the Punjabi hopped onto her red strappies. She got 2 of her 5 correct, and when she was beginning to splash Imane in the face for the quote “Priya isn’t that bad of a person; don’t blame the circumstances on an individual when it's out of her control. You wouldn’t be saying this about her if she came in with us and you know that,” she apologised beforehand.

Imane laughed and shook out the pink water from their hair.

Bobby got 3 out of 5 correct, Henrik 2 out of 5.

When Marisol was up, Jo held up a board that said “Her level of self awareness definitely needs some work.”

She glared straight at him and tossed a green drink in his face; the water was colder than expected. He shook his head to get rid of the water and fix up his hair.

Bobby cackled when the board turned around and his name was written brazenly on the back. “Sorry for making you take a drink to the face, mate!”

Imane got a blue drink thrown at her for the quote “That double snog with Rocco was too much, what an absolute joke,” even though it had Lottie’s tonality written over it.

When Marisol picked up another drink at “She’s faker than my tits” and headed back for Imane, even when Priya's facial expression showed evident shock, Kassam spoke up.

“If you’re going to throw drinks at people you have grudges against, at least throw every single drink meant for Imane at me. Try harder to hide that fact.”

The dirty blonde gawked at him, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Throw every single drink you’re about to throw at them at me.” He met her gaze with almost steel-like intensity, unblinking. “If you’re going to be petty and not use logic at all, I’m okay with taking the punches for her.”

Lottie stuck her head out to look at him, her lower lip jutting out and brows raised. She looked impressed.

It didn’t take long for him to soldier a purple drink to the face. Graham grimaced and shook his head, disappointed.

”Sorry, Captain.” he whispered. “She’s being proper salty for no reason.”

Marisol got 1 out of 5 correct.

Maybe she wasn't that good of a judge on character as she thought she was.

Gary got another 2 out of 5; he had wrinkled his nose when Marisol’s “The secret kiss between Lottie and Gary shouldn’t have happened, especially because they actually don't have feelings for each other. I don't know how we just kind of glossed over that villa realisation so fast” got revealed.

“Kettle calling the pot black, eh?” The crane operator sneered, sitting down. “Rich.”

Elisa pulled Kassam’s name, and he got up popping his knuckles.

Jo held up a quote that read: “God, I can’t believe he dodged my kiss... making me look like a right fool and messing up my chance to win Lottie’s necklace.”

He took a red cocktail and glanced around the girls. “Well, there was that day in Casa Amor where two girls tried to kiss parts of me for whatever reason.” His eyes fell on Priya, who was smiling at him, then onto Chelsea, who was fidgeting with her fingers.

Chelsea yelped when the water hit her in the neck. “Did I actually say that?”

The BMX racer flipped over the board, displaying the interior decorator’s name in black marker loudly and proudly.

Priya laughed. “Don’t worry, Chels. Apparently neither of us got him.”

The next quote was: “Can you just shut the fuck up about him being ‘fake’? You had no issue with Noah being quiet, yet here you are blathering about how Kassam’s quietness irks you like a goddamn hypocrite!”

Kassam grinned, picked up a purple drink and sloshed it across Lottie’s face. “I could hear the Aussie in that. Cheers.”

He was right.

The next sentence was: “A DJ who drinks whiskey neats? This dude is like the Prince Naveen of DJs, yaldi.”

Bobby had already confessed in the beach hut that he was a Disney movie fanatic, so it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination that he’s said something about Kassam being Naveen. The caterer chortled and coughed, rubbing out the green water from his eyelashes. “I’m definitely not wrong about that, swear it on my life.”

The next one read: “He looks like he’s playing the game, Imane. You’ve no idea where he vanishes off to when all the others are chatting. I don’t even think you’re his type, hun.”

He immediately splashed Marisol in the face, keeping an even poker face as he tilted the empty cocktail glass at her in a mock cheer. “For someone who doesn’t seem to like me that much, I’m in your head quite a lot.”

She flushed and looked down, frowning.

The last quote said: “Blimey, I never realised how attractive a man becomes if he smells good but, like hoo-ey, that man is what the description of Tall, Dark and Handsome should smell of.”

Kassam grabbed a glass, this time pink, and sauntered over to the boys.

He splashed Henrik, and the longhaired blond spat out the water that got in his mouth when he was laughing.

Elisa turned the board around to reveal that Gary said it; the blond crane operator rubbed the back of his neck and smiled slightly.

“Still mean it, mate.”

Kassam gave him a cursory hair tousle and patted him on the back before returning the glass and sitting back down.

Lottie got 3 out of 5 of her quotes correct, Chelsea got another 2 out of 5.

Imane easily splashed Gary for the “I don’t think she likes simple guys but aren’t all of us in here simple lads? Well, apart from the posh bloke but he's gone and shot his shot. What type of guy is she even into?” comment, tossed a drink at Henrik’s chest for saying they were “so out of my league but on a friendship level we’re golden”, and splashed Priya who apparently wanted to steal her shoes.

She got “Imane's really... something else. I really like her energy, like almost everyone else here, and it's quite easy to talk to her which is always a good start” as her second to last quote, from when he was in the beach hut the day before the major post-Casa Amor dumping; it wasn’t rocket science for them to walk over to him holding a blue cocktail, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“Hi there, stranger.” Imane extended her arm and angled the glass so one drop of blue hit his shoulder and rolled down his pec. “This still counts as throwing a drink at him, right?”

Jo and Elisa looked at each other before the influencer said, “No it doesn’t! Do it for real!”

“At least you asked.” He grinned as the tidal wave of blue came splashing onto his face, wiping his face clean with a hand.

The last quote was most evidently said by Marisol: “I just wanted to warn you that getting your hopes up in Casa Amor on being with Imane isn’t doing you good once you’re back into the main villa.” They looked slightly disappointed while telling her to turn her head.

Gracious even to the undeserving.

Graham was the last to go, and he lumbered over to the bar. Kassam watched the quotes go by and heard the squeals and indignant yells when other Islanders got splashed, and tuned in again when Elisa held up the last quote: “I’m only cracking on with him to make someone else jealous. There’s nothing there.”

Silence. It was more unsettling than the ringing aura he’d get before a cluster migraine; he glanced over at the fisherman, who was taking up an orange cocktail and slowly heading over to his partner.

Marisol looked more worried than sorry. “Babe, I can explain...”

“Don’t need an explanation.” The ginger’s pointer finger, while holding the full glass, stuck out at her. “You’ve made your bed; now fucking lie in it.”

He watched as orange washed over her face and hair, and then turned his head. Graham set the cocktail glass down and sat on the bench, shoulders slumped.

Kassam put a hand on his back and gently patted him. “Give me a holler if you need someone to chat to when we’re in the villa again.”

“Thanks, sailor. I appreciate it.”

There was a ding from his left, and Imane pulled out her phone.

“’Congratulations, Imane and Graham, for getting all of your answers correct. You will know your individual reward in the coming days, but as a small treat, head to the swing bed for a nice refreshing afternoon tea. #ChinUp #SweetAndSour.’”

The DJ leaned toward Henrik and whispered, “You wouldn’t mind swapping seats with Graham for the drive back, would you?”

The blond shook his head, poking his lower lip out. “Nope, I think he needs it to be quite frank.” He smiled. “Imane’s pretty good at reading people emotionally, so I reckon he’ll calm down talking to her later.”

“Good shout. I’ll be in the kitchen making a spanking good lunch.” He got up and took the key fob from his swim trunk pocket, shaking his head. “I have a feeling we’re getting our first fight in a long time tonight.”

His phone rang as he was changing into evening wear, showing the junior producer’s caller ID. Kassam grabbed it from his vanity, accepted the call and balanced it between his shoulder and ear to keep buttoning his dress shirt. “Yes, hello?”

“Hi, Kassam. We’ve got bad news; the DJ that was meant to come for this week’s big club event cancelled last minute.” The producer’s voice crackled. “Would you mind doing a replacement gig? We can get you set up with all the equipment you need.”

“Danny, you’re asking me to be a talent and a contestant?” He sighed, fixing the watch strap around his right wrist. “Am I getting monetary compensation for my labour, at least? I haven’t done a free gig in years.”

“I know it’s asking a lot of someone, but you’re our best bet. The DJ that bailed’s rate was 225k for the 3 hours, so we can offer that as a base and toss in another 25k to make it an even 250 for the late notice. We can also give you a night in the Hideaway for your efforts.” Danny laughed. “That’s in your usual range, innit?”

Kassam spritzed his wrists with cologne. “And when is this event happening?”

“In two days.”

“Two days?” He held the phone in one hand while shrugging one arm into a leather jacket. “So you’re telling me I’m holing myself into a corner where no one can find me while on holiday to crunch.”

The producer cackled. “I’m sure the other Islanders would understand. I’ll give you access to the Hideaway for tomorrow; we’ll sort out your equipment in the outdoor patio, monitors and everything. You can even use the hot tub to cool off for breaks. There’s no particular theme, but there will be LED beams and we're doing our best to create a nightclub vibe, so sort out your track list accordingly. Is Google’s answer for what headset you use accurate? The Crossfade M100?”

“I already brought my pair, so don’t worry about it. Are you putting cameras to watch me work or something?” He fixed the lapels on his jacket, pacing around the dressing room.

“We’ll keep it to a minimum, two at most. I’ll try to convince the camera crew to put only one in.” There was a small pause. “Do you want us to tell Imane that you’ll be busy tomorrow afternoon?”

Kassam thumbed over the small curl that was slowly growing back into his hair pattern. “No, I’ll do that myself. You’ve got a deal; just get the wire transfer going as soon as possible. Also ring Seira to let her know about it beforehand, since she lists all my gigs.”

“Thanks a bunch and will do, production is now 250k poorer but this is why we’ve got sponsors. I’ll let you catch up with the others anyhow. Have a good one, Kassam.”

He returned the au revoir and slipped the phone into his back pocket, tucking out of the room and looking to his left at the figure waiting for him.

Imane was standing there leaning their shoulder against the wall, pouting her peachy brown lips. The dark green silk of her ruched mini dress made their eyes appear golden, and she smiled.

“I was looking for you, handsome.” She reached out their hand to pull him in closer. “Graham and Marisol are fighting outside, but luckily they don’t seem to move around as much as Hope and Noah did. Do you want to stay indoors and have a little evening tea with me, or did you plan on drinking?”

He shook his head and kissed her nose. “Tea sounds lovely. actually. Graham did get that luxury before I did.” His lips curled and planted more kisses on her cheek and jaw, making her giggle. “I need to play catch-up.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She softly kissed him, holding the back of his neck and rubbing gently, and pulled away to hold his hand. “Come on, there’s a spot next to the lounge that no one uses but it’s well cosy. Lottie calls it the viper den because I’m the only one who uses it.” They wiped the corner of his lips and started leading him to the small set of wood doors near the lounge.

It was a small smoke room, backlit with soft purple oil diffusers that made the room smell like sage and frankincense. There was a small bamboo tea tray fully set up with a glass tea set, the teapot having flower petals and ginger shavings and sprigs of mint leaf, in front of a cosy rocking daybed fitted with a light silk blanket and throw pillows.

Kassam jumped onto the bed, rocking it side to side, and offered her a hand to climb up without losing her balance; she took it and easily slipped close to him.

“I made ginger peach and mint tea to help wind me down for bed. My mum always used to make it for me when I couldn't sleep or felt restless, and I'm a creature of habit.” Imane took off her black Ecrin 90 heels before pouring them both a cup; she offered him the one in their left hand and slung her legs across his lap comfortably. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I happened to overhear something about you getting a gig for this week, handsome.”

“Mmhmm.” He took a sip of his tea; the warmth of the ginger hugged his tongue while the flavours of peach and earthy minty pine washed down. It was pleasant. “I’m going to need to disappear for a few hours after breakfast tomorrow so I can select tracks. Apparently the DJ for the next big party bailed so I’m the unlucky fill.” He kissed her available hand and gave their knuckles a soft rub. “It’s unfortunate but we make due with what we can. I’m sorry that I won’t be able to spend that much time with you tomorrow.”

They sipped on their tea and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “It’s alright, as long as you come to bed with me I won’t make a fuss about it.” They flushed a shy and pretty medium rose. “I just don’t want you to overwork yourself especially when you’re here.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re so cute. Apart from sometimes forgetting to eat, I’m good when it comes to pre-gig DJ obligations. I only pull serious all-nighters when composing original music.”

“I can make you lunch, if you’d like.” She crossed her right leg over their left, purring when his hand found the side of their mid-thigh. “I was planning on making some Nagoya ramen tomorrow but if you want something else, tell me.”

His heart squeezed uncomfortably tight, thudding against his ribcage.

None of his exes ever offered to make food for him.

He cleared his throat. “I’d... like that. Thank you, love.”

“You got a little shy.” Imane smiled and sipped their tea, gently carding through his hair. “You’re really cute when you blush, especially here and here.”

She poked the tops of his cheeks, and Kassam felt himself blush even more at the contact.

He pinched the bridge of his nose to subtly hide his face behind a hand. “Ahem. Consider it a compliment, since it’s hard for my complexion to show a blush... You have a type of girlfriend charm to you.”

“A sweet girl-next-door look about me?” Her cheeks, too, turned slightly rosy and she held her teacup to their lips. “Thank you, handsome.”

Their fingers intertwined, and for a moment they took the time to finish their tea with the comfort of each other’s presence.

“I never got to ask you on our speed date how you got on the show,” he murmured as he set down their second cups of tea. “Applied for it yourself, got scouted, knew a link to the production team?”

She twiddled with his fingers, playing with the knuckles and dorsal joints. “I got scouted by an agent when I was in Dubai in the winter during holiday. Stella was the one who convinced me to go through with it, but in the beginning I didn’t want to since my personality isn’t well-suited for reality telly.” They pouted. “I usually like to keep to myself or hang out with a small group and not be in the middle of drama. Conflicts are okay but I prefer not to be in petty cat fights or like to pick up after other people's problems, since that's welfare's job and not mine. I don’t know what the agent really saw in me in particular to be so insistent on me being on the big screen.”

“Well, on first impressions you’re pretty, intelligent, well-mannered.” He shrugged. “Well-dressed and mysterious don’t do any harm either. With you in the OGs, you siphoned in a whole new demographic of people to watch British reality telly.”

Imane perked up, blushing and continuing to play with his long fingers. “When you put it like that... I suppose you’re right.” She smiled. “Did you get scouted too?”

Kassam shook his head. “My sister sent in a joke application for me and also convinced me to send in a video application after I got a callback. Then again, the producers have tried to scout me for months by hounding my DMs or calling my manager, but I kept leaving them on read.”

“Nadia sounds like an absolute charmer for sure.” They pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad she pressured you into being here.”

She remembered her name.

“Mm, more like bullied me into being here.” He chuckled and kissed her, feeling their hands fall against his neck and purring at the contact. “Trying your luck at making me fold and calling you My Lady?”

“No,” she whispered against his lips. “I just wanted to see what my hands would look like as a necklace, but hearing you call me My Lady would be an added bonus.” They looked down, smiled and slid their hands onto his chest innocently. “Do you have any pets back home?”

His hand reached out to take a small section of their hair to twirl it in between his fingers. “I have a blue Abyssinian named Altair, just about to turn 3 in a few months. She was abandoned in the streets of Casablanca when I found her after a set and she’s been with mostly me ever since.” He kissed the hair section and continued forming an infinity symbol between his fingers. “How about you? I had the notion you’re more of a cat person.”

“You’re not wrong.” She winked and poked her tongue out past their lips. “I’ve a black smoke American Shorthair, Egyptian Mau tabby mix named Jourdain. She’s shy of 5 but I’ve only had her for a year; I went to the local shelter and she grabbed my finger through her kennel and that’s when I knew I wanted to take her home.” Her eyes twinkled. “You might have seen a picture of me kissing Nadim’s cat, Percy. He’s a toasted brown cat that has the face of a teddy bear and a bushy fox tail.”

“That I remember. Percy’s a cute cat.” Kassam used a forearm to shift them closer to him, gently rubbing their hip and giving the top of their head an affectionate peck. “Altair’s been getting restless being an only child but she’s very happy being in my home studio watching all of the colours go by, and she sits in her cat tower watching me game like she’s birdwatching.”

Hazel eyes widened. “You game?” They smiled and rubbed the back of her hand against his jaw. “Do you play FPS?”

He kissed her nose and bumped foreheads with them. “I play a specific FPS game with my DJ friends and uni mates to catch up, sometimes to participate in charity events. I already have the tech for my job, so I repurpose it to have fun too. Just to keep the work/fun relationship separate I have different lighting to help the room feel different.”

“Does the game start with a V?” Imane giggled when he nodded. “What rank are you?”

“Immortal 1. I main Cypher and Omen, but I can do with Brim if no one else can be Controller.”

Her lips formed a small O before they returned to their usual soft pout. “You’re really impressive, handsome. I main Sage and Viper, and I downranked into Diamond 2 from Dia 3.”

He smiled crookedly, leaning in and planting a soft kiss, relishing in the warmth and reciprocation. “We should play some time on the outside, love.”

She tilted his chin and kissed him again, their lips teasing and pleading for his attention, before pulling away and resting her nose in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“I’d like that.”

He remembered to take a break from the floating colours in his head while listening to tracks when Imane brought lunch for both of them into the Hideaway; his synaesthesia made it hard for him to naturally snap himself out of work mode until everything was finished, but his nose smelling the ramen from a few metres away made it easier just this once to peel the headphones off from his ears.

She was smiling the entire time he wolfed down his bowl.

“[Is my cooking that good, my soul?]”

“[It’s hitting the spot for sure. Thank you, my light.]”

They left him alone after reapplying sunscreen to his face with a cushion puff and giving him a kiss.

He swiped the last song from the computer into the laptop and took off his headphones to hear knocking on the door.

Graham was standing there, a slight upturn of his lips present. “Hey, recoupling is in an hour with The Monk. Imane said I’d find you in here.”

“Thanks for grabbing me, mate.” Kassam followed him out. “How are you feeling?”

“Set on my mind after saying my piece to Marisol last night, especially since she couldn’t understand what the idea of personal space was and kept badgering me until I snapped.” He rolled his eyes. “Chatting to Imane was nice yesterday afternoon... She’s really something, behind all that quietness and aloofness. I see why you rate them so much now; personality-wise, you two are like this, Captain.” He crossed his middle finger over his pointer, laughing when he saw the DJ’s eyes lock onto his. “I’m not into her like that, swear on my life. My eyes are set on someone else.”

He grinned and held the communal dressing room door open. “I never said you were, sailor.”

Gary caught sight of the two of them while fixing up an acid wash denim jacket. “Alright, lads? I was wondering when we’d need to play Hide and Go Seek to find you in the villa, Kassam.”

“If the entire villa was playing, you all are terrible seekers.” Kassam pulled his hoodie off over his head, wandering over to his vanity and grabbing the small bottle of mouth wash and walking over to the sink on the left. “What did you lads get up to?”

Henrik shrugged into a muscle t-shirt. “What else is there to do except graft and have boy chats? The girls were doing dives into the pool, looking like proper mermaids.”

He turned his back to rinse his mouth just as Bobby piped up with “We probably looked like seals on the sand, just staring at them with jaws on the floor.”

“Oh shut it, Maccys. Talk for yourself.” Gary hollered. “Looking at Lottie like you’ve been starved out of brekkie.”

He let the lad chat ramble on and spat out his mouthwash, turning on the tap to make the purple liquid disappear down the drain. His eyes caught sight of Henrik scanning over his back in the mirror.

“Checking out my back piece, mate?” He saw Henrik tense up like a child who got caught trying to take candy off the shelf and smiled. “I paid a lot of money for it, so it’s nice to get some appreciation.”

The climber flushed pink and looked at him from between his fingers. “Yeah, I just kinda realised your tattoos are completely opposite of someone who was in the villa. Like, your arm bands are on your left.”

“You know you can say his name in front of me.” Kassam smiled and walked over to his clothes rack. “I know it’s tough to see people you entered the villa leave without you.”

Henrik sat down at his vanity, with the little bronze miniature of a chalk bag and climbing harness, sorting out his shoelaces. “Yeah, I’ve got no issue getting on with the boys here and I reckon I’m more of a lad’s lad than Lucas would be if he were the one to stay since he was a bit judgemental. The bloke told me that I was too willing for people to step over me and that I needed more of a spine, and I really appreciated that about him." His lips puckered and twisted. "Took a bit of a blunder with the whole Stick or Switch schtick, but that’s part of the fun of climbing, and besides, it brought me closer to someone else in here. And hell, you got brought back here; you and Graham really spruce up the entire place nicely.”

He started buttoning himself into a dark blue pinstripe dress shirt, feeling the Merino wool hug his skin. “I definitely feel like Lucas and I would butt heads more than you and me, so I’m grateful that you’re in here.”

“Oh, no doubt about it.” The blond covered his mouth from both sides with his hands and mouthed “I think I like you better, but don’t tell anyone I said that” before vocalising again. “You two are the most stubborn men I’ve ever met in my life, except you say it straight or say nothing at all. Catch my vibe?”

“100 percent.” Kassam swapped his joggers for cream chinos and slid into his black and grey trainers, sitting down next to Henrik to tie his laces. “No tension in the villa after last night’s meltdown?”

Henrik shrugged and ran a comb through his hair. “As much as Graham exploded, I think all everyone apart from Marisol understood why and seemed to back him. Getting pied off all in the name of sticking it on someone else like you’re not a human being with emotions is the worst thing that can happen in here, and especially brutal when it’s revealed to everyone at the same time as you on your birthday. The girls weren’t icing the lass out by any means, but she probably felt ashamed or something. She kind of kept to herself all day.” He exhaled and smoothed out his shirt. “Whatever happens, I doubt they’re going to stay a couple tonight after Marisol sent that ship crashing into the rocks.”

He secured his watch onto his wrist, opening his drawer to pull out a bottle of unused cologne and whistling to catch the other’s attention before tossing it over. “Here, mate. Le Labo’s Bergamote 22 would suit you more than it suits me. Spritz some for good luck tonight.” He smiled. “Keep the bottle. The duty-free store at the airport gave it as a plus one and I'm never going to use it anyway.”

Blue eyes widened at the name brand, but a smile soon got returned. “Mate... I’m never throwing this bottle away, swear it on my life. Thanks, Kassam.”

The DJ spritzed his usual fragrance and busied himself with smudging black eyeliner against the outer third of his eyes before the five boys all filed out into the back garden, which was transformed into a starry evening theme with rows of string lights hanging overhead.

The girls were waiting for them by the firepit; his mouth almost fell open when he saw Imane wearing a black lace corset tucked away into flared trousers with a long side slit to expose her legs. When he got closer, he noticed the yellow gold Serpenti Viper necklace resting against the hollow of her throat, glittering against her brown skin.

Imane turned to look at him, a slow smile forming at the corner of her lips. “Here, handsome.” Their beige and gold Eden heels clicked as she handed him a glass of whiskey, neat like usual, and she clinked her glass of pineapple juice and tequila with his. “You know how people say that blue eyes are cold?” Her nose crinkled, the glow of the overhead lights making them look ethereal. “Yours are so warm to me.”

His heart almost imploded from between his ribs, the strange butterflies in his stomach returning, and he blinked rapidfire at the compliment that wasn’t even said in a flirtatious way. The bridge of his nose seemed to warm, and he cleared his throat.

“I, uh... That’s the first time I’ve heard that ever. Thank you.”

“You’re very cute when you’re shy.” She giggled and gave him a peck on the lips. “Your eyes remind me of the blue in the Persian Gulf, full of life and homeliness.”

The butterflies thudded against his diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him for a moment. It was like they were the only two in the garden, and their earnest gaze made his throat dry and tighten.

He could only fix a stray piece of hair behind her ear and pray that he wasn’t fully red in the face.

Kassam took a sip of his whiskey to make his vocal cords work again. “Yours remind me of the sun.”

It was especially true when she was wearing green eyeshadow; they looked like melted pots of gold light, swirling with specks of emerald and topaz and tiger iron and moonstone.

Imane blushed, her glossy brown lips pressing together just barely before they hid their face behind a hand.

Were they just as taken away by him as he was by them?

Heel clicks from the gate of the garden interrupted his thoughts, and Sophie Monk strutted down the edge of the pool dressed in all white. She waved at all the Islanders and stopped by the left side of the firepit.

“Long time no see. Elisa and Jo, as the new arrivals to the villa, please join me. You will be picking who you’d like to couple up with first.”

The new Bombshells walked away from the group and turned around on the wooden deck to face the others.

“Elisa, please step forward and choose the person you would like to couple with.”

The tall girl stepped forward and rested a hand casually on her hip, a quaint but mysterious smile on her face. “I’m going to be very honest here, I genuinely didn’t think I would rate this person as someone I’d potentially see myself with until Jo decided to haul him out for a double threeway date..." She smiled, an amused twist to her lips. "Well, it was a threeway date for her and I just wanted to chat with girls I knew I liked from the get-go. He’s well charming and very kind-hearted, and seeing him stand his ground last night was quite hot if I’m being 100 percent. He might just be the pirate to my mermaid, who knows?”

He knew where it was going.

The influencer flexed her fingers and tapped her chin. “So, the boy I’d like to couple up with is Graham.”

“Took my earlier criticism of me not really being prince material into account, Eli?” The ginger bounded over and gave the back of her hand a gentle kiss. “I rate that.”

For some reason, seeing the two of them standing next to each other wasn’t that jarring. Elisa looked right, tall and commanding and femme fatale, next to someone as rugged as Graham.

Sophie grinned. “How are you feeling, being picked over all the others, Casa Lad Number One? Feel like the prize catch of the day?”

“I’m over the moon, Soph.” The fisherman wrapped his arm around Elisa’s waist and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “We’ve got a lot more in common than what meets the eye, and I’m excited to see where this goes.”

“Glad to hear that, Graham. You two can have a seat at the firepit.”

They moved to the end of the firepit, furthest from Marisol.

“Jo, please step forward and choose the person you’d like to couple up with.”

The biker stepped forward in her red pumps, grinning ear to ear at her fellow Bombshell. “To start off with, I don’t regret taking out any of the guys out on my dates because they’re all wonderful fellas. I’m kind of intimidated by mean and strong-looking men who, like, are super quiet.” She shot him a look. “No offence, Kassam.”

“None taken.” He tilted his head to the side and shrugged.

“Like Elisa, I was surprised to see how well I got on with this boy during our date. He’s super funny, and he laughs at my really dumb jokes but understands my humour to a T. I’m real excited to see if there’s a real spark between us and he’s a big family guy, which I rate, so the boy I would like to couple up with is Gary.”

The crane operator jogged over and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Sophie looked impressed as she clapped along with the other Islanders. “These Bombshells really are coming in hot, aren’t they? Hot peppers indeed.” She smiled and cleared her throat. “Now that the new arrivals have their picks, we have more girls than boys left. This time, the boys hold all the power. Girls, please come stand by me and turn to face the firepit. Boys, have a seat.”

Imane squeezed his hand before following the other girls to the host; she stood in between Marisol and Chelsea.

“The public have been voting for the boy they most want to find love in the villa, and before any of you pipe up about unbalanced follower counts... we had a voting cap particularly put on one boy to make things even.” She winked at Kassam. “However even with that voting cap, Kassam, you have been voted the boy the UK would most like to see find love in here. Please stand up and choose the girl you’d like to couple up with and why.”

He stood up, feeling the warmth of the fire, and softly exhaled. The butterflies had calmed down, but there was a persistent one that kept fluttering about around in his stomach and wouldn’t leave him alone. At this point, it was feeling more and more like a moth.

“To be honest, when I first came to Casa Amor I was fully preparing myself to be packing my bags and flying back to London because I’m quite the prickly sort who’s very slow to opening up." He breathed out of his mouth to calm his nerves. "I don’t necessarily believe in ‘that spark’ or love at first sight when it comes to myself, but this woman’s been very close to proving me wrong.” His eyes met Imane’s, and the moth in his stomach fluttered again. “She’s been ticking boxes I never thought I’d have in this lifetime and I hope I tick as many boxes for her too. I want to see where we can go in here and on the outside.

“The girl I’d like to recouple with is Imane.”

The brunette beamed and met him halfway, planting a soft but meaningful kiss against his lips as he wrapped an arm around their waist.

Sophie was smiling, eyes crinkled while she clapped with the others. “Well isn’t this a surprise? Who would’ve guessed this would be the outcome?” The Islanders chuckled. “Clearly, everyone’s not surprised at all.” She looked at the girl beside him. “Imane, does Kassam tick as many boxes for you like you do for him?”

Imane sipped on their drink and rubbed his side. “I meant it when I said Casa Amor treated me nicer than I thought it would. It’s still early days but every new day I come to learn something about him that makes me feel like I’m punching above my weight.”

“I think it’s about time I make it known I rate humility.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not out of your league, love.”

Graham grinned at him, and Sophie aww’ed.

“You two have a seat next to Gary and Jo. Let’s congratulate... re-congratulate? Kassam and Imane!”

Kassam let his partner slide next to Jo before he sat down.

Henrik had been voted the second boy the public wanted to see most fall in love, and after a lighthearted but very meaningful short speech he chose Priya; she was ecstatic and giddily ran up to hug him.

“I know you get cold feet when things get serious, babes. I’m the guy you need to go with the flow.”

Priya gave his hair a sniff and laughed. “Oh, just you wait until we’re alone, monkey man... You smell delicious.”

Bergamote 22 did smell great on him.

The climber slid next to him and gave him a low five.

Bobby was the last boy standing up there, and he breathed out before making a short and sweet speech on how he’s developed feelings for someone that he was coupled up beforehand with on a friendship basis and chose Lottie.

Marisol and Chelsea stood before them as the unpicked girls, nervously shifting around.

“Chelsea. Marisol.” Sophie looked at them. “As the two new singles of the villa, you two are vulnerable. The good news is you will not be dumped tonight and are allowed to stay in the villa. Please use this time wisely to graft, or you may be facing being dumped at a later time. For now, that’s all from me. Have a good night, everyone!”

The Islanders waved the host off, and immediately Marisol turned to Graham, who was about to walk away to the kitchen with Elisa.

“Are you happy now that you’ve fucked me over?”

Graham simply turned his head while still walking. “If we never were an actual thing in your head, how can things be over between us? Cool it before you make a fool out of yourself!”

And that was it from him. Bobby made a head signal for him and Imane to follow the four of them into the kitchen.

Lottie got busy pulling out the bartending tray onto the kitchen island. “Well, that’s over and done with. What goes around really comes back fucking around.” She smiled. “She’s getting her dues for meddling with Hope and trying to ice you out for so long, Ane.”

“The world balances itself out in more ways than one.” Imane shrugged, leaning into Kassam’s side and calmly sipping her drink. “We don’t always need to be the one to initiate that energy, see?”

The blonde stuck out her tongue. “Yeah, ever since calming down I scored this good cookie so I reckon I’m doing alright.” She pointed at Bobby, who was pulling out doughnuts from the oven. “Goth girlfriend and golden retriever boyfriend situation going on here.”

"It's the classic friends to one-sided crush to requited lovers pipeline for us, Lo." The caterer grinned, laughing when his partner leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. "The dolphin cupcakes got to you in the end, huh?"

"You're cute when you're not trying to be a lad, Bibi." The blonde rolled her eyes and set to work with her cocktail.

Elisa smiled as she turned around with two highball glasses, setting one in front of the makeup artist. "Couple nicknames already, you two? Someone come and lock up the sugar because it's already too tooth-achingly sweet in here." She winked across the counter at Kassam and Imane. "And of course, you two staying the only remaining couple from Stick and Switch also deserves some applause. You two look so good together."

His partner snuggled into his front, letting him tuck his chin against her shoulder. "A man like him's hard to come by once in a lifetime, never mind twice. I would have been a fool to wait for a third time."

The remaining four looked over at them, shocked.

Bobby wiggled his finger at them two, his mouth slightly open. "You two knew each other before Love Island? What a character plot you two have, holy shit."

Kassam shrugged, raising his whiskey to his lips. "We matched on a dating app two years ago, but nothing came out of it because I wasn't in the headspace for a serious relationship." He looked over at the fisherman who nodded and made a subtle hand gesture to signal he caught the drift. "I suppose it was 'right person at the wrong time' then."

"Fate works its magic regardless, so now we're here." She turned her head to give him a chaste kiss on the lips, and he could feel their smile against his even when she pulled away. "I argue we're more well-suited for each other now than two years ago."

He hummed in agreement, fixing her hair behind an ear before turning his attention back to the group. "I'm honestly just glad we're not getting another big fight tonight after yesterday." A subtle smirk came onto his face. "I'm glad someone more suited came into the villa for you, Casa Lad Number One."

"It's not like Marisol and I were getting along like a house on fire in Casa Amor either, but I'm not about to get mugged off at every chance she's given. Not like I'm gonna cry over a hole in a net when a brand new one came in that I know will work better for me simply looking at her, you know." Graham cackled and popped the cap off his beer. “Marisol tries so hard to be Scary Spice but it’s real laughable when she’s in the wrong. I've never met a woman that so confidently tells me I'm wrong for being upset then gets embarrassed when I clear her by a landslide in an argument she started.” He glanced around when all eyes in the kitchen fell on him. “What? Elisa was talking about the Spice Girls during our double date.”

“Only as a trade off, since I needed to preserve my girly side after letting this biggin know I fish on Mondays with my pops and know how to rig sails.” The influencer laughed, fixing herself a gin and tonic. “Lottie in my head definitely used to be Scary Spice, but now that she’s mellowed out there’s no way she’s not Sporty Spice. And you, Miss Karim, have always been Posh Spice. I really want to raid your closet.”

Imane giggled, reaching behind them to rub Kassam’s jaw. “I was more of a Bratz girl so if Posh Spice is like Yasmin and Dana, you’re correct.”

“A vice and perk of being Arab is always putting your best foot forward when it comes to wardrobe.” He chuckled and kissed her hair, the moth still busy fluttering around his stomach. “The aunties are ruthless if you dress less than impressive.”

He felt the heel of their shoe slowly trail up the side of his calf, the metal roses and leaves lighting up a small fire in his belly, and he looked at her to see them calmly engaging in conversation with the others. The moth finally settled down, appeased by the flame.

She turned and smiled cheekily at him, winking.

“You wouldn’t mind us sleeping outside with you two tonight, would you?” Elisa easily downed the rest of her G&T. “I don’t like sticking it on someone when they’ve already been through enough, but I still like to get what I want... and I’m just the tiniest bit loud.”

Lottie high-fived her, grinning over her shaken apple cocktail.

Kassam let a sly smile slip onto his face. “I don’t think the four of us can fit on one bed.” When Graham opened his mouth, he snickered and raised his whiskey. “All jokes, there are more daybeds for a reason. Have your pick, except the one right next to ours. I’d like to go another night not seeing any other body parts or hearing from either of you.”

The sound of the Spanish drizzle hitting the roof was comforting when he was listening to it post-shower; the Algerian took the time after drying his hair to watch the shadows of the raindrops falling through the frosted glass window in the changing room, lowering his head and closing his eyes to murmur his biweekly prayers.

Blue eyes opened, his hands feeling lighter and cleaner after having whispered "[Peace and blessings of God be unto you]" twice.

Kassam sighed and got up, shouldering into a fitted cream hoodie and black pyjama pants. He walked out of the room and found Chelsea nervously waiting outside, in her pink sleepwear set.

"Hi?" His expression slightly softened to ease her nerves but he didn't smile, and he leaned against the wall. "What can I do for you?"

The short blonde put a brave face on, shoulders squaring. "I just wanted to say sorry for what I tried to do in Casa Amor. The challenge yesterday jogged my memory, and I didn't realise that what I said was really putting my feelings before yours. You were the one who dodged an unwanted kiss, not me." She breathed out dramatically like she was relieved. "Your boundaries were overstepped, so I thought it would be best that I apologise even if you weren't expecting one. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm really sorry. I kinda disregarded your feelings all for a piece of jewellery, which was out of line."

The Algerian stood there, body still, tongue in cheek. A brow raised and his lips pursed.

"I accept your apology. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me one on one, Chelsea." A soft smile graced his features, which the girl seemed visibly relaxed by. "Have a good night; I'll see you tomorrow."

She said good night back to him, withdrawing into the communal bedroom and waving before closing the doors behind her, and he made his way to the back garden. The sound of rain washed over him as he slid the door shut, and he took it in with Imane's quiet singing from the kitchen.

"Lately, I've been seeking clarity / The meaning of it's hard to see, your pleasure's got me slipping... / This heartache got me missing, the pressure had me wishing that pain would just let me be..."

He quietly walked along the boarding, spotting the daybed Elisa and Graham chose a ways from theirs fully zipped up with the waterproof curtains the producers put out for the two couples, and made his way toward the kitchen counter his partner was sitting at with her back toward him.

"Hoping I'll find my peace again / I want you to stay with me. / I'm on my knees, but I gotta sacrifice my needs..." Her pretty voice singing in Cm6 blended with the rain to create the effect of familiar melancholia, drawing him closer in. "You are my therapy, and I can't believe your effect on me, ooh..."

Blue eyes took in the sight of them dressed in taupe lace lingerie, a thin gold chain hugging her waist and leading his gaze to sweep downward to their dark coffee-coloured stockings, then the delicate dark nude and gold Eden pumps on her feet. Her hair was twisted into a loose updo, secured with a butterfly hair claw.

There was something so homely about looking at her backside, when she didn't know he was there.

"On nights where I'd be alone, where I couldn't prepare, I feel your presence is closer than air..." Imane was preoccupied with reading spreads on an identical tarot deck to the one she showed the morning before, except this one was a rich blood red instead of black. "On nights where I'd be alone, where I couldn't prepare, I feel your presence is closer than air..."

Kassam rested his forearm against the countertop closest to the sink, leaning his cheek against his other palm to admire her from a distance.

"Every time I think of you, my mind goes to press rewind. / Bittersweet in my memories, underneath were all the signs. I knew it was time to let you go. / Too many factors out of my control..." The key changed to Fm6 as she gathered the card spread and shuffled them back into the deck, her silhouette sweetly calling out to him. "Oh, how it hurts to hear you break down, / oh how I cry, you're no longer around. / Facing reality, on my knees... My heart is priority."

He kept listening as her singing transformed into soft humming of the melody, his chest warm as she looked toward the pool and the full moon shyly peeking out from the bed of sheer glowing clouds, their hands lifting a teacup to hold close.

"You're very pretty, you know." The Algerian finally let his presence be known, straightening to walk over to the cupboard for a glass cup.

Imane turned her head to him, lips curling when they made eye contact. "And you're very quiet. How long have you been there, handsome?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, making his way to the fridge and pouring himself peppermint tea. "A while." He closed the metal door and saddled up on the high stool next to them. "Trying your luck to read your future with tarot tonight?"

"Not necessarily, but still I like to keep casual reads for myself separate from the deck I use for other people. My favourite colour's red, especially this shade, so I got this set specifically commissioned." She smiled and slid the blood-coloured cards over to him. "The rain made me nostalgic, especially with the drizzle; it's nice to listen to while reflecting on some things." They took a sip of her tea. "I like to be alone with my thoughts here and there."

"My dad always said that drizzles are the best weather because it's a gift from the heavens to replenish the earth, especially because we lived in the desert. I'd always run around outside whenever it drizzled as a kid and get a cold, then a fever." Kassam chuckled and raised his cup to his lips. "I'd still do it the next time, and the next time after that. My immune system's strong as a boulder now, I'd like to think because of my stubborn childhood antics."

The Lebanese laughed, nudging into his side and watching him shuffle the deck like he was playing Blackjack and easily snap the cards back into shape to lay on the table. "Can I ask about your family, Sammi?"

"Sure." He let them loop her arms around his bicep and felt a wave of calmness wash over him when she rested a cheek against his shoulder. "What do you want to know?"

"How did your parents meet?" She picked up the first facedown card from the deck: an upright Three of Wands.

"My parents met like any cliché romance; my mum was the bedside nurse who took care of my dad when he got injured during an allied deployment to Morocco. They fell in love and had me out of wedlock, but married when I was three or four months in the womb after my dad apparently sent flowers to my maternal grandmum every single day for two months straight as repentence and got her permission." He flipped over the next card: an upright Page of Cups. "My mum still has their wedding photos and she didn't even have a baby bump at the time. Eight years later, they had Nadia and then three years after that, they had Rayan."

She hummed, thumb rubbing along his arm soothingly. "I'm assuming something happened to your papa, the way you're talking about them and your mum's wedding photos."

"You're intuitive." The Algerian kissed the top of her head, picking up the next card: a reversed Ten of Cups. "He and Rayan died the day after I turned twelve when the city we were living in got raided. My mum, Nadia and I came to England as refugees seeking asylum; Nadia fortunately wasn't old enough to remember what happened, so she thought I was being weird for not liking my birthday even though for the first two years I thought if I prayed hard enough and fasted on that day, my dad would come back." He exhaled a short breath from his nose. "When I turned nineteen, I got drafted and did just over a year and a half in the ANF because I qualified to serve and my dad was a very respected Lieutenant, then got discharged since I got a full ride to university back in England and my mum put her foot down that she didn't want her only remaining son to die the same way she became a widow and lost a baby. She didn't want me to die fighting for a cause that stole my childhood from me."

Imane stopped breathing, looking up at him with a sheen of incredulity in hazel eyes. "Sammi, what? They drafted you to serve because of your dad?"

"Chivalry culture runs rampant. I couldn't go a week without some of the senior officers pulling me aside just to look at me; I was almost a spitting image of the man they knew, just with my mum's eyes." He shrugged, gently carding through her hair. "The good thing is that the military taught me a lot of self-discipline and drive, and I luckily never saw anything extremely traumatic during my time there that I hadn't seen six years beforehand. I already was pretty entrenched in my path toward music before university, and with the cheques from the Navy I was able to get my foot in the door as a DJ and start booking flights no 20 year old had business having that much money for and pay for therapy at the same time while going to one of the most prestigious schools in the country for a handsome stipend if I maintained good marks, so the veteran status proved useful in the end."

She huffed, a gentle hand caressing his jaw, before leaning in and kissing his cheek. The gesture was kind and sweet, warming the patch of skin under her lips.

"You turned out okay," she whispered against him, her eyes holding his gaze.

The Algerian smiled and tilted his head to capture her lips, tasting the floral and earthiness of hibiscus tea on her tongue. He closed his eyes and indulged in their affection before bumping foreheads with her. "I suppose you're right, Nova." He planted a kiss on her forehead and took a sip of his tea. "Enough about me though; tell me about your parents."

"I mean, they got an arranged marriage out of convenience so they didn't start off very romantic." Imane picked up two cards: an upright Queen of Pentacles and an upright Two of Cups. "My mum refused to sleep in the same bed as my papa until he won her over, and then after he proved he wasn't just a 'pretty face with a stuck-up attitude' they had Stella, then me two years later, then Nadim three years after." She smiled and put down the cards. "My mum was a pageant queen-turned-doctor, so you can imagine how smitten my papa is still with her. They both aged very gracefully."

He hummed, sticking out his lower lip and nodding slowly, impressed. "Both of them are very tall, I assume?"

She nestled her cheek against the fabric of his hoodie, smiling slightly. "Papa's 6 foot 2 and Maman's 5 foot 7." Hazel eyes watched along with blue as the drizzle slowed even more. "Nadim's 6 foot 4 now. I'm the shortest between my siblings by two inches. Stella's an actual model, since we both grew up walking pageants and she loved the runway as a career from the age of 16 onward. I'm really happy for her."

Kassam paused, the glass cup pressed against his mouth. "You're a pageant girl and a double tertiary degree holder that wants to be a humanitarian, love?" He blew out a breath. "And you say you're punching above your weight."

"You and Naima are the only two who know that stepped foot in the villa, now that I think about it. She knew because her family's in the pageant arena of work over in the Persian Gulf." The smile on their lips widened just a little more before it disappeared, the expression on her bare face neutral and unfazed. "Walking pageants slightly ruined my relationship with my bodily autonomy for awhile, though. It always felt like I was on display for everyone to judge and that I wasn't allowed to be pretty just for myself." She crossed her legs, sighing into his hoodie. "With my previous partners, whenever I'd wear something like this," she gestured at their garments, "they never really considered that I just wanted to feel beautiful in the comfort of my own flat and not that I wanted their attention. You can imagine the relief I felt when I was single, since it was just me then."

He frowned and rolled his eyes, kissing her hair and slipping his arm out from their grip to wrap around her waist, letting her head rest on his chest. "Lucas, too?"

She nodded, turning so she can hug him. "Lucas, too." They exhaled and relaxed. "I started getting into BDSM a few years ago to feel more in control of my body and what I would allow for others to see or not see, and it's helped a lot." He could feel her smile against the fabric. "It's also nice to know there are men out there who can admire from a distance and won't automatically get turned on and can still have a normal functioning conversation with me when I'm in lingerie."

Kassam laughed quietly, sliding the discarded cards on top of the rest of the deck and giving her a peck on the nose. "Shhh, not so loud; he might hear you." He pressed another few kisses against her cheek, gathering their empty cups and rinsing them clean in the sink. "Let's head to bed after you get changed, love. It's cold."

Danny jogged up to him after he put on the last song, with a mug of honeyed decaf green tea. “Cheers, mate. Your set was fucking stellar.”

“Thanks. I haven’t done this many sets in a month since I was 21.” He sipped his warm drink. “My voice’s going to be absolutely shot tomorrow, holy shit...”

“No worries, man. If you need anything just ring me and I’ll get it to you.” His producer smiled. “I can take care of the rest; go mingle with the others. You’re, in fact, still an Islander.”

Kassam unplugged his headphones and walked over to the small group at the newly made outside lounge that didn’t have the stripper pole in it.

Bobby smiled lopsidedly at him. “I really get the hype around you now. I haven’t felt a vibe like this in years.”

“I do free mixes almost every Thursday on Instagram Live if you want to tune in.” He downed more tea. “It’s all in good fun and not as polished as a professional gig because I’m just messing around.”

“Wanted to invite Imane to the booth?” Priya beamed, still dancing to the music.

His eyes fixed on the mentioned brunette who was talking to Elisa at the bar, then briefly scanned over their patterned cowl neck tank top and flared dark trousers with stilettos. He couldn’t help the slight upturn in his lips.

“Maybe not the booth, but the afterparty. It’s a... perk of being with me.”

“Getting the full Love Island experience, tough guy?” The caterer nudged him on the shoulder knowingly.

Imane looked over, tucking their hair behind her ear, and she smiled.

Not just any dazzling smile: it was the soft smile a girlfriend would give him when they were proud of him, soft and warm and sweet. It was a smile that made him feel alive, like he was seeing the world in technicolour even without the music.

His chest swelled, and he smiled back at them.

A text sound rang through the air and Chelsea yelled, “I got a text!”

The smaller groups converged together around the interior designer, and she read out loud:

“’Islanders, it’s time to get your hearts fluttering in the game Dirty Dancers! Get ready to be strapped in to heart rate monitors and see which Islanders can get your blood pumping the hardest. The girls will be going first. Boys, you’ll find Fit Bit watches at the lounge closest to the bar. Girls, head inside and get changed to bring it. #DanceLikeWe’reMakingLove #FlauntItAndWantIt.’”

Imane slinked over, pressing a small cluster of kisses on his cheek. “How far do you want me to go, handsome?”

“As far as you’d like, love.” He returned the favour, relishing in the giggle that came from her lips before kissing them gently. “You’ll impress me no matter what. Just don’t send me into cardiac arrest.”

“No promises there... but I think you’ll be okay. I’ll take care of this.” They chuckled and tapped his nose affectionately, taking his empty mug before hurrying off to meet with the other girls inside.

Kassam walked over to the boys, eyeing the pole that was in the middle of the platform. “If this is any sign of what’s about to come, we’re fucked.”

Graham laughed and tossed him a watch. “It’s going to be a joy ride, sailor.”

He fitted the heart rate monitor on his left wrist and let it settle, choosing to sit between Henrik and Gary who were sitting to the right of the U-shaped lounge sofa.

The fisherman’s phone dinged, and he looked at the message. “’Boys, you will be individually scored on who raised your heart rate the most. If you touch or kiss any girl, 2 beats per minute will be added onto your rate for every interaction; this is a test of willpower and restraint. The girls will be ready in a few minutes. #KeepItDownLow.’” He sighed and tucked his phone away. “So... we’re fuuuuucked.”

“I just know Lotta’s about to come down here looking like a dominatrix. Holy shit...” Bobby put his head in his hands and groaned. “My heartbeat’s already going up thinking about it.”

Henrik cackled gleefully. “And we’re meant to go after them? They’re absolutely outshining us.”

Kassam glanced at the watch around his wrist, showing his resting heart rate at 56, and let out a long drawn-out breath as Rihanna started playing from the speakers behind them.

Elisa was the first to step out into the arena, wearing a sweetheart lingerie set with a long sheer sarong and cat ears. Graham’s jaw dropped and he immediately turned as red as his hair when she climbed onto his lap, seemingly stunned into silence when she started moving. He didn’t say anything when she gave Bobby a friendly hip bump and wink before sashaying away to the roof terrace and the song changed to something less sensual and more upbeat.

The fisherman looked at the watch and turned his wrist so the boys could see the large 115 bpm number flashing.

Jo was next to appear, paying close attention to Gary. The bloke looked like he was having the time of his life, blushing at the close contact but still keeping his composure.

Marisol came after, dressed in a cop roleplay outfit, and strangely headed over in Kassam’s direction. To be polite, he didn’t push her off but looked away; he made eye contact with the fisherman and shot a silent question that might have sounded like “What the fuck?”

Graham grimaced and shrugged but still bobbed to the music, and the DJ was relieved when the law student moved on to Gary.

His heart rate was still well in the 60s, peaking at the rare 70.

Chelsea skipped out next and kept it light. She seemed a bit antsy participating in the challenge without a sure fire partner to rely on for a lap dance.

Lottie, like Bobby had predicted, came in dressed in a leather bodysuit and fishnets and stripper boots. The baker slunk deeper in his seat when she climbed the pole to the rhythm of “Gimme More”, red in the face but fully entranced by the twirling Aussie who knew a full pole routine.

Kassam whistled and clapped, to which the blonde grinned at him before strutting back.

The music faded into a slightly slowed “Promiscuous”, and the greens and yellows of the previous song turned into rich purple and deep reds in his head.

His eyes widened slightly when Imane stepped out in a khaki satin trench coat and the black and gold Eden pumps, catwalking to the platform while slowly undoing the belt that was cinching the coat.

They definitely widened at the sight beneath the satin: a sheer black bustier that connected to a leather choker that had a heart-shaped charm dangling off, a matching pair of biker shorts with a side slit to expose their phoenix thigh tattoo... a garter that had a gold heart...

The gold glittering arm cuffs that connected to a thin chain trailing between their breasts and peeking out to wrap around the small of her waist did not help his heart not do overtime.

Imane smirked and tossed the coat at Henrik, feeling the music with her hips; brown tinted lips were parted just slightly to give their facial expression a little more seduction.

Kassam could feel his ears burning and his heart thudding like a mad man’s when she slowly straddled him.

“Hi,” she crooned, her hips pushing down with just the right amount of pressure to elicit a growl.

His hands were aching to touch them, and he balled them into fists to restrain the primal urge to grab her. “I’m not used to seeing you not wearing gloss.” His sentence ended with a grunt as her lips found his jaw.

“Matte lipstick’s better for when I want to be frisky... like this.” She kissed their way up to his left ear and licked the shell, still rocking her hips.

His trousers instantly felt tighter, and the fire in his gut burned with a ferocious urgency and wanting. He did his best to keep his breathing steady but swore when she bit down on the place he loved.

The next growl was louder when she reached around his neck and squeezed just underneath his Adam’s apple. She leaned away, and at a closer look the charm on their choker had “Say Please” laser etched into the gold plate.

Please...

Imane kissed up his other jawline, getting closer and closer to his lips; their mouth with matte lipstick felt sensational against his skin, like plush clouds or pillows.

He gave in, tilting his head and capturing her in a kiss, moving his hips against theirs while his fingernails dug into his palms to keep him from touching them. She was smiling and cupped his face tenderly, her thumbs running along his cheeks.

If this was what a Goddess kissing him was like, he had no complaints.

A low whine got ripped out of him when she got off, making him cover his mouth in shock that the noise was actually his, but blue eyes watched as she sashayed over to the pole and teasingly started to walk around it with a hand against the cold metal.

Was she...?

She winked at him and snaked her way up, only stopping when they were a good distance off the ground.

And she slowly let go with her hands, bending backwards to the bass so her arms caressed the pole and she was hanging upside down with the strength in their thighs. Their eyes were still looking at him, and when she was sure he was watching she smiled and hooked their calf around the pole to let the metal part of her heel kiss the silver. She arched her back and let herself slink down to the music back onto the ground.

He was stunned into silence, his Adam's apple feeling too hard to swallow.

There was loud cheering and wolf whistles from the roof terrace as she ended with an elegant half cartwheel to return them to standing.

Imane shot him a look from over her shoulder, teasing and victorious. “Keep the coat, boys.” And she catwalked toward the villa.

Henrik tossed him the fabric, fanning himself with his shirt. “Holy smokes, she’s hot.”

“You’re telling me...” Kassam covered his face and heard Graham chuckling.

“Lover boy’s heart is off the charts! 112!”

He gawked and looked at his heart rate monitor to see if it was a fib.

It wasn’t. Imane managed to perfectly double his resting heart rate. With the kiss factored in, Imane made him jump to 114 bpm.

Priya took mercy on him and let him be, focusing her attention on Henrik who was all for it.

He glanced at the roof terrace, where Imane was carefully perching against the edge and leaning forward so their cleavage was well on display. She caught his eye and waved.

Fuck.

His teeth brushed against his lower lip, and he chewed and licked to taste her kiss again.

The lipstick tasted like honey and vanilla.

Kassam snapped out of it when Bobby’s phone dinged. The baker fished for the device in his back pocket and read the text.

“’Boys, was that hot or was that hot? It’s time to show up or show out; head into the dressing room and get ready to do your set. You’re going in age order, from youngest to oldest. Pick your song and outfit, and let’s set this villa on fire. #LadsOnTour #HenParty.’”

Gary glanced around as the group got up and started moving into the villa. “Reckon I’m on first? Which month were you born, Henrik?”

“December.” The climber chortled. “I’m a year older than you, mate.”

“Shite, am I really the youngest here?” The short-haired blond flushed and scratched his head, sitting down at his vanity.

Bobby nodded, grinning. “It’s you, Henrik, me, Graham then Kassam when it comes to age.”

The song choices were on his vanity, and Kassam picked up the list to scan the names. Two of his own songs were on there, “Get Even” and “Naked”.

There were 6 songs, though.

He looked up. “Is there meant to be an extra track?”

“Maybe to give more flexibility? Lemme see.” Henrik shrugged and held out his hand, sticking out his lips in a pout. “Well, clearly the other blokes can’t choose your songs, aye? Kinda strange dirty dancing for our girls and hearing your voice seducing them.” He chuckled.

The DJ took off his dress shirt and replaced it with a halter neck leather harness against his bare chest. “That works for me. I’ll take ‘Naked’.” He grabbed the matching belt and garter harness, easily slipping it over his cream trousers and looped the belt portion of the apparatus into the belt loops. “I don’t usually dance in front of multiple people, so this will be interesting.”

Graham glanced over while fixing himself up, and grinned when he recognised the bondage gear. “Just focus on your bird and you’ll be fine, Captain.” He fixed up his black tie, expertly tightening it around his neck. “You’re looking dapper.”

“Oh, I’m not done.” Kassam smirked and pulled out his gold upper arm cuffs and magnetic faux septum piercing. “Cheers though.” He put on his regular glasses for the added effect.

He messed up his hair slightly and easily tugged his earlier dress shirt back over his new get-up, spritzing some Dark Amber and Ginger Lily behind the ears.

The mirror showed him the reflection of a worshipping switch. A smile found itself curling into his lips, and he followed the other guys to the lounge room.

Gary went out first once “Rude Boy” started playing from the outside; Kassam casually started stretched his shoulder muscles and loosened the tension in his chest.

He was not pulling a muscle out there, that’s for sure.

The faint orange and red of the beat danced in his peripheral as he buttoned up the shirt, leaving the first two unbuttoned so the top of the chest harness peeked out slightly.

Something was nagging at him about the track list, and Kassam leaned over toward Graham after Henrik and Bobby already left.

“Do you sense something wrong about the amount of songs we got?” He rubbed his ear, seeing the bokeh of yellow and purple of “Long Way 2 Go”.

The ginger sighed, rubbing his cufflinks. “I dunno what I’m feeling, but my gut’s telling me a storm’s about to come in sooner or later.” He huffed out another breath and straightened. “No reason to fret right now, the biggest concern for you should be making Imane’s heart go wild. We’ll deal with whatever’s coming after.”

With that, the younger one got up when the song shifted. “Break a leg, Kassam.”

And Graham was on the outside.

Kassam leaned against the sofa, recalling the count of his own song while doing diaphragmatic breathing to help quell the “what about” questions spinning between his ears. For good luck, he twisted the hamsa charm around his neck three times.

The song changed again, this time to a G minor 137 bpm downbeat trap rhythm that followed 4/4 time signature. The familiar royal blue and gold orbs danced in his eyes, and he walked out into the back garden.

Imane was no longer in their heartracing outfit, instead returning to their evening tank top and flared trousers; she was the second to last girl on the left, Lottie being the leftmost.

Kassam made his way toward them, with a slight sway in his shoulders and walk that followed the synth of the track. He smirked when her gaze fell to the top of his chest and she blushed.

“Come, love, let’s get naked (naked, naked) / Come, love, let’s get naked (naked, naked) / She’s always with me (with me) / she’s always feeling me (feeling me)...”

He propped one knee against the seat and leaned down to whisper in their ear in French. “[Would you like a dance with me, My Lady?]” His voice was slightly raspier than usual due to the set earlier, and she gasped at the pet name.

“[I’d love to.]” She giggled and let him help her to their feet, sighing when his hand found her jaw and his front met her backside.

He grabbed their waist, still subtly gyrating his hips, and let his hand on their jaw slowly travel down against her cleavage and her stomach to the soft upscale key change after the first verse. “[My Lady’s so pretty, I would pay any price to touch you. Let me worship your body.]”

Her breath hitched, and she let out a quiet moan when his fingers found the sensitive spot on her pelvis.

The DJ easily glided his right hand along her arm and took their hand, spinning them to their seat again. When she sat back down, he looked away for a second before the bridge came, and his hands found the buttons on his shirt.

He could hear the screams and yells in delight from the other girls as he exposed more and more of his harness, waiting for the chorus to repeat and sliding the shirt off his shoulders once it did.

“Come, love, let’s get naked (naked, naked) / Come love her, let’s get naked (naked, naked) / She’s always chilling here, she’s always looking at me (looking at me) / telling me it’s time to get down...”

Imane was biting down on her finger, pupils dilated.

He slyly smiled and tossed the shirt at them; she let it hit her shoulder, and almost immediately he closed the distance between them.

His hands grabbed the back of the sofa for support as he straddled her, body rolling, and after he got well adjusted one of his hands moved to unbutton and unzip his trousers, exposing the waistband of his briefs.

There was a chorus of squeals, and Imane bit her lip as her hands betrayed them and roamed over the bare skin of his chest.

She was tempted, and he won.

“Day (day), day and night, she’s my drug / I’m addicted to her every time / Super potent, always on it / She’s got a swagger nobody else saw...”

“[Do you want me, Goddess?]” he groaned in her ear, leaning to kiss her neck.

Imane sighed dreamily, nudging into his touch. “[Always.]”

Kassam easily dismounted one knee to push their back against the seat cushion, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder. He kissed her ankle and started grinding against them to the tempo of the song, a hand next to their head to keep balanced.

The blush on her cheeks deepened into a rose. “[Naughty boy...]” Her breasts moved with him, the satin of their top making the movement look exquisite. She bit her lower lip and moaned.

Her hips met his, and he desperately wished they were alone so he could give them the proper worship she deserved.

She reached up, caressing his neck, and tugged downward so he could lean in for a kiss. He obliged, growling at the warmth between them as he still body rolled to the beat.

Imane was very flexible.

He pulled away to plant a kiss on her cheek and put her back up into sitting position, flashing her a wink and a cheeky grin as he rebuttoned his trousers.

“See you around, love.”

He left her dazed to saunter off up to the roof terrace, where the rest of the boys were cheering and waiting.

Henrik pretended to cool himself off by fanning his cheeks. “There’s no way you’ve never done that before; you looked so good!”

“It’s usually a one-person show.” Kassam shrugged. “I don’t show off my assets to just anyone.”

“You outshone the rest of us surely.” Graham gave him a firm fist bump and a clap on the back.

“Naked”, instead of fading out into nothing, faded into “Get Even”. The lads glanced back at the lounge area where the girls were equally as confused.

Gary whispered, “What’s going o–”

Bobby pointed at a shadow walking from the garden gate. “Wait, is that...?”

The figure had his back to them as he walked toward the outdoor lounge, dressed in a tailored Brunello Cucinelli suit. Styled dark hair, tan skin, sharp jawline.

Tall and muscular.

“She tells her friends ‘He must be famous’ / Don’t let that intimidate you / I’m faded but you know I’ll take you / Grinding while the music’s bumping / You know that it’s all or nothing...”

Henrik squinted, a tinge of recognition in his eye.

It didn’t take long for the new arrival to take off his jersey blazer, showing off the suspenders he was wearing against a bare toned torso. A familiar tattoo of a motorbike was wrapped around his right bicep.

He was sporting two new tattoos: two filled in bands on his right forearm, mirroring exactly where Kassam’s were on the left. The tiger on his right shoulder blade caught the shadows from the club lighting.

“I look just like your man, it’s crazy / And I don’t know what regret is, baby...”

All the girls except Imane screamed in glee; she looked shocked, eyes wide and mouth covered by a fist.

Bobby tapped his shoulder and gestured to his own forearm in question. “What?”

Kassam could only bite down on his tongue and shake his head, watching the figure straddle Marisol and do body rolls... then Chelsea...

“And I wanna be the one to go deeper (deeper) / And I wanna be the one to go higher (higher) / Cos you know it’s not enough to get even, I’ve got reasons...”

When he reached Imane, his face came into full view as he straddled their lap and started moving.

Dark brown eyes met blue, and Kassam felt the icy cold sensation of dread go down his spine when the man smirked and winked at him.

It was Lucas.

Chapter Text

The bathroom made their moans echo against the walls, the sound of skin meeting skin and kisses intoxicating.

“Hmm,” Imane purred and tugged at his hair, hazel eyes glinting mischievously as she kissed up his neck. “Not scared we’re going to get caught in here?”

He chuckled and kissed her ankle perched on his shoulder, gripping her by the hips and grunting when he heard the sound of her arousal every time he thrusted into them. “It’s part of the thrill. You looked too good bending over the sink for me to resist.”

“You’re so bad for me, Sir.” She giggled, voice slightly huskier because of her need, and bucked her hips. Her lips were flushed red and plumped from kisses, and the way they parted to form a heart and let out a breath made his chest swell. Fingernails scratched down his neck and back, trailing lines of fire against his skin. “Fuck me from behind and watch me in the mirror, would you? I’ll give you a show.”

Kassam obliged, pulling the leg on his shoulder off and growling when he pulled out to let them turn around and bend over against the green agate sink countertop, their champagne gold heels clicking against the bathroom tiles. His hands found her waist, and the brunette pulled their hair to give him the full view of her back.

She moaned when he slipped back inside her, rocking their hips before arching her back so every time he pumped in and out his piercing would hit her G-spot. “Fuck...”

His eyes traveled to see her facial expression in the mirror; she had her eyes half closed, a look of complete bliss and lust present. Her lips parted, a breathless sigh escaping as they tilted her head back, and they moved together.

His reflection reached out his right hand to grab her hair into a ponytail, the two bands around his forearm catching the light.

Wait.

He looked further up to see cold, dark brown catlike eyes staring back at him, a more muscular frame mirroring his. The physiotherapist smirked at him before looking down and biting his lip, fully entranced by the woman bent over the sink counter.

His hips stopped moving, but Lucas’ still kept going. Imane’s moans increased in volume, turning almost exaggerated, and the sound of wet skin meeting skin became nauseating for him to listen to.

"Oh my god, Daddy... Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes!"

Bile rose up into his mouth, and he vomited blood into the sink; crimson and gold slowly trickled down the drain, painting the ivory basin with colour. He wiped at his mouth, his vision turning slightly fuzzy as the hand pulled away with a smudged streak of dark red against the back.

Kassam looked back up at Imane's reflection, which was staring directly at him with a cruel smile on their lips. Hazel eyes glimmered with amusement, Lucas' face so close to hers. Dark brown eyes were fully hypnotised by her, and she grabbed the man by his jaw. Blood red fingernails rubbed along the tanned skin of his chiseled face.

He watched in horror as their lips met, at how his tongue slipped so easily into her mouth; his stomach turned when they pulled away from each other and the physiotherapist bit his lower lip like he wanted to go back in for seconds.

The Lebanese's gaze shifted and looked him dead in the eye.

“You didn’t think I actually liked you, did you?” She chuckled, and his throat went dry. “You were just a cute little placeholder, baby... Be sweet one more time and watch a real man fuck me.”

His eyes opened to see the canopy of the daybed, silk curtains blowing in the breeze and the rippling of the pool water hitting his ears. The early songbirds were beginning to chirp in the distance.

It was just a dream.

He turned his head to the left to see Imane’s sleeping figure next to him, her shoulders peacefully rising and falling in sync with her breathing. Their hand was on his chest, fingertips gently and lazily rubbing along his shirt.

Her face was serene, long eyelashes and parted lips giving them an almost doll-like look. The wavy strands of her hair pooled against the pillow, gleaming like satin.

It was impossible to reimagine the cruel look she gave him in the dream; it just didn’t suit her.

Kassam reached out to touch her cheek, feeling them stir under his touch. She smiled slightly, subtly pushing her face into his palm and purring, but didn’t wake up. The hand on his chest moved onto the mattress.

His heart squeezed, and he gently stroked his thumb along her soft skin. His eyes traveled to the strap of her satin green teddy that was hanging off on their tricep instead of on her shoulder. He fixed it for her and pressed a gentle cluster of kisses against her hair, breathing in the scent of jasmine and green tea and brown sugar.

She purred again and shuffled her legs underneath the duvet.

If it were true, it would be a punch to the gut he might never recover from.

He reluctantly withdrew his hand and got up, zipping the mosquito net closed behind him before heading into the villa to shower off the anxiety dream. The lights in the mens’ changing room were already on, and he popped out his overnight contacts and undressed, grabbing his black pair of Greca swim shorts.

His favourite hoodie was neatly folded on top of his dresser, two small shiny things glinting against the black. He picked them up to look at them.

They were Imane’s favourite earrings, her signature small gold hoops with a shortdagger charm on each.

He weighed them on his palm for a moment before tucking them into his vanity drawer next to his cologne.

When he looked at the vanity opposite of his, he saw exactly the same bottle of Tobacco Vanille sitting innocently next to the miniature of a blood pressure cuff. His tongue prodded the backs of his teeth as he grabbed his hoodie and walked to the communal bathroom on the second floor.

There was one shower stall already occupied, but he put down his clothes on the glass table in the corner and stepped into the closest stall. Cold water poured down over his head, and he let it run over his body and jolt him out of his sleepiness.

Lucas had given him a handshake last night after introducing himself to the new Islanders, but there was nothing friendly about the way he did it. He’d given a bear hug to Henrik, who was dazed and confused but very happy to see him.

It was just the new ink that made the boys uneasy.

He lathered shampoo into his hair and sighed, hearing the shower on his right turn off. His fingers carded at the curls that were starting to show at the ends, exacerbated by the presence of water. It wasn’t annoying enough to where he’d need to cut it, but it was beginning to fall against his forehead.

Kassam huffed and sorted himself out, breathing the scent of sandalwood and ginger in his body scrub to calm down the racing thoughts whirring through his head.

The water turned off and he quickly towelled his hair dry, wrapping a fresh towel around his waist and walking toward the sink. He grabbed his razor and made quick work of his morning stubble before brushing his teeth.

The acid taste from watching Lucas bending Imane over the counter washed away, being replaced by mint.

He felt so much better.

The Algerian looked in the mirror, seeing the small dark circles beneath his eyes that always appeared when he didn’t sleep well, and massaged just underneath them with his ring fingers to help the blood circulate. He dressed and headed back to the changing room.

Lucas was sitting at his vanity, drying his hair. The sight of him almost made Kassam sneer, but he ignored the other as he got on with his morning routine.

“Not exactly the most warm lad here, are you?”

He tugged the hoodie over his head and sat down at his own vanity, uncapping the bottle of kohl; he only answered after applying it to his waterline.

“I don’t owe you anything except common decency.”

The physiotherapist rubbed his chest in mock hurt, an eyebrow raising. “You wound me, Kassam. Surely a ‘Good morning’ would be sufficient?”

He didn’t answer, opting to turn on his hairdryer.

The doors opened, and the rest of the boys walked in just as he slotted the dryer back into its holder.

Graham whistled. “Good morning, lads.”

Kassam murmured a good morning back, diligently sorting out his brows.

Henrik slowly sat down at his vanity, eyes shifting between the two seated brunets. “I didn’t know you used Tom Ford cologne, Lucas.”

“I picked it up at the airport to try out.” The physiotherapist chuckled, shrugging into a red satin half-sleeve dress shirt.

“We didn’t get to ask last night but is there someone you’re eyeing specifically?” Gary piped up, to which Bobby elbowed him in the ribs for.

There was an uncomfortable lull of silence as Lucas tousled his hair with wax. The oldest there looked him dead in the eye, and the room could hear a pin drop.

“Maybe, maybe not.” A cold grin spread against his lips. “Nothing serious though, she’s just a little bit of fun at the most.”

The eyeliner between Kassam’s fingers almost snapped like a twig when his hand balled into a fist.

Bobby looked at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh, look at the time! Let’s go shower... or something not here...” He rushed the men he came in with out of the door, leaving the two brunets to have their staredown alone.

The DJ looked away first to carry on smudging eyeliner against his top lashline and waterline, putting the pencil down with a quiet thud, and sprayed his cologne. He got up to follow the other four.

“One thing, Kassam.”

His feet stopped, even when he willed them to keep ignoring the other, and he turned his head.

Lucas had spun around on his vanity seat to face him, an amused look on his face. “I heard from a little birdie that Imane has a medical treatment that’s costing her just shy of £40,000.” He chuckled. “Just thought you might want to know.”

He frowned. “And?”

“That’s all I wanted to tell you. I won’t spell out the rest; you’re a smart one.”

The Algerian put his weight against the heel of his trainer, moving his right foot in a wiping motion. "On what basis should I believe you?"

"You don't have to. I just thought the person who's coupled up with the woman who looks for honesty know that she might not be so honest herself."

Kassam exhaled and walked out without saying anything else, heading over to the gym where Graham and the rest of the boys were. The fisherman was the first one to see him approaching.

“I have never seen you look this mad before, Captain.” He put down his 160 pair of dumbbells. “There’s steam coming out of your ears.”

The Algerian sat himself down on the bench, shaking his head. “He’s pushing my fucking buttons.”

Henrik looked apologetic and offered to spot his benchpresses. When he put down the barbell for the third time and got up, his eyes caught movement from their daybed and saw Lottie and Priya pulling Imane out to sit on the adjacent bed.

She locked eyes with him and smiled, tucking her bare legs up on the mattress close to her chest.

It was a warm smile, just like the one she gave him in her sleep.

Her barren face was always tender.

Kassam took a long exhale out through his mouth and went back on the bench; his shoulders felt less stiff.

When he finished his sets and spotted Bobby on his, the girls were gone and Lucas was in the kitchen. Henrik followed him in to keep the tension down.

He busied himself making two cups of iced Turkish cold brew, whisking together the usual dairy-free vanilla sweet foam to top up Imane’s glass when the girls emerged dressed in their swimsuits.

Imane walked to the kitchen island in a chain detailed black bikini and red ankle strappies. “Good morning, boys.”

“Good morning, love.” He held out her coffee.

At the same time, Lucas held out an açai bowl. The brunette blinked at the dual gesture, the girls behind her shifting at the circumstances in the kitchen, falling silent.

She reached for his coffee first, then the bowl. A smile graced their glossy brown lips and they walked over to Kassam. “You know you don’t need to do that for me anymore, Luke.”

“Sorry, old habits die hard.” The physiotherapist chuckled, much to his distain.

He wrapped an arm around their waist, feeling the sensation of the gold chains on her hips cool down his palm, and she leaned against him while sipping happily on their coffee.

“It felt strange waking up with you not around,” she whispered, tucking her head against his neck and shoulder. His eyes traveled down, and she was looking at him while pouting. “[You don’t need to tell me why you weren’t there. I just missed you, Sammi.]” Her Arabic was soft. “[He knows how to speak French, so we need to adjust.]”

His throat went dry, gazing into earnest pools of amber and green rimmed with kohl and taupe eyeshadow.

Kassam nudged foreheads with her and pressed a kiss on their nose. “[I’m sorry, Nova.]”

The apology came out so naturally that it stunned him. Every time he’d say sorry in the past, it was like coughing up blood or knocking the breath out of him from a sucker punch.

But with her, it came so easy that it was almost terrifying.

Therapy was doing its job.

Imane seemed just as shocked, biting her lip and lowering her gaze to their coffee glass. A shade of peach ghosted her cheeks and she stirred the metal straw around the cup.

“[It’s okay. I, ehm...]” She trailed off and kissed his cheek. “[You’re really sweet.]”

He gave her a quick peck on the lips and kept his arm around her, tuning back into the conversation happening around them.

“I’m half Taiwanese, half French-German.” Lucas was entertaining Elisa and Chelsea over a bowl of dragonfruit and raspberries, Graham hovering around him. “My stepdad’s Italian and Greek and has been bugging me for a few years to learn Italian.” He popped a raspberry in his mouth. “Not really my thing. I’ll stick to Chinese, French and English any day.”

The influencer cocked an eyebrow up. “So that’s why you know French. I heard you talking to Noah and Imane fluently on the telly and was impressed.” Her fingers flexed before resting on Graham’s arm. “You’re fit but too... what’s the word?”

“[Sumptuous?]” Kassam said before taking another sip of his coffee.

The St. Lucian-Jamaican covered her mouth to laugh. “[Yes, exactly.] Too swanky.”

Lucas’ neck flushed pink but he didn’t say anything. Graham chuckled, Henrik hiding behind his shoulder to conceal a smile, and winked at the DJ.

“For the record, I didn’t call him swanky.” He smiled over his cup. “You did.”

Chelsea giggled and stole a dragonfruit hemisphere. There was a text ringtone that rang through the air.

“I think that was mine,” Lottie said, balancing her toast and cuppa in one hand and reaching into her hip holster for her phone. She cleared her throat.

“’Girls, missed seeing a familiar face? Head over to the poolside after breakfast for a game of Matchmaker; we’ve prepared a compatibility test for you on which boys you’re the most compatible with. The best part? You’re ranking them yourself first. A few bruised egos and hearts are in order. #TheHurricane’sHome #MeetYourMatch.’” Green eyes flickered up from her screen and her black-painted lips twisted. “Oh no...”

“It’ll be fun, Lo. Don’t worry too much about the results.” Bobby snuck behind her and stole a bite from her toast, making her playfully hip bump him away. “Sometimes what you want on paper isn’t what you need.”

Marisol plucked a raspberry from Lucas’ bowl, examining it. “I suppose the game’s meant to help Chelsea and I figure out who to crack on with.” She stared straight at him, an irritated glint behind her glasses. “Or it’s meant to break up a couple.”

He ignored her, opting to eat the scoop of açai frozen yoghourt Imane was offering him.

After Gary and Jo finished their fry up, the entire group moved to the poolside where there were 6 numbered marble circular slabs forming a line and a large easel stand with several heavy cardstock posters.

Elisa’s promotional picture was centred at the top of the first poster, with 6 colourful heart-shaped stickers below the numbers 1 through 6.

The influencer’s phone dinged, and she read out the text.

“’Elisa, you are the first girl to rank your boys from most to least compatible. Arrange the lads in whatever order you see fit, and then assign another girl to reveal the answers from 6 (least compatible) to 1 (most compatible). For every boy you get correct, you get a point. Lads, form a queue behind the marble. #Let’sGetCracking.’”

Kassam kissed Imane’s hair and gave her an arm rub before walking over with the other men; he parked himself between Bobby and Graham.

Immediately Elisa came over and gently steered the caterer to sixth. “Hopefully this doesn’t stop us from speaking Patois with each other, but you’re just not my flavour. I’m more of a savoury gal.”

She pulled Gary to fifth, then Henrik to fourth. After a moment’s consideration, she put Lucas third.

The DJ looked over at Graham. “Like old times?”

“Once a Casa Lad, always a Casa Lad.” The ginger grinned at him and gave him a fistbump before turning to his partner. “You can put him first, Lis. I know I’m not your type on paper.”

Elisa turned to look at Imane, who gave her a little nod, before she said, “Kassam to first, since I have a higher chance of meeting him at events.”

The two men stepped onto their respective positions, and Elisa asked Chelsea to reveal the order. The blonde was surprised but very eager to do so.

Bobby was dead last, then Gary, then Henrik. Graham was third, Lucas was second and he indeed was the most compatible.

Imane blinked at his promotional picture, of him giving a sly smile and a wink, and hid her cheeks behind their hands.

Lottie was next, and before he could step down back into queue, she stopped him with an amused stare. “Stay right there. Gary to second, Graham to third. Henrik can stay where he is. Lucas, down to sixth. Bobby to fifth.” She stuck out her tongue teasingly. “Love you to pieces, babes, but not on paper.”

Bobby chuckled. “If I told my nan about you, she’d absolutely think I’ve gone batty.” He paused. “She actually would like you once she comes ‘round.”

She got all of her ranks correct.

Kassam consistently got placed last for Jo and Chelsea, and got moved up to third for Priya. He stayed in third when Marisol begrudgingly kept him there, Gary second and Lucas first. Graham stood in fourth.

Imane approached the queue of boys last, gently leading Gary to sixth. Graham got placed fifth, laughing when she gave him a consolation pat on the chest. Henrik, after a bit of thought, was placed fourth.

He stood on the left of Bobby, Lucas on the right.

The baker soon was no longer in between, being put in third.

Her eyes shifted between the physiotherapist and him, and she chewed her lower lip as she moved toward them.

“Lucas to first, Kassam to second. Lucas and I went to the same university and we both want to work in the same organisation at least on paper, so chances are AI pushed him higher.”

The DJ calmly stepped onto the second position, feeling eyes all fall on him; he looked at the rest of the girls, who were confused at how unfussed he was, sans Lottie.

He shrugged. “If I end up in second, I’m already doing pretty well.”

Lottie ripped off each sticker from the poster, each one revealing the correctly placed lad’s picture.

“Surely first place deserves a little kiss, considering you’re a tough nut to crack, babes.” Lucas grinned, pointing at his cheek.

Imane hesitated but leaned in to plant a kiss on his left cheek, and for a second Kassam’s stomach clenched at the sight.

It unclenched when instead of entertaining the physiotherapist any further, they turned to him and cupped his face in their hands, the floral scent of their hand creme calming the flares of jealousy licking through his chest.

She smiled. “I still choose you, Saint.”

“I still choose you.”

His eyes widened at the tenderness of the sentence; her affection was a conscious choice and not one that came out of obligation of sharing a bed, or one that came as an accident after a one night stand, or one that came because he was her best option. They cared for him by choice.

He wasn’t a mistake.

Her hands were so warm...

She pecked him on the lips and withdrew, giving him a soft smile before heading back over to the girls.

Bobby leaned over slightly. “You should see the way you’re looking at her for yourself, mate.” He nudged him in the arm.

He blinked rapidly and raised an eyebrow, stepping off the marble with the other lads. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m one of the more observant ones.” The Scots-Jamaican winked, and his voice lowered even more. “Don’t let Lucas get to you; he doesn’t hold a candle in comparison. They’ve already had a gander with someone like him and it didn’t work out. Remember that.”

Kassam messed up the other’s hair with a hand and caught up with the girls, who were giddily reading a text from Lottie’s phone.

The blonde grabbed Imane’s hand and tugged, a wide smile on her face. “A day in the town! We can take so many cute pictures on my camera!”

“Have fun, you two. Don’t give any shopkeepers your numbers.” Priya was smiling and hugged both of them.

Whatever happened in the first few weeks was squashed.

Imane looked at him and giggled when he moved closer to give her a kiss. “Will you be on your best behaviour, handsome?”

He chuckled and kissed her nose. “I’m always on my best behaviour, love. Go enjoy yourself.”

The afternoon was peaceful, with most of the Islanders sunbathing and chatting by themselves. Kassam made himself a cup of peach honeyed green tea after sorting the sides of his hair in the bathroom, went inside to retrieve his writing journal and his pod-mod, then snuck himself out to the smoking area to settle against the balustrade overlooking the long villa driveway.

He took a sip of his tea before clicking his vape on and taking a long draw, feeling the familiar tickle at the back of his throat as minty smoke curled against his tongue. After a 2-second inhale, he retrohaled and watched as the tendrils floated into the air and got carried away with the wind.

His left hand balanced the pod pen and the tea, thumbing through the pages to see the lyrics he had written the night of the boys’ choice in recoupling before flipping to an empty page. He thrummed his fingers against the paper, feeling out a decent beat after a moment; his pointer and middle kept the baseline 80 bpm while the rest of his fingertips occasionally chimed in to spruce up the beat to 115.

He needed to practise freestyle anyway, might as well stoop down low this once.

“Diamond necklace, oh how precious, who designed it? / Couldn’t care less about the number on your payroll, it doesn’t buy you what you long for.” The smoke had given his voice a slightly huskier sound, a sarcastic and cynical Amin3 croon that he hadn’t used in his newer releases, and his head gently moved along to the beat. “The air in my lungs is getting toxic,” he rolled his eyes and his tongue against his cheek, “the way he’s looking at me is making me nauseous. / Hand me a dollar for every empty promise, the love you’re giving her isn’t honest…”

He kept drumming his fingertips as he sipped his tea, and he continued, adding in compound triplets through his thumb. “Wanna know how I’m feeling tonight? Take me home. / Where I’m from, who I know, what I like? Take me home. / They’re not honest. Never trust his promise, I’m so done with you. / Just take me home.”

His lips curled into a snarl, reminiscing on that lucid nightmare and envisioning the two new forearm bands. His own burned with a ferocity.

“I’m not feeling the vibe tonight, surrounded by people I don’t like / selling fake love I will never buy.” He took another hit, breathing a smoke cloud from his mouth and looking at the orange blossoms falling into the driveway gravel. “Diamond necklace, oh how precious. Who designed it? Couldn’t care less.” He sneered and inhaled. “The air crowding my lungs is getting toxic, the way he’s looking at me’s making me nauseous. / Hand me a dollar for every broken promise, the love you gave her never was honest…”

His right hand thrummed out an underlying bassline like he was using the 64-pad, tapping irregularly like the beating of his heart when he was angry.

“Wanna know how I’m feeling tonight? Take me home. / Am I taken, who I know, what I like? Just take me home. / They’re not honest. Never trust any promise, I’m so done with you. / Just take me home, I’m not feeling the vibe tonight surrounded by people I don’t like.”

The screen door opened, and he turned to look at the new presence.

Gary froze in his tracks, pursing his lips. “Did you want to be alone? I can go to the driveway.” His expression softened. “Didn’t mean to overhear you singing, by the way.”

“Better you than someone else in this house.” He shook his head slightly and made room on the balustrade for the tradie. “You smoke?”

“One of my bad habits. I actually smoke one cig every two days to help me keep track of how many days I’ve been in here since the producers are trying to disorient us so much.” He chuckled. “It’s been five weeks and three days for me.” The blond sauntered over, quickly putting a cigarette in between his lips and lighting it, taking a slow drag and retrohaling it away from him. His forearms rested on the stone. “Bobby quit but he likes to show up here and there to get used to an environment with smokers, usually with his bass to make my smoke breaks less lonely.” He smiled. “Didn’t think you were the type to partake in killing your lungs.”

Kassam fiddled with his vape while taking another sip of tea. “I’ve never smoked actual cigarettes, but I usually smoke shisha. It’s low nicotine and low throat irritation.”

“Aye, Imane told me about shisha. Said it’s a cultural thing and showed me how a hookah worked and everything by drawing it out.” Gary chuckled, taking another draw. “It’s kinda surprising how much physics a crane operator needs to know that can be applied to hookah’s apparatus.”

He hummed and took a drag from his pod-mod. “I’m a bit of a homebody so I have my own hookah, but you’ll find smoking bars everywhere in the Persian and African region. It’s a good social area.”

“So I’ve heard. Bet the parties over there are banging.” The blond tapped the ash against the built-in ashtray in the architecture. “You smoke anything else?”

“No, Mary-Jane makes me tweak. I tried it out once during uni, and it just never was my thing.” The DJ sighed through his nose. “Meditation and therapy, and the occasional hookah session and CBD tincture when I’m having a bad time, are how I deal with anxiety. Pot sends me tripping out of my mind and ironically seems to do the opposite of take the edge off my nerves.” He shrugged. “Not really interested in trying it again to see if it was the strain or it’s actually me just not having the optimal neurology to tolerate it.”

There was a moment of silence as both men listened to the birds and smoked.

Gary let out a half chuckle after blowing out a cloud. “More power to you. I’m glad to know Bobby and I aren’t alone on the therapy train. There’s no shame in getting help, but some lads have a hard time admitting to it, aye?” He tapped his cigarette butt again. “What’s up with your noggin? You don’t have to tell if you don’t want to.”

Kassam took some time to drink from his cup before putting down the empty glass. “PTSD and obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. Other than that, I’m pretty okay.”

“Mmm. Rough childhood?” Gary huffed when he saw him nod. “Not gonna push it but I reckon you’re doing alright, mate.” Another pause. “You know, it’s funny that when I first met you, you reminded me a bit of Lucas but a... weirdly different version of him. I almost backpedaled when I saw you hanging out here because the time I told the other lads I smoked, the bloke wrinkled his nose at me like I said I snorted lines on the reg.” A brisk chuckle came from his mouth. “Then I realised why you were out here, apart from singing.”

“You’re not the first person to bring the similarity up, unfortunately.” The DJ dragged from the vape pen, blowing out the vapour through a dragon smoke trick. “I would be lying if I’d say I couldn’t see it on first impressions, but when you take the time to know me it’s clear we’re nothing alike.”

“Oh, for sure.” The tradie took a draw from his cigarette. “You’re just so sure of your self-worth and relations with other people, it’s well impressive. It’s hard to find a man around here who will stick to their values or keep their cool even in hot water.”

The sliding door opened again, and Bobby appeared with a metallic burgundy V7 Alder electric bass that had a paisley-design strap.

“Alright there, you two?” The caterer sat himself down on the cushioned bench, tuning his guitar. “What villa developments have I missed?”

“This bloke sounds peng when he’s singing.” Gary pointed his thumb toward Kassam.

Bobby grinned. “Everyone sounds peng when they’re singing to you, Gaz. You’re tone-deaf as fuck.” He raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall, tapping his fingers against the body of his bass perfectly at 80 bpm. “I also heard cos I was in the house... You want to sing that song again and I’ll throw some adlibs in there?” Light brown eyes twinkled. “It seemed therapeutic for you, Naveen.”

He blinked at the offer, but after he started tapping his foot to the beat for a moment it was quite easy to start singing.

The baker easily hummed along and created a semi-jazzy A minor riff with a strong sustained background thrumming for the second stanza, making him see blood red and venom green dance in his vision. His adlibs moved seamlessly between 8A, 8B and 9A, and after the jazz riff he motioned for the chorus to repeat. Gary was nodding along to the beat.

Blood and venom seemed quite adequate.

Kassam was in the kitchen doing the washing from making his lunch when Lottie and Imane returned. He looked up and saw the two of them come in wearing matching Lirika Matoshi strawberry dresses, the blonde opting for the pink version, which was making her surprisingly softer in appearance.

Imane looked gorgeous in the black; it brought out the warmth in her skin, kissed the hints of gold against medium olive.

They spotted him and walked over, carrying an olive green tote bag with a strawberry plush charm attached, and she smiled. “I got something for you.”

“You didn’t need to, love.” He put the sauté pan on the drying rack, dried his hands on a towel and embraced them. “The dress looks nice on you.”

She fixed the hair on his forehead, letting him press their bodies together. “Thank you, we walked by a thrift shop and found them. It was perfect timing too, since Lottie and I were talking about getting matching outfits over afternoon tea. We had a lot of people asking to take our picture in them.” Her nose crinkled when he peppered it with kisses, her pausing to capture his lips with theirs and kiss him sweetly. “You cut your hair...”

He chuckled, his thumbs rubbing against the small of her back. “You’re very observant; I just trimmed the sides because they were getting long. Is it that noticeable?”

“The haircut reminds me of how you looked when we met in person for the first time, but it’s curlier and longer up top. I do like guys who have curlier hair.” They brushed his ear with her fingertips before pulling away. “Would you meet me in the viper den in ten minutes so I can give you your present?” Hazel eyes twinkled. “It’s not horny, I promise.”

Kassam stuck out his lower lip in faux disappointment, smiling when she caught on and gently pushed his arm. “Would you like tea for the occasion?”

“Genmaicha would be nice.” Her lips parted into the shape of a heart, soft and plush and glistening, before curling upward. They turned around and walked into the house.

His gaze flickered up to the second floor, where Lucas was standing, forearms against the windowsill. The taller of the two narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth, and he disappeared from sight.

He filled the electric kettle and turned it on, finding the glass tea set in the cupboard next to the fridge and scooping in enough tea leaves to cover the strainer infuser by a centimetre. The gum in his mouth quickly was spat out in the bin before he sorted through the fruit in the fridge for strawberries.

His ears picked up on footsteps approaching when he got the cutting board from the countertop and a plate.

Kassam turned around to come nose-to-nose with the physiotherapist, who was leaning against the kitchen island and staring him down.

He raised an eyebrow and moved to the right, placing the items in his hands down. “Surely a ‘hi’ would be sufficient? What can I do for you?”

“What exactly is it about you that fascinates Imane so much?” The 27 year old’s voice was dripping poison.

He rinsed the berries underneath the tap and picked out the slightly bruised strawberries, taking a paring knife to the bruised sections before biting down on one and chewing. He swallowed evenly. “I don’t know, what do you think they’re fascinated by?”

Lucas frowned, flicking a nonexistent piece of lint from underneath his fingernail. “You’re shorter than her when they’re in heels and you don’t seem to give a shit.”

“Mmhmm.” The DJ calmly destemmed the perfectly fine fruit, cutting them into flowers easily. “That’s the territory you need to be okay with if you’re seeing someone who’s 5 foot 8 without heels. I've never felt lesser than just because I'm less than an inch shorter than six foot, you know." His brow quirked up humourously. "You don’t reckon they have a pair of stilettos that make them taller than you?”

The question stunned the other into indignant silence, and Kassam carried on destemming and cutting strawberries. The kettle whistled and he waited for the water to cool from boiling into milder temperatures before pouring it into the teapot to steep the tea leaves.

“How is it that a guy who graduated from Cambridge’s on the radar of someone from Oxford?” Lucas’ mouth turned downward in a grimace. It sounded like a rhetorical question. “I don’t understand.”

The shorter of the two whistled and rinsed the cutting board clean. “You know my alma mater? You really did your research on me.” He shrugged. “I’m kind of flattered.”

He capped the pot and took the tea tray in his hands. “I’m going to give you an analogy, in French, and hopefully it opens your eyes to something.” Blue eyes looked dead into dark brown. “[If a fashion house made a replica of a one-of-a-kind bag using an already well-loved and more expensive bag, which one is more valuable to the consumer: the first or the second, and did the fashion house ruin the more expensive bag by trying to mould it into something else?]” His eyebrow raised. “Sit on that for a while. I’ve got a date, Doc.”

Kassam left Lucas in the kitchen, wandering into the smoke room with the tea and fruit.

Imane was plumping a throw pillow, the tote bag propped against the side of the rocking daybed. The room this time smelled like rose and lychee and a hint of cedar, and the diffusers were lit up with pink. She turned and smiled, her lips blotted with a dark rosy brown colour.

“Hi.” Her kohl-lined eyes looked down at the tray. “You brought strawberries too?”

“They go well with genmaicha and also stick to the theme of your dress.” He put the tray down on the coffee table and poured each of them a cup, flipping over the cap to place the infuser outside of the pot to keep the tea from oversteeping.

“That’s well thoughtful... and a little cheeky.” She put the throw pillow down on the bed, motioning him to sit down. He dove onto it, tucking the pillow behind him, and put one leg over the other.

The brunette rustled around in their tote bag and pulled out a vinyl, cradling it to her chest. “When we were in the thrift shop, I was perusing the vinyls and remembered you saying you liked old-timey Japanese soul and you collected records.” She turned the cover over, revealing it to be Minako Yoshida’s MONOCHROME LP in its first release’s limited edition sleeve, and held it out to him with both hands. “I hope you don’t already have it, and it’s not much, but it made me think of you.”

He blinked and took the vinyl from her, thumbing over the tip-on sleeve. “No way.” He carefully removed the protective resale plastic sleeve and peeked into the vinyl sleeve and saw the printed inserts with Minako Yoshida’s liner notes. “I’ve been searching for this for the longest time... Thank you so much, love. This means a lot to me.”

“You’re very welcome, handsome.” She flushed and tucked her hair behind an ear, hugging him to her chest. “I have another thing for you, but it’s something very small.” They took a seat next to him and brought the bag onto their lap, pulling out a small Polaroid picture and handing it over.

Kassam looked at it and felt the cluster of butterflies in his stomach awaken.

It was a picture of Imane smiling, with their hair up in a ponytail, in the black strawberry dress and holding a Turkish teacup while sitting at an outdoor café. Evidently the picture was taken by Lottie, at the right angle to make the sunlight catch her cheekbones and make her almost glow ethereally.

It was a girlfriend type of picture.

“You can put it in between your phone and the case, to keep something that reminds you of me if you want.” They loosely looped her arm around his and smiled. “I hope you don’t forget about it when we need to hand these back; it’s a really nice picture of me.”

He took out his phone and slipped it against the back, making sure that the Polaroid was straight before slotting the clear case over it. “Oh, I won’t.” His hand squeezed hers. “Now I kind of want to ask for Lottie’s camera so you can have a picture of me on the back of yours. This is really sweet of you.”

She giggled and slowly pulled out a purple Polaroid from the tote, hiding the lower half of her face behind it. “Well, you’re in luck... but first, let’s enjoy the small tea date before it gets cold.”

Kassam leaned in and gave her a meaningful kiss, tasting the subtle flavour of ginseng of her mouth and the vanilla and honey of their lipstick and letting out a soft grunt when her free hand met his jaw. He pulled away just slightly before giving her a softer peck and handing her a cup of tea. The vinyl got placed next to the tea tray, and they clinked glasses.

“This feels so natural for us to do: find a little corner and sneak off from everyone.” Imane let out a contented sigh and laid her cheek against his shoulder, sipping quietly. “It happened in Casa Amor and it’s happening here too.”

He hummed in agreement, running his palm along the smooth skin of her arm. “You’re just easy to talk to for me that I don’t mind sharing my space.”

“Bobby told me that you’ve been getting along with most of the boys but you’re still very hard to read to all of them.” They held their cup between two hands. “He said you were smoking with Gary and chatting like mates.”

The DJ chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Baker Boy and I also duetted a song-in-progress, but he left that out.” He glanced over at her, pursing his lips. “Vaping isn’t a red flag for you, is it?”

She shook her head and snuggled into his chest, looking back at him. “I vape too, so it’s a bit hypocritical of me if I would be turned off by that.” Their fingers reached into their bag and pulled out a champagne gold pod-mod with a Kuromi sticker on it. “I smoke shisha most often, but not everyday. This is just more portable than a hookah.”

“Likewise. Today was the first day I smoked since coming on the show.” He poured the last cups of tea and held up a strawberry piece to her mouth.

She bit into it without hesitation, chewing and making a happy noise at how ripe and sweet it was. “I can get used to you feeding me like this...” They smiled and sipped their tea, moving their tote to the side so their lap was clear. “I feel so pampered.”

Kassam popped a strawberry in his own mouth, easily sliding himself so his legs dangled off the bed and his head was on their thighs. It was soft and warm, and she smelled like vanilla and sunshine and brown sugar. He batted his eyelashes at her innocently and felt the moth come back when she blushed and stroked his hair. “This is my consolation prize for my efforts.”

“You’re so possessive, handsome.” Imane laughed, reaching over him to put their cup down on the tray and straightening when a strawberry and the Polaroid were safely in her hands. She moved her hair out of the way, resting her ring and little finger against his jaw holding the strawberry just out of his mouth’s reach. “I think this would be a cute picture.”

He waited patiently as she lined up the shot, bracing himself for the flash of the camera, and bit down on the strawberry she lowered just as there was the familiar bright flash of instantaneous light that was gone the next second. He blinked rapidly to get the spots out of his vision, raising himself up to take another sip of tea.

She took out the developing film and set it down with the camera on the table, giggling again when he pressed a kiss against her clothed stomach, carding through his hair tenderly. Some of the strands fell against his forehead and curled against his skin. “Would you like to hear my first impressions of you from Casa Amor, since you told me your first impressions of me?”

He popped another strawberry in, chewing and swallowing after nodding. “I’m just curious to know if you remembered me.” His hand found her hip, and she gently nudged herself closer to his touch.

“Of course I remembered you. Back in the day before I became a thing with Lucas and deleted the app, I would go snoop your profile to look at your pictures and wonder if you ever found what you were looking for.” Hazel eyes softened, and she blushed. “There was a candid loop of you loosening your tie that I found really hot.”

Oh, he remembered that. Rohan had taken it at a swinger party they went to.

“My bio was horrendous.” He laughed, relaxing when her fingers kept moving through his hair. “’I know a better afterparty’ is not the most entertaining line ever.”

“It worked on me though.” Imane smiled, shifting slightly to kiss his forehead. “Really, I appreciated your honesty back then because if you led me on two years ago and I came to Casa Amor, I wouldn’t have looked at you as potential.” Her hands traveled down to his cheeks. “You were the only boy who caught my attention because you had this look about you that was interesting... and your eyes matured a bit from the pictures from your dating profile when I saw it for the last time. When you stayed up with me the first night and gave me your hoodie, I felt so comfortable around you that I fell asleep… I had a good feeling about you, and my intuition almost never fails me. Off the jump, I thought of you as very receptive, genuine and future-oriented. And very fit, but you probably knew that from the way I was looking at you when all the Casa Lads came out.”

Kassam looked up at her, at the way the dress hugged their breasts and their hair fell over her shoulder and the pink tinge the ambient lighting gave her eyes. Their lips were ever so parted and she was gazing at him with the tenderness that made him almost breathless. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks, and his ears felt warm.

It was almost like a scene from a movie.

He took her right hand in his, pulling it away to study their palm and fingers. His eyes caught sight of the Arabic tattoo on the side of her ring finger.

کریم. Karim. Honourable, noble.

He spotted the small beauty mark on their thumb joint, and turned his left hand to look at the matching beauty mark on his.

His larger hand moved to press against hers, and two halves of a heart came together.

Imane gasped. “Did your mum tell you as a kid that your other half would have the same birthmark as you but on the opposite side too?”

He nodded, letting his tongue roll against the inside of his cheek. “I was a skeptic for sure, but she taught me palmistry and tea-reading all the same.”

“Could I get a reading on my love life?” She smiled and pressed her cheek against their shoulder, blushing in the low light.

Kassam gently pressed a kiss to her birthmark, following the small trail down their arm that looked like a constellation, and carefully traced the love line in her palm. “It looks like you’re going on a romantic getaway soon.”

Her eyes widened, and she carefully examined his gaze. “To where?” Their lips parted, and he used his left hand as an anchor to the mattress to lift his torso up. He stayed nose to nose with her for a moment, smiling and tilting his head so their lips ghosted against each other but didn’t kiss her just yet.

“Right here, love.”

She laughed against his lips, and the flowers bloomed in his stomach as she kissed him, her arms slinging easily against his shoulders. His other hand found her waist and pulled them close, and they melted together for a moment.

“You’re so cheeky, Sammi…” Imane whispered, pulling away and bumping foreheads with him. She looked so quietly content, hazel eyes twinkling, and blotted lips curled upward. “Now I want to show you a smoke trick I know, before you one-up me on the romance.”

“I’m all yours.” He kissed the swells of their breasts and her neck, chuckling when she went in for another long kiss, but sat up straight so she could get up with her pod-mod. His eyes followed their figure to the back of the daybed, stilettos making little to no noise on the carpet.

She took a small drag to get the atomiser warm, retrohaling softly out of her nose and waving the smoke away with a hand. They beckoned him to sit with his back against the bed like it were a sofa, and cheekily she raised his arms to grip the backpiece on either side of his head.

It was a very suggestive position to put him in.

“No touching,” she whispered and tilted his head up with a playful hand on his chin.

The sight of her leaning over him in almost a domineering fashion made him wet his lips and swallow to keep his throat from going dry.

They pulled, maintaining eye contact with him as they blew out an O ring that lightly tapped his face before it dissipated, and leaned down. Their lips met and he felt the smoke enter his mouth, and it tasted like dragonfruit and milk sweets. He groaned at the feeling of her tongue slipping past his lips and clenched the headrest harder to keep himself from grabbing the back of her neck.

She smiled, her vampire teeth putting pressure against the border of his lower lip, and chuckled. They pulled back, much to his dismay to the point a small whine left his mouth, and blew out the last tendril of smoke to let it burst and fade out in a cloud against his nose.

He exhaled through his nose, feeling his heart thud against his ribs and the remnants of vapour he had in his mouth softly escape away from the two of them. He blinked up at Imane, who was stroking up and down his neck with the edges of their fingernails just lightly enough to slightly tickle and raising an eyebrow.

“If this is what secondhand smoke is with you, I’m loving it.” Kassam pressed his lips together to taste their lipstick again, growling when the hand against his neck slipped lower to grasp the fabric of his muscle shirt.

They giggled, tapping their vape against her lips. “Sometimes it is, Saint.” Hazel eyes glinted with a flavour of mischief. “You were such a good boy for me.”

He swallowed, heat creeping up against his neck.

Fuck.

And just like that, the glint was gone and she gently patted his cheek, giving him an upside down peck and walking back around so they could sit on the daybed with him. Her arms guided his head to her lap again, and for the few minutes he needed his heart to stop pounding so loudly it was blissful silence in their presence, with her hands back in his hair and fingers playing with the more evident curls. She was beautiful, steadily and gently breathing, her face serene and soft.

“Oh! The picture should be fully developed now.” They leaned over him, purring when he kissed their stomach through her dress, and retrieved the Polaroid film.

Her eyes went wide, and a slight blush appeared on the bridge of their nose; she gazed at the picture for a moment before passing it over to him. “I really like it, Sammi.”

Kassam took it, and saw himself upside down with his head on her lap, the splay of their dress looking like water underneath him. He was gazing straight at the camera with a slight lopsided smirk, the strawberry perfectly in between his teeth, and Imane’s hand was posed just right against his jaw. The flash had made his curls even more pronounced and shiny, but it made him look... sweeter.

It was boyfriend material.

“I really like it too.” He handed it back to her and watched them slip the picture in between their phone and the clear case, and couldn’t help a smile when she showed it to him. His hand slipped into his pocket to pull out his own phone and held it next to theirs. “We’re matching now.”

Her nose crinkled, and she smiled.

“Day and night, sun and moon.”

“Neptune and Saturn.” He laughed when she looked at him funny. “They’re my favourite planets, and saying we’re Venus and Mars is well cheesy.”

Imane thumbed over his cheek, the look of confusion morphing into one of cute defiance. She leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Agree to disagree, but I’m okay with being Saturn.”

Henrik came into the dressing room after the intensive Marines workout the lads had done, still not showered. “Have any of you seen Lucas around?”

“I thought I saw him heading into the beach hut.” Graham was pulling on his swim trunks, shrugging. “He’s his own man.”

Bobby glanced around the room, rubbing his shoulder. “Would it be a good time to say that Lo’s told me she feels something’s about to happen today? It’s kinda ominous that Lucas isn’t in here...”

Kassam put on his camel swim trunks and exhaled through his nose, rubbing at the corner of his eye before settling into his normal routine.

Imane had opted to sleep indoors the night before because she told him they were going through some pain in their stomach, and he had left her to sleep on the sofa after giving her adequate amounts of blankets, a mug of warm water and enough stomach kisses to make her giggle.

He woke up to her shuffling back into the daybed with him and hearing them crying, and could only pretend to roll over in his sleep to wrap an arm loosely around her waist to comfort her. The stray tabby that sometimes came along through the villa, Benatar, also hopped into the bed when it heard her crying to sit itself next to her head and purr.

He couldn’t fall asleep after that, even when she dozed off from the exhaustion of sobbing. They responded to the soft kisses he placed on her forehead and nose, where the skin was raw and red from sniffling, and whenever his hand would rub underneath her navel piercing her legs would tuck upward and she’d let out a noise of contentment.

She woke up when he was washing her face with a washcloth in the morning before Gary grabbed him for the group workout and apologised for the hassle they were to take care of.

Her dimple didn’t appear when she smiled at him. It was worrying.

He sighed again, twisting the hamsa charm around twice between his fingers, and got up with the other lads; his elbow connected with Henrik in a gentle nudge. “You’re not his keeper, Henk. He’ll show when he wants to be seen, so go shower in the meantime.”

The climber paused before he shot him a grateful smile and disappeared off into the bathroom.

Lottie was cutting banana to put into her cereal, Bobby gently hugging her from behind. She stared at him when he came in and jabbed the knife in his direction.

”Did you make my girl cry last night?” Green eyes narrowed. “She wouldn’t say anything to us when we asked.”

Kassam shook his head and started making his coffee. “Not that I’m aware of, but I’m giving them space to think.”

“If Imane wants to talk about it, she will.” The baker stole the banana chunk from in between her fingers and pressed kisses against her cheek. “Give them time.”

The makeup artist pouted, patting her partner’s neck, and sighed. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just strange to see them so upset; the last time she cried was the Rocco debacle, for good reason.” She rolled her eyes, then grimaced. “It might have something to do with Lucas, actually, now that I think about it...”

He didn’t bring up her being in pain the night before.

Priya and Elisa came in arm-in-arm, chirping quietly about something and stopping at the counter.

The real estate agent whispered, “Look up there,” and pointed at the roof terrace. The four of them could see the backs of Lucas’ and Imane’s heads, and he watched as the physiotherapist slowly slung his arm around her shoulder.

They didn’t make a move to stop him, and seemed to slump.

“She doesn’t... look too chuffed,” Elisa murmured, shaking her head. “I hope she’s okay.”

He no longer felt hungry. Graham and Henrik shared his bowl of fruit; the blueberries tasted like iron.

The small group dispersed after breakfast, and he carried his almost full cup of cold brew over to their daybed to sip on while changing the sheets.

It wasn’t good to sleep on pillows that were cried on, nor was it good to sleep on sheets a stray cat jumped onto.

Kassam had finished changing the black pillow cases and plumping them back up, the last step in his methodical bedmaking, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to see Imane holding a small cup, dressed in a dark green strappy high waisted bikini and her multiwhite trainers.

Her eyes were still slightly red, but the puffiness was gone. She wasn’t wearing any makeup or kohl.

“Can we have a chat, Kassam?” His full name felt foreign coming out of their mouth, like she was holding back from using a nickname.

He took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “Is here okay?” He plopped down the last pillow and watched her carefully perch on the edge of the bed, taking off her shoes, and then swing their legs up onto the mattress.

She took a sip from their cup, holding it up to her chest to fiddle with. Hazel eyes glanced at his hands and raised up to his nose, then met his gaze.

“I, um...” She looked down. “I thought I should tell you first before anyone else. I... I kissed Lucas last night.”

He felt the blood in his veins run cold.

They shifted, biting her lower lip. “I was half asleep and thought you came back in to check on me because he smelled like you.” She sniffled. “I should have known it wasn’t you when he wouldn’t talk to me getting in the covers, but he leaned in for a kiss. I kissed him back until he laughed and I realised it was him.”

The ice turned into fire, and he bit back a swear word by taking a sip of his cold brew.

“I’m really sorry, Kassam.” Her shoulders shook and tears rolled down her cheeks, which they quickly wiped away. “I fucked up, and I understand if you’re angry and don’t want anything to with me.”

Kassam rolled his tongue against the back of his teeth, staring at the silk curtains blowing in the breeze. He sat there quietly and slowly his eyes flitted back to her.

“Let me get this straight.” He took another sip from his glass. “He got under the covers with you, smelling like me, and made you think he was me. And when you were half asleep, he kissed you and you kissed him back?”

Imane shamefully nodded, hiding half of her face behind their knees.

He frowned and sighed, pushing the metal straw between his lips. “And why would I be angry at you and not the man who made a move on you when you were in a vulnerable state? You were asleep.”

“Because I’m your partner who allowed for it to happen?” She sniffled again, wiping at their eyes. “And you said it’s a hard line in the sand for someone to cheat on you.”

There was a lull of silence between the two of them, and he slowly exhaled through his mouth to calm his heart rate.

“You’re not wrong that I’m angry,” he started carefully, shifting on the bed so he could directly face them without turning his neck. “But I’m angry at Lucas; you didn’t put yourself in that situation.” He sipped his coffee, shaking his head. “That fucking bastard...”

They wiped at her cheeks, stifling a sob in her throat, and sat there with him, calming herself down and fiddling with their cup.

“I got really upset last night because I thought things would be over with us if you found out,” she whispered. “I laid there in bed with you praying that it was just a bad dream, and then Lucas pulled me for a chat this morning. Sure enough, it wasn't a bad dream." A humourless laugh came from her lips. "I really found something good with you after so many heartbreaks that it broke me thinking that I fucked it up and I’d never meet or deserve someone like you again, and I only had myself to blame for it.” Her head bowed.

He opened up his arms and beckoned to them, and after a moment she hesitantly shuffled forward and tucked herself into his embrace, leaning her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of their head and she sniffled.

“I’m not usually a crybaby, I swear.” Imane wiped at her eyes, laughing halfheartedly. “Lucas just convinced me that I’d never be good enough, and I believed him.”

He leaned down again and kissed her forehead, rubbing their arm comfortingly and gently wiping away any stray tears. “And who would you believe if I say you are good enough for me, love?”

She paused, pouting their lips out. “You.” Hazel eyes looked up at him and she ran a hand against the raw reddened skin on her nose, letting out a small laugh. “It’s kind of silly, now that I think about it. Of course someone who’s trying to steal me away would say that about you.” She offered a smile, her dimple half peeking out. “I get paranoid when I’m... um...”

Falling in love?

He didn’t goad her further to finish her sentence, pressing a series of kisses against their cheek and not stopping until she giggled. Her arms wrapped around him and she hugged him, hiding their face against his chest and breathing his scent in.

“You’re going to be alright.” He kissed her hair, and they stayed like that for a while, listening to the breeze and the soft chatter in the background.

She pulled away just slightly, looking up at him again. “While we’re like this, I guess it would be a good time to tell you before someone else does it for me.” Their gaze lowered and her hand rested against his arm. “And yesterday night was particularly bad anyway.”

He hummed and rubbed the small of her back. “Your stomach pain?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip, chewing it just slightly. “Do you remember me saying that I want to adopt a child when I’m older?”

Kassam nodded, taking a strand of her hair to play with.

They paused, shuffling her feet. “I have endometriosis, and the specialist said that with my circumstances it would be best for my well-being to never have a biological child. I told the producers that I can’t do their baby challenge because the sound of a baby crying is a trigger to send me spiralling, so they took it out of the roster.” She twiddled her fingers against the cup. “Before things get too serious between us, if that’s a dealbreaker for you, I understand.”

He gently kissed the side of her head. “It’s not, love.” His hands found her waist and he held them close, resting his cheek against her hair. “You’re also not a hassle to take care of; you’re just existing.”

She nodded. “I got this tattoo after my diagnosis to remind myself of that.” Her finger pointed at the phoenix tattoo on her right thigh and hip, the stretch marks on their upper thigh banding the bird, and she squeezed his hand. “Apparently I was born under a meteor shower, so it’s especially fitting.”

“Like Beirut, burned to the ground and rebuilt seven times.” The DJ leaned around her and kissed the phoenix’s beak, running his hand along the tattoo and letting it rest against the striae. He straightened, rubbing his thumb against her hip.

Her lips found his cheek, and he smiled. He bumped foreheads with them, blue eyes gazing into hazel, and hugged them, nose settled against the crook of her shoulder and neck; he breathed in jasmine and rose and green tea and brown sugar, and something jolted back into his mind.

“You said someone else in here knew you have endometriosis?”

Imane hummed affirmatively. “Lucas does.” Her arms tightened around him. “He mentioned it offhandedly on the roof terrace that he’d let you know.”

He was going to beat the shit out of that motherfucker.

Kassam breathed out, pulling away from her but keeping his hands around their waist. “I’m going to have a chat with him about...” He pulled a hand away and made a stirring motion with his pointer finger. “... this. You might want to find Lottie to do your nails and keep you inside for a while.”

She blinked rapidly at him, a dusty rose blooming on her cheeks and nose resembling the shape of a butterfly.

“Could you first help me wash up though? I want to wear your hoodie again, just for comfort.”

He nodded, letting them finish the tea in her cup and gently ushering her back into the villa and into the second floor bathroom. His hands were soft with them, guiding a warm washcloth under her eyes and over their nose, patting the raw areas and kissing them one by one to make them shy and giggle.

She looked in the mirror, pinching her cheeks. Her eyes, although slightly bloodshot, were sparkling with rejuvenated life.

“You might see this face more if we’re ever watching any sad movies.” They wrinkled her nose and smiled. “It’s about the only time I cry.”

“I’ll have tissues at the ready. Wait here.” He chuckled and planted a kiss on her forehead, hurrying down to the boys’ dressing room to grab his favourite hoodie.

When he got back in the bathroom, they had just finished applying kohl to her eyes. Seeing the traditional Surmadani bottle in her hands made his lips curl upward. She buried her face into the fabric, purring at the faint hints of his cologne mixing with his natural smell, and slipped it on.

Kassam lowered the hood from her head, and leaned in to kiss their lips. It was tender and sweet, soft and reassuring, and he could feel her slight smile against his as her hands moved to cup his cheeks.

“I promise I’m not going anywhere, love,” he whispered against their mouth, relishing in the moment of serene bliss of just them two together.

She bumped foreheads and noses with him, hazel kohl-rimmed eyes meeting blue. “I’m holding you on that promise, handsome.”

He kissed her again and sent her off to look for Lottie, returning to the daybed to fetch his coffee glass and his water bottle. The fury was flaring back up, and he washed his cup clean when he caught sight of Lucas settling down with Graham on the sun chairs by the pool.

His teeth clamped down on his tongue as he refilled his water bottle.

He twisted the cap on and immediately let his feet carry him over to the physiotherapist, who opened one eye to see who was approaching.

“Come and have a chat.” His voice was cold and with how Graham was staring at him, his gaze must be too.

Lucas frowned. “You have a strange way of asking people for their time.”

Kassam exhaled through his nose, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. “I’m not asking. Get. Up.” He used his diaphragm in the same fashion he used to in the Navy.

Sergeant Hassein was coming back for a while.

Lucas seemed frozen in place.

”I said,” he growled between bared teeth, “get up, Koh.”

There was a moment of tense silence between the two of them before the 27 year old sighed and got up, following him to the firepit. He sat down at one end of the C-shape and Lucas sat on the other end, facing each other.

“I heard you kissed Imane last night.” He tossed the water bottle in the air and caught it easily.

Dark brown eyes glinted, and the taller of the two shrugged. “So I did.”

“When she was half asleep? And thought you were me?” he barked out mercilessly, blue eyes narrowing. “You’re proud of that? You got in bed with a woman who wasn’t fully conscious, whose partner was asleep not even ten metres away, and you’re proud of that?”

The older hesitated, gaze shifting for a moment before it returned. “Not... necessarily, but this is a game after all.”

He frowned. “Hold on, I thought a game required consenting parties. What a game is, hypothetically, you walking your arse back in this villa and coming to me directly to tell me that all’s fair in love and war, that I have strong competition to graft on Imane or else I might lose them—on the basis that she liked you when you were dumped. Clearly, she didn't because if she did she would have either kissed you back or left with you, but that's besides the point.” He tossed the water bottle and caught it, pointing at the other with his second finger and glaring at him to stop the attempted interruption. “What you did was try to spread a seed of doubt to me on her intentions. I don’t know how in the fucking world you thought I would take your word over my girl’s, first of all. Whatever lunacy you think I have, I don’t.”

He held up his hand when he saw the other’s mouth open to interject. “I’m not done talking, Koh.” A short pause. “Then, you tried to lure them in with a sense of normalcy from when you were in the villa, and then behind my back you made my partner believe you were me and consent to a kiss with me. Not you, which means she didn’t consent to kissing you; she consented to kiss me, remember that." He exhaled sharply, the furrow in his brow getting deeper. "And then, you had the nerve to guilt trip her into trying to break things off with me because you coerced them into subconsciously ‘cheating’ on me by tricking her? Are you fucking okay? Do you know how low it is to come back in with tattoos to look more like me, never mind fully take advantage of Imane while making yourself smell like me?”

Lucas’ mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “I—”

“[I’m not done talking. And to make things worse, you fucking dare use her health as emotional blackmail to make her think they’re not good enough for me? For what? For satisfaction that you can make a woman feel terrible about something she can't change? Is that a game to you? Is breaking a woman a game to you?]” His voice was getting louder, scratching against the back of his throat, and for a minute it didn’t click that he was so angry that it was French he was automatically speaking in. “[You, a doctor, are using illness as a tool to get what you want? Are you fucking proud of yourself? What game are you fucking playing?]” His eyes flared up. “[Answer me!]”

The physiotherapist blinked at him, eyes shifting. There was a moment of stiff silence between them, Kassam taking the time to slightly calm down by practising mindful breathing.

He was not losing control, not over this prick.

“I didn’t mean to use her diagnosis as a one-up to make them more likely to tell you what happened.” The 27 year old sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I just thought it was important that someone who wants a child and marriage to know you might not get what you really want.”

He gritted his teeth, a flow of heavy air escaping his nose. “Listen carefully, because I will not be repeating myself. You will never be in charge of how a woman wants or doesn’t want to be a mother; Imane and I talked in Casa Amor about how we felt about marriage and children, and they told me that they wanted to adopt and nothing about having a biological child at all. Do you think that if that was something I was against, I’d still be here?”

Lucas didn’t say anything.

“Do you think that if she were able to have biological children yet still wanted to adopt, I’d try to convince them otherwise? I, as a man, have no fucking business telling a woman how to govern her body, nor do you.” His eyes narrowed and his voice quieted, but the rage still was there. “I frankly don’t give a shit about your opinion on marriage and having kids, because the way you dangle their infertility like it’s a dirty secret that would break up a budding relationship tells me enough, and it’s probably the toxic Asian masculinity we both were raised in socially speaking through you.” He tossed his bottle up in the air again and caught it. “A woman can be a mother however the fuck she pleases, and I will be happy with her choice and support them, both financially and emotionally, and love a child who’s had it rough all the same as I would if the kid were biologically mine. Indirectly saying Imane deserves to be in a relationship where she feels like they must remain childless or feels like she needs to be with someone who doesn’t want a kid because she can’t conceive is cruel. Maybe let your ego and pride take a seat and sort out what the hell’s going on in here,” he pointed at the side of his own head, “before you project beliefs that aren’t yours, but your parents’ or your grandparents’, onto people that are mentally and socially affected by what you say.”

The physiotherapist’s mouth opened as if he was going to speak, but no sound came out.

He was hitting a nerve.

Kassam leaned back, feeling the cold stone of the backrest against his skin. “I don’t expect an apology, or frankly want one, from you. Sit with your thoughts for a while, call the welfare team if you need it, but I hope before all of this is over you have the fucking guts to apologise to Imane. She deserves one, with everything you have put them through.” He sighed. “You can steal her during the next recoupling but I’m not giving up on her because you want me to, and I doubt they’ll be happy with you. There’s no one else here for me, and if I’m wrong and Imane chooses you during the final recoupling, I’m walking out.”

He got up, but Lucas did not. His feet carried him a few steps away, and he turned his head.

His voice was low when he spoke again. “Before I forget, I wanted to let you know exactly why I’m so pissed these are the tattoos you chose to have.” He pointed at his left forearm, at the two filled in bands.

Dark brown eyes looked into blue, and Kassam lowered his arm.

“These are the tattoos I got twelve years after I lost my dad and my brother. They were both born on the twelfth of their birthmonth.” He glared at him, even when the other’s expression turned stunned. “The tattoos on me all mean something significant, down to the placement and orientation, and for some people like you, it might come as a shock that ink isn’t just to make someone look edgy.” He bit down on his tongue slightly. "Maybe learn how to see things outside of your point of view, maybe. That’s all I have to say to you. I don’t owe you shit.”

He walked away after that, feeling the eyes around the villa on him as he walked back into the kitchen.

Bobby and Henrik were in there, and both of them whistled quietly.

“That was... something to watch.” The climbing instructor munched on a cherry tomato. “Graham was on standby the entire time just to make sure things didn't escalate physically."

Kassam shook his head slowly, rubbing his forearm tattoos slightly. “A younger me would have gotten physical with him, but I’m better than that now. Anger be damned or not, I'm not giving him the satisfaction.” He raised his left hand and turned it to look at the old scars that were barely visible against his knuckles.

Bobby offered him a freshly made apple fritter, a look of pure awe dancing in light brown eyes. “You conducted yourself better than I ever could’ve in that situation.” He leaned in when the DJ accepted the pastry, making sure to keep his voice low. “You’re the first guy to stand up for their lass like that. Didn’t hear much of the conversation, except some very loud French, but I did see Imane’s name getting thrown around a lot.”

“Mm.” He bit into the fritter, chewing and tasting the slight tartness of citrus in the glaze. He wiped the corner of his mouth before speaking again. “I just don’t like my girl being disrespected or taken advantage of. Other than that, I’m a pretty chilled out person.”

Elisa sauntered in, followed by Gary, and she smiled at him. “Nice one, Captain.” She leaned in close. “[Now I see why Graham’s glad to see you back in here. You’ve got a spine.]”

He heard heels clicking against the second floor balcony that was connected to the girls’ dressing room and looked up; Imane and Lottie were looking down at the scene, and the brunette offered him a gentle smile and a small wave.

She looked happy.

He smiled back and winked.

He spent most of the afternoon lounging on the roof terrace reading and writing in his lyric journal alone, and just when the sky was beginning to turn shades of orange and yellows was when he heard the door to the terrace click open and quiet footsteps sneaking their way up the stairs.

Bobby’s head popped into view and he pressed a finger up to his mouth. “I think you should hear what’s happening right now, mate.” His voice wasn’t above a whisper. “Come on, follow me.”

“What now?” Kassam grunted, sitting up on the terrace bench to stretch slightly, and collected his things before quietly trotting down the stairs after the shorter man. He followed him through the communal bedroom and into the hallway, and the sound of Henrik’s voice from the first bathroom on their right got louder.

“—the fuck were you thinking? Holy shit, who are you?”

There was a moment of silence before Lucas’ voice said something muffled.

“I don’t care!” The blond’s Swedish accent got more pronounced when he was pissed. “Do you think I’m the same Henrik that came in here with you? You told me before you left that I needed to stick up for my own more, and that’s exactly what I’ve learned to do without you in here! Hell, you’re an asshole for not knowing when to quit. You’re freaking me out! I thought I knew who you were, Lucas.”

Again, Lucas’ voice said something.

“I’m fucking disappointed... That’s what I am. I couldn’t give less of a damn if Imane wasn’t your main target, but the collateral you’ve done... As Imane’s previous partner, I can tell you straight that you’re dead to her and Kassam, and you’re half dead to me. I’m so, so unbelievably angry at you that you’d fucking think my morals can be put to the test like this. I’d let it slide if Imane was fully conscious, but this?”

Kassam nudged Bobby and tilted his head toward the stairs leading to the first floor, mouthing “I’ve heard enough”. He got the message and the two of them headed downstairs and into the mens’ dressing room.

Graham and Gary were in there, chatting. The fisherman nodded at him when they came in.

“I’ve never seen you talk that much ever until today.” The ginger raised a brow while smiling. “You had the entire villa stop in their tracks, Captain.”

“Call that the freeze frame effect I have on people when I’m angry. Worked a couple of wonders back in the day.” The DJ pulled off his hoodie and flexed his arms, gently rubbing at his biceps with his thumbs. “I might not fit in any of my good shirts, lads... My arms and pecs are still telling me to piss off.” He shook his head.

Bobby snorted. “’Oh no, it must be so hard to be so hot~ Oh no~ What ever will I do?’” He laughed when the taller smacked him on the shoulder, the two others cackling. “I’m kidding! All jokes around here, I think we're all in the same boat.”

"You get used to it, sunshine." Graham grinned. "Maybe next time less complaining during training and more actual training is in store for you."

He slipped on a black muscle t-shirt, feeling the fabric hug his biceps more tightly than usual and seeing his chest definition more prominently against the shirt; to test, he attempted to slip one arm into his green silk dress shirt and felt it give resistance to being pulled up all the way.

Yeah, he was dressing casual tonight.

His swim trunks got replaced with plaid heather grey trousers and a gold chain belt, and he easily zipped into his Amiri combat boots to add an inch to his stature. His legs were still on fire, but they looked good in the trousers.

Something was missing from his outfit. He opened his vanity drawer and saw Imane’s earrings sparkling in the harsh light of the LED mirror.

After a moment, he reached for one to attach on his belt and smiled satisfactorily when it tinkled against the other metal.

Kassam jumped onto the rocking bench and lied down to take a short breather and stretch out his limbs, listening to the small chatter happening in the room as the others got ready. Henrik and Lucas still were absent even as the four of them moved back to the outside.

Imane was scooping something piping hot from a sauté pan into a large bowl when he slinked onto one of the island high stools; she smiled at him, their eyes roaming over his figure and he could have sworn her tongue peeked out to lick the corner of their mouth when they looked at his chest.

“I made mujadara.” Her hands scooted the bowl in between the two of them. The smell of caramelised onion, kimchi and chilli-garlic oil hit his nose, making his mouth water. “Enough to share with someone, if they’d like some.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer.” He took one of the spoons laid out on a napkin and tucked in, making a noise of pure bliss when spicy, salty and sweet melted on his tongue with the fresh herbs and well-seasoned rice and toum. “This is so good...”

They giggled and put the pan in the sink for washing later. “I rate someone who appreciates my labour of love this much.” She sat herself down on the stool next to him and helped themself, her available hand resting against his bicep and giving it a subtle rub as the two of them ate.

From the corner of his eye, Kassam saw Henrik walk out and head toward the porch bed swing where Priya and Chelsea were sitting.

“Are you feeling better, love?” He looked over to the brunette, who was looking back at him.

She nodded and smiled, their dimple present. “The girls and I had a really nice time bonding and having an outdoors spa by the pool, and Lottie and Elisa did my nails.” She showed off her fingernails, which were now sheer acrylic pink with slanted black and white French tips; their ring fingers were accented with subtle glitter. It went well with their black halter top and white trousers and the black Eden pumps, and her eyes no longer were bloodshot.

He chuckled and took another bite of mujadara, pushing the bowl over to her so she could have the last bite. “That’s good to hear. It broke me seeing you so upset.”

Imane’s eyes widened at the gesture, and she blushed and kissed his cheek before polishing off the bowl. “I’m not used to guys fighting for me, handsome.”

“You’re going to need to get used to it if you’re with me and someone disrespects you.” The DJ wiped his mouth and kissed her hair, feeling them lean into his touch. “I’ll always fight for you, but only after making sure you’re alright first.”

She patted her lips with the napkin and bumped foreheads with him, hazel eyes sparkling. “Thank you, Sammi.”

Her heels clicked against the floor again as she got up and walked to the sink with the empty bowl and spoons, placing them carefully on top of the pan, and pulled out the small tin of ginger mints in the drawer next to it. They popped one in her mouth and offered the tin to him.

Kassam took one and stood, closing the distance between them to wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her bare shoulder tenderly; the smell of rose and brown sugar and honey made his heart squeeze.

“You don’t need to thank me, Nova.” He let out a sigh, rolling the mint around his mouth as his lips kissed upward toward her jaw.

Imane held his hands close and laced their fingers together. “I want to, though. You’re... really something special.”

The moth fluttered back in, resting itself right above his belly button.

They stayed like that for a moment before she turned around in his arms and cupped his cheeks warmly.

“If Lucas does end up breaking us apart,” she whispered, “I hope you know that I’ll find a way back to you.” Her lips curled up forlornly, a tinge of sadness in their eyes. “I’ll sleep on a daybed, I won’t crack on with him, I’ll even convince Henrik and Priya to sleep outside with me... Whatever it takes, I'll do it. I'll even walk out with you if that's what you want.” Hazel eyes didn't waver. "I don't care about winning if it's not with you."

The thought made his stomach twist, but his heart thudded out of rhythm as he bumped foreheads with her. He stuck up his little finger and held it out in between them.

“Pinky promise?”

She smiled and kissed the fingertip before slipping hers against his, interlocking them together. “Pinky promise.”

They both leaned in just as the sound of heels came clicking against the pavement, breaking the moment, and they looked over to see Sophie strutting out the back entrance of the house, smiling.

“Hi everyone, please gather at the firepit immediately.”

Lucas still was nowhere to be seen, even with the Islanders slowly assembling at the C-shaped lounge couch. Kassam glanced at Imane, and he saw the concern in her eyes; he gave her one last hug and kissed her hair before reluctantly letting go and looping an arm around their waist to walk her toward the rest of the group.

Bobby and Lottie were looking equally as worried, and the blonde gave her friend a kiss on the cheek.

Sophie whistled and stood before the 12 Islanders. “Tonight, Lucas will be picking his new partner in the villa; if he chooses one of the single girls, the other will need to pack her bags and leave the island tonight. If he chooses one of the girls in a couple, the new single boy must choose one single girl to recouple with and send the other packing.” Her lips pressed together. “From all of your faces, you seem nervous.” Blue eyes locked onto his. “Kassam, I watched your confrontation with the returning fella. Do you think the tension between the two of you puts you and Imane as the top couple he might break up?”

The Algerian shrugged, though the hand on Imane’s hip squeezed her. “I said my piece to him, and that’s what I needed to do. If he does steal Imane, I just hope he treats them decently. That’s all I have to say on the matter; it’s not in my hands anymore.”

Quietly, the physiotherapist walked out from the back terrace, in a simple white dress shirt and cuffed camel trousers, and headed toward the firepit. He stopped next to Sophie.

“Lucas, it’s time to choose the girl you’d like to couple up with.”

He watched as the man in front of them let out an exhale and rubbed the back of his neck.

“When I came to the villa the first time around, it felt like I was the big fish in a small pond and coming back in I was still in the mindset that I was just that, that I was the one who got away.” Dark brown eyes locked into blue. “But I don’t think that’s the case now... I’ve made massive, massive mistakes that I couldn’t fathom were the wrong choices when I made them. This afternoon and evening have been very reflective for me, and before I do make my decision, I need to make it clear that this decision isn’t supposed to make any of the people I’ve wronged forgive me.” His expression turned slightly somber. “I actually don’t expect forgiveness at all at this point; my choice tonight is purely to say that I’m doing the best I can to right my wrongs, and though it’s the choice I was set on upon my second arrival it’s taken on a new meaning after I messed up.”

Lucas paused for a minute.

“This girl’s a bit of the polar opposite of me, and I think I need more of that in my life: to not take myself so seriously and live in the present. I don’t think about the fear that I’m missing out on freedom when I’m with her, because she’s so easygoing and chipper even with the emotional maturity that I reckon I need to learn. I can help her out with the emotional regulation end of things, but she’s been growing on me.”

He looked to the left of them. “The girl I’d like to couple up with is Chelsea.”

Immediately, the tension in the air dropped and the interior designer, dressed in a champagne pink pantsuit, rushed over to hug him which he graciously returned her and gave the top of her head a kiss.

Sophie clapped along with the other Islanders, smiling. “That was a very touching speech, Lucas... This means you and Chelsea are the sixth couple in the villa, and that you two are safe for the time being. You can take your place next to the other couples.” She stopped clapping and looked over at Marisol, which the others did as well.

The law student had a blank look on her face, as if she was holding back a frown.

“Marisol, because you were not chosen, you unfortunately will need to leave the villa tonight. You have half an hour to say your goodbyes and pack your things.”

The Islanders stirred as if to move, but the host put up a hand to keep them in their places.

“But, I’m not just here to be the bearer of bad news.” Sophie’s eyes glittered. “Imane and Graham, remember when you won Shaken and Stirred? Come on up and know what your prize is.”

Imane hugged him and he let her go; she and Graham stood facing the group.

“You two have won a date outside of the villa tonight; you may choose any of the individuals in front of you, regardless of if you’re in a couple with them, to accompany you. The night is still young.” She pointed at the sky, which was barely showing the hints of violet of mid-sunset. “Choose your dates and then I’ll let you in on where you’re off to. Graham, please choose first.”

The fisherman smiled crookedly, a smile Kassam’s never seen when he was coupled with Marisol, and folded his arms contently. “This isn’t very difficult for me. I’d like to go on a date with Elisa.”

The social media influencer strode over and put out her hand in a princess-like way, laughing when he took it and kissed her knuckle. “You’re shaping into a prince just fine, Eric.”

“Sure sure, Ariel.” The ginger slung his arm around Elisa’s waist and held her in front of him, still smiling.

Imane looked over at Sophie, who nodded at her, before hazel eyes gazed at him. A soft smile lit up their face, glossy brown lips curling upward. “I think the person I want to take on the date knows who he is.” Her eyes fell to his belt. “And he’s wearing something of mine already.”

Kassam pretended to look around at the others before he pointed at himself questioningly, a brow raised. “Who, me?”

The brunette hid their smile behind a hand and nodded. “You’re a dork, Kassam. Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His full name sounded so beautiful against her lips.

He walked back toward her and gave them a kiss on the cheek, looping his arm around her waist again. Henrik, Priya, Lottie and Bobby were wearing massive shit-eating smiles on their faces.

“The Casa Lads are still bringing it.” Sophie grinned ear to ear. “Graham and Elisa, you two are off to enjoy yourselves in the natural habitat of the sea on Odyssey III, docked in its port at Paseo Maritimo de Palma, for a yacht dinner. Imane and Kassam, you two are headed to Port de Pollenca’s top rated restaurant, No.31. Don’t worry, your budget was mostly spent on this.” Blue eyes twinkled and she tossed a key fob at Kassam, which at an immediate touch he knew was a Porsche key. “I heard that the car model you’ll be driving in is near and dear to one of you.”

The DJ nodded slightly, and the host winked.

“Now then, I’ll leave you all to prepare and say your goodbyes to Marisol. I’ll be seeing you at a later time. Have a good one!”

The Islanders sent her off with a smattering of farewells, and Kassam turned to look at his partner. “You can say goodbye to her before we leave.”

Imane glanced over at the small crowd gathering around the dumped girl, then looked back at him.

“I think I’m okay. Can I meet you at the front in 15 minutes? I want to get changed.”

He nodded and pecked her softly on the lips, watching her follow Graham and Elisa indoors.

“Kassam, may I grab you for a quick chat?” Lucas’ voice came from close behind him, and he turned around.

The added inch from his combat boots made both of them the same height.

The physiotherapist looked slightly sheepish as he rubbed his jaw, dark eyes looking at something past him before meeting his gaze.

“Sure.”

There was a phase of silence between the two of them before the 27 year old spoke quietly.

“I meant what I said just now, that I don’t expect forgiveness from either you or Imane. My pride gets in the way a lot, and it’s hard for me to say sorry; I’m slowly working up to it, I swear, but for now I’m saying with a full promise that I won’t be in the way of you two.” Lucas’ lips pressed together and turned downward at the corner. “I lived a very sheltered life, and it bites me in the back sometimes. It’s none of my business to know your story or how you lost part of your family, so don’t feel pressured to tell anything you don’t want to. I’m just here to say you’re definitely the bigger man between the two of us, being self-made and achieving more than a cushy military brat like me.” His right hand slowly stuck out in an offering of a handshake. “Getting into Cambridge on a full scholarship is definitely more difficult than getting into Oxford, I admit that as a former Oxfordian.”

Kassam stared at the hand being offered, the sinews and veins on the back of his hand prominent from years and years of work on other human bodies. He slipped his own, more lithe hand against the doctor’s, and they shook on it twice.

“You might want to tell Chelsea about what you did, if you haven’t,” he said evenly, pulling his hand away. “News around the villa rarely stays contained, so get off on a good foot with her by telling her the truth before someone else does.”

Lucas nodded. “Once you and Imane leave tonight, I will.” His hands returned into his pockets, and a shade of pink spread on his cheeks. “Before I forget, the new tattoos are temporary. They’ll be gone within a few weeks, but until then I’ll... sort something out to cover them.”

With that, the physiotherapist disappeared back into the firepit crowd. Marisol was no longer there.

He headed inside and walked into the house, slipping into the mens’ dressing room.

Graham was redressed in a more spiffy outfit and fixing his watch on a wrist. He grinned at the sight of the DJ. “Excited for your date, Captain?”

“You know it.” He shrugged into his leather jacket and fixed the lapels before spritzing cologne on his pulse points. His fingers slid open his vanity drawer to pull out the small black velvet box that fit in the palm of his hand. “I think I might be ready to do something, actually.”

The tradesman cocked an eyebrow and glanced over his mirror; Kassam opened the box to show him the matching bracelet to the one he was wearing, and brown eyes widened. “Fucking hell, are you asking them to be...?”

“I don’t really buy the entire boyfriend-girlfriend thing, not for myself at least.” The Algerian shook his head, closing the box and slipping it into his jacket’s inside pocket. “I’m just asking them to be exclusive, and once we’re on the outside and go the distance I might just propose within the next year and get married within the next 2.” He smiled. “I’ve got a good feeling about her.”

“Ah, same difference. A relationship without the boyfriend-girlfriend label is still exclusive.” Graham chuckled. “But good on you for sticking to your guns.” He got up. “You ready to head out, sailor?”

Kassam scooped the key fob from the vanity and nodded, following the taller out and into the tracks of Marisol, who was standing in the long hallway looking oddly vulnerable.

“Before I go,” the girl murmured while adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses, “you two are the ones I need to really apologise to. If you want to hear it, that is...”

Graham and him shared a look before glancing back at her.

“I... I had a crush on Imane the entire time here, and it made me so extremely jealous that I acted like a cow to both of you. I’m not mad that I’m the one being dumped, because my time’s up and I think the public’s seen how I’ve tried it on with all the guys and the girls who were also into it.” Her eyes looked at him particularly. “I’m sorry, Kassam... for lying to Lucas about how Imane felt about him and indirectly making him do what he did last night, and also for being unnecessarily catty toward you because you were the only person Imane really showed signs of fancying. I’m glad they were headstrong and didn’t believe me when I tried to dissuade them from taking you back, or the fact you didn’t care when I lied about half the villa being after her. It was only Noah at that point; Henrik and Bobby just had to sort out their feelings.”

Her gaze went to Graham. “And I’m sorry, Graham, for everything I put you through. You didn’t deserve what I did at all; deceiving you to make Imane jealous was so stupid on my part. It clearly didn’t work, and it bit me back in the end.” She smiled. “You and Elisa have something good going on, and I’m happy for you two.”

She bowed her head. “Well, that’s it from me. Good luck with everything, both in here and on the outside.”

And with that, Marisol walked to the front doors, where her luggage was all packed and waiting, and wheeled them out by herself.

“Huh.” The fisherman blinked and folded his arms. “That was... something.”

He hummed in agreement just as there were two pairs of heels clicking against the spiralling steps to their right; they both turned, and Kassam’s eyes widened.

Imane came down the stairs in a black diamante strappy mini dress and their black and gold Eden heels, a black Serpenti Forever crossbody slung against their bare shoulder. Her lips were blotted and coloured a faint matte shade of reddish brown, and their hair was up in a classy bun with a gold-chained hair claw. Twisted gold hoops adorned the first lobe placements, with the rest of their piercings remaining exactly the same.

Elisa was trailing behind her in a forest green dress, but his eyes never left his partner.

The taller woman smiled and pressed a kiss against his lips, purring when his hands found their waist. “What do you think?”

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he whispered against her mouth and kissed her again. “I’m a lucky man.”

She giggled and took his available hand, and both of them oriented themselves to wait patiently for Graham and Elisa, who seemed mesmerised with each other. Kassam cleared his throat, and the couple jumped out of it, laughing.

“Sorry,” the tradie coughed and grinned. “Let’s roll out.”

The four of them walked through the front doors, spotting the Rolls-Royce with a driver parked in front of the volcano grey Taycan 4S in the driveway.

The same colour as the one he drove.

There were wolf whistles from the smoke balcony, and he looked up to see the rest of the Islanders crowded and cheering.

“You drive a Porsche, Kassam?” Bobby yelled, a giant smirk on his face. “Prince Naveen of DJs, truly!”

“Only in Dubai!” He unlocked the car and walked Imane to the passenger seat, opening the door for them. “My lady.”

She blushed and slid into the car, and he shut the door behind her, walking around the back and catching Graham’s eye as he opened the driver’s side.

The ginger winked and did his two-finger salute, which he returned, and slipped into the backseat of the Rolls-Royce.

The Taycan smelled of clean leather and rosewood from the air freshener attachment, the engine purring beneath them as he set the interior LED lights to purple. Imane was fidgeting with their phone, connecting it to the car’s Bluetooth; soon enough, R&B started quietly playing through the surround sound system, and he easily navigated the touchscreen for GPS directions.

“This kind of feels like our first official date that would resemble one on the outside, handsome.” Her hand found his on the centre console after he put the car into drive and pulled out of the villa.

He chuckled and let his thumb circle a pressure point on their palm. “You might be onto something, love. I’m into trying out local restaurants and new places I’ve never been before I find my tried and trues, so if this is something you’d also be into on the outside, we fit like a glove.”

“That we do.” She exhaled, relaxing in the leather seat. “Was a Porsche your dream car?”

Kassam kept his eyes on the road, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it. “It actually was a Ferrari back in the day because I had a death wish. Buying the Taycan was an evolved version of the present a 16-year old me would have killed for.” He pressed another kiss against her skin and breathed the fragrance of them in. “It suits my aesthetic, doesn’t it?”

“More than suits you.” Her fingertips traced over the veins connecting his thumb to his wrist. “Why buy it in Dubai though?”

He hit the motorway and stepped on the gas. “I’m planning on moving there permanently within the next few years, before I hit thirty. A lot of family’s concentrated in the Emirates, and it feels more like a home to me than England’s ever been. I don’t mind flying back for work, but I can’t see myself happy in either London, Manchester or Newcastle for the longterm.” His eyes glanced over at the woman next to him, seeing the soft gaze she was using to look at him, before looking back at the road. “Why are you looking at me like that, love?”

There was a pause where neither of them spoke, and Imane laughed.

“We might have met again, even without this show.” Her other hand traced along his arm. “I’m in the process of moving back to Dubai, since I already graduated, but it’s a slow move until I fully get my license. I’m not in a rush, and I already have family that I can stay with for the time being if I do fly back and forth between England and there.” She kissed his shoulder. “I always wanted to get married there before thirty, settle down and have a family… It felt like a faraway dream when I was in university, but it feels so right for me to go back.”

A smile creeped onto his lips and he squeezed their hand. “You’re unreal, you know that?”

“Says you.” Imane crossed their legs, stroking his forearm. “Matched for the first time in Dubai, from rival universities in England, now reunited in Spain and given a real shot at love. It’s a once in a century chance, handsome.”

Kassam easily adjusted the wheel to let the car cruise through the winding coastline, his eyes catching sight of the drone trailing them to the side. “A nerdy DJ and a clinical social worker-to-be that looks like a model? Oh, absolutely.”

A manicured hand gently smacked him on the chest at the compliment and his shoulders shook slightly with genuine laughter.

It was the youngest he’s felt in a long time.

“What car do you drive back home, love?” His thumb graced over her knuckles and he kissed their hand gently, still laughing silently, glancing at the touchscreen GPS to keep track of where they were.

They chuckled and let him keep holding her hand while tapping the digital interface in the centre. “A black NSX. It was a birthday gift from my aunt when I turned 24.”

“Hybrid-electric sports car girl, I like it.” He smiled. “Come from an affluent family?”

“Sort of, my parents and their siblings really were the first generation of wealth but they never spoiled us unless it was for a birthday or a special occasion. They wanted us to keep ourselves grounded and make sure we’d be okay even during times of struggle, and I really appreciate that. We’re a fine group of kids now, with our own hopes and dreams, with good heads on our shoulders.” Imane’s fingers twiddled against his, thumb and pointer finger brushing over the PIP joint of his middle finger as if subtly measuring it.

“Reckon people in the villa pegged you as a posh brown girl on first impressions?” Kassam chuckled, pulling out of the motorway and into the proper exit leading to Port de Pollenca.

The brunette made a noise of exasperation. “It comes with the territory, even on the outside. I have my close-knit group of friends and my family backing me, and everyone else can judge however they please.”

Attagirl.

He caught sight of one of the set assistants standing in front of the restaurant, next to valet, and easily pulled up against the curb; it didn’t take long for him to exit out the driver’s side and open Imane’s door for them.

“My lady,” he murmured and felt the flower in his chest bloom when she smiled lopsidedly at him and took his hand.

“Don’t test me, Saint.” They pecked him on the cheek as the two of them headed inside and were greeted by a server, who led them to an outdoor booth fixed with string lights and lanterns and quiet, ambient jazz.

He watched Imane’s facial expression as they looked over the menu, long and curled eyelashes softly blinking and catching the light and making them appear almost dark caramel brown. Her plush lips pressed against each other slightly when they were thinking, and the lantern light made their thin diamante straps gleam and flash however subtle way she moved, the elegant slope of her neck into their shoulders so evident from their hair being pinned up.

He could see them like this forever.

Hazel eyes looked up at him, taupe and soft brown shadow blended across their eyelids, and she smiled. “What are you looking at, handsome?”

Kassam covered the left side of his face with a hand. “The view.”

“You’re so cheeky.” The serene blush that fell across her cheeks made his heart stammer, and Imane hid the lower half of her face with her fingers. “You make me feel so pretty, Sammi.”

It’s because she was.

The server came back to take their order of endive and halloumi, vegetable banh trang and a side of cut pineapple and pomegranate juice.

“Nothing else for the two of you?” The blond waiter winked at Imane.

“We’re all set.” She didn’t miss a beat, handing back both of their menus.

The DJ chuckled and raised his glass of water. “Cheers to me enduring servers hitting on you for the first time?”

“Cheers to the many servers we will inevitably interact with who will hit on you.” She clinked glasses with him, the sound reverberating through the air. “I don’t even think a ring on our fingers will stop them.”

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he smirked. “Are you the jealous type?”

Her lips parted, sipping on water. “Only in the bedroom. Couldn’t be bothered if you don’t entertain them but I might be slightly possessive when we get home.”

“Oh, baby...” He held up his right hand and wiggled the ring finger. “Lock me up and throw away the key.”

“Don’t tempt me. You already have my earring on your belt.” They smiled behind her glass as another server returned with their drinks and small bowl of pineapple; she took a chunk of the yellow fruit and bit into it.

The two of them snacked on the pineapple and drank their pomegranate juice; Imane’s eyes twinkled with a certain look that made him feel like a prey animal being watched by a predator in broad daylight. Their gaze was slightly primal, dark and hungry for something.

It was quite hot.

But just like that, the look was gone, replaced with their usual cool demeanour. Their food came out and even without speaking on it beforehand, they traded bites of their dishes.

The banh trang was tangy and seasoned perfectly, with the wheat gluten being fried but chewy on the inside to give extra texture. He nodded and swallowed, watching Imane take a bite of his endive and make a noise of affirmative joy.

“[You look so much more comfortable when you’re alone with me outside of the villa.]” Their French was soft in tone as they patted their lips with a napkin.

He swallowed his next bite and smiled. “[What makes you say that?]”

“[You’re less... out of your own element.]” She giggled and took a sip of water. “[Then again, the villa environment isn’t a usual one. You’re charming in there but it seems like you’re always ‘On’ and cautious, which aren’t bad things. Out here, even in the car, you’re so relaxed and chatty.]”

Kassam felt the pestering moth flying around his insides, and he leaned forward to put his elbows on the table. “[On the introvert to extrovert scale, I fall somewhere in the very middle. I’ve been this way for the longest time and it sometimes freaks people out, learning that I absorb different energy when I'm alone compared to when I'm hanging out socialising.]” He looked down and then back up at them, their eyes never wavering. “[When I’m in an unfamiliar setting like a communal villa with people I’d never really meet if I weren’t there, it feels safe to retreat into my own head and keep my cards close but still be present. Being here with you, away from everyone else, feels very natural for me to be doing, so you can say I’m coming down from my solitary tree and being more social.]”

Her nose crinkled as she subdued a smile, and instead they raised an eyebrow. “[Are you comparing yourself to a panther, handsome?]”

“[Maybe.]” He stole another bite of their banh trang, letting her polish off the rest. “[I’ve been told I have big cat energy.]”

“[Hmm~ So that makes me the deer you’re chasing?]” There was amusement in her tone. “[I could do with more primal antics in my life.]”

His ears went warm at the thought and he felt heat rush to his neck. He cleared his throat and nodded. “[We can add it to the roster of shared kinks.]”

They could talk about him preferring to be the prey at another time.

When both of them finished their food, he casually slid the box out from his jacket and passed off the movement as reaching for the mints he had in the same pocket. His hand underneath the table caught it as he opened the tin to offer Imane one; she did and he propped the box against his thighs to take one as well.

“Before we get out of here,” he murmured as he popped the mint in his mouth, “I wanted to ask you something and give you something.”

Imane’s eyes went wide. “Sammi...?”

Kassam smiled and rolled down his sleeve to let them see the tiger’s eye Rose des Vent bracelet. “I bought this five days before we matched on that dating app; it’s become a little bit of a lucky charm for me. The wind rose’s given the right direction to follow these last two years in my journey through life, and it’s led me straight back to you, after all this time.” He let his hand grab the box and set it on the table. “Consider this an ode, even without me needing to play piano or sing or drop a mixtape dedicated to you.”

He opened the box to show the matching malachite bracelet. “I hope this wind rose, if you accept it, can be the start of us building a future together as a couple. Even when we’re apart physically, it will always lead us back to each other.”

Her hands covered their mouth as a blush bloomed against her cheeks and nose. “Oh my god.” She looked up at him. “Sammi...” Their fingers moved to show the massive smile on her face, lighting up the outdoor area like a thousand suns. “I’d love to.”

“The EP in your name’s coming after marriage, I promise.” The DJ nimbly took the thin gold chain out and fastened the bracelet on their left wrist, smiling when the charm twinkled in the light. “I just want you to know that I see a future with you, love. You might just be the queen I’ve been looking for.”

Imane stood up and walked over to his side of the table, and she hugged him when he rose as well. She smelled of jasmine sambac and rose and sage and vanilla, and his arms tightened around them.

“[I love you, Sammi.]” Her voice whispered.

Je te kiffe, Sammi.

The words hit him square in the chest and knocked the breath out of his lungs, like he was pushed into a swimming pool without warning. It was as if he was suspended in water, floating but drowning, and the blood rushed in his ears for a moment before everything quieted and a manicured hand reached through the surface to grab him and pull him up for air, and he was back in her arms breathing in her fragrance.

“Moi aussi. Mon coeur s’enflamme en pensant à toi, Nova.” His voice was quiet, pleading that she was the only one to hear him.

Me too. My heart sets on fire when you’re in my thoughts.

She gently tilted her head to bump foreheads with him, hazel eyes opening to look into his soul before they leaned in and kissed him.

It felt different this time, full of conviction and soft desire, how her lips slotted and moved against his so perfectly. He kissed her slowly, patiently, and murmured the words against their mouth.

I love you.

The sheet of paper that kept their feelings to themselves was no longer there; he loved her. The ache in his very core when they told him that she’d find her way back to him if Lucas did indeed steal them away, the anger and the fire he had when saw how hurt and defeated she was after being taken advantage of and manipulated, the sudden weight lifted when Lucas chose Chelsea—he loved her.

They were Prometheus, giving him a different flame—a gentler fire, that of pink and blue and green and gold.

Imane pulled away and smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks as her left hand took his right. The wind roses brushed against each other and tinkled. “We’re exclusive now, handsome.”

“Off the market, two years later.” He chuckled, pecked her softly on the cheek, and let her lead him out to the valet, where the Taycan was pulling up to the curb. He gave a nod and a thank you to the valet driver, and opened up the passenger door. “My lady.”

She raised an eyebrow, the upturn of her lips turning into a smirk, but she got in.

The drive back was relatively quieter, the two of them basking in the atmospheric lights and the distant stars beginning to emerge in the night sky. She comfortably settled her cheek against his shoulder, fiddling with his free hand, after reapplying their lipstick in the sun visor mirror.

When he pulled the car up into the driveway and went to turn off the engine after putting the car in park, her hand stopped him.

“[Calling me your lady three times in a night... Surely you know it makes me feel a certain way, Saint.]” The dangerous look in their eyes was back, and she tapped the touchscreen to make his seat recline and move back.

His heart stammered when her hand found his neck and caressed downward. “[You looked really pretty, so it seemed natural for me to call you My Lady.]”

Imane chuckled, sliding over the centre console easily to straddle his hips and tower over his figure, still rubbing and scratching lightly along his neck and shoulders and chest like a large cat would sharpen its claws. “[Would you like to play with me, pretty boy?]”

Would you like to play with me?

The French reverberated in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat as he swallowed. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating when he inhaled as she caressed his cheek, floral and musk and vanilla and amber.

“[Yes, Miss.]” He kissed her wrist, and she purred.

“[What an eager boy, worshipping me already.]” They shrugged him out of his jacket and tossed it onto the passenger seat, looking at him with dark, greedy eyes. “[Your safe word is ‘illusion’, if you would like to stop at any time. Say it once so I know you’ll remember.]”

Kassam easily said it, feeling the thrum of the seat under him from the quiet R&B bass. He felt a tingle down his spine when her hand smoothed over his chest and a finger put slight pressure on his nipple, and a soft groan came from his lips.

She smiled and gave his jaw a series of soft kisses. “[Any hard limits?]”

“[No hard slapping or hitting, keep the fluids to us and not the car please.]” His eyes shifted. “[I also didn’t bring protection with me.]”

Her gaze turned gentle as they reached over into their bag, pulling out a few small square packets and splaying her fingers like she were holding playing cards to show him different choices of condoms and three different lube options in the soft purple light. “[I also brought a sachet of wet wipes, just in case.]” She winked. “[A good domme is always prepared.]”

He honed in on the ribbed and dotted condom packet he knew all too well, feeling his pupils blow out just slightly. “[Sex is back on the table.]” His hand reached out to grab the purple square and one of the lube sachets and dropped them in the cup holder.

“[So no slapping or hitting or bodily fluids on the car?]” Imane hummed and licked up his Adam’s apple, smiling when she felt it bob. “[You have my word. I’ll take care of you.]” Another chuckle. “[I just enjoy playing with my food before I eat, tiger.]”

The heavily tinted windows truly were a perk.

He swallowed, feeling a slight spark ignite in his gut as her hand trailed down to his abs and clawed him through his shirt.

“[Can I... get a kiss from you, My Lady? Please?]”

She smiled, caressing his jaw and cheek with their thumb. “[Of course, pretty boy. Come here.]”

Their lips met, and he almost moaned at the intensity and feverish wanting the contact brought him, the heat and pressure of their hips against his crotch causing him to press upward just slightly. His feet shuffled to plant themselves fully on the vehicle mat to give him an anchor point as his hands found the back of her bare thighs, and when she tutted at him and forced his arms above his head he could feel his dick twitch against his pants.

“[Did you get permission to touch me, tiger?]” Her fingers tugged at his hair and he grunted at the pain and pleasure of the yank.

Kassam quickly shook his head. “[No, My Lady. I won’t do it again.]”

She caressed his cheek and gave his hair another yank, smirking when he fully let out a moan and rubbing the spot to relieve the ache. “[There we go... By the time we’re through, I’m going to be the best you’ve ever had and will ever have.]”

Maybe growing his hair out into showing his curls was a perk.

“[Yes, please...]” He let them shrug the jacket off his shoulders and toss it into the passenger seat, holding his arms up to help her take his shirt off and feeling the aircon brush against his skin to contrast the warmth of their hands and allowing himself to get lost in their touches.

A teasing hand reached down and unclasped the chain from his belt hoops. His eyes went wide as she smiled while moving his arms to cross his wrists together above his head, the cold metal slowly snaking against the junction to tie him up. Her earring jingled when he experimentally tried to pull them apart, his dick twitching when it proved futile.

Her right hand trailed down the length of his forearm before ghosting over his hair, his cheek, thumbing against his lower lip before her middle finger and ring finger tilted his chin up.

"[Pretty boys get pretty jewellery, don't they?]" She cooed, and he swallowed at the sight of her dress strap that slid off to rest against her arm, the satin giving just a little peek of her cleavage and the outline of her nipple piercings when she leaned her cheek sweetly against her right shoulder.

She was a goddess even without trying.

Kassam nodded, shivering when she squeezed his jaw and gently massaged it.

"[Your Lady loves it when you speak, baby. Why don't you try again?]" She raised an eyebrow.

He breathed out a "[Yes, My Lady]", grunting when her tongue found the shell of his ear and licked.

"[Good boy.]" Imane quickly flipped his sun visor down and slid open the mirror, tilting it in a way so he could fully see his upper chest and upward, all the way up to his eyes. “[Be a doll for me and watch how flustered you get when I tease you, hmm?]”

He nodded, following it with a quick "[Yes, Goddess]," slightly twisting his wrists so the sensation of friction was more present, and he watched as she trailed kisses down his neck and pressed their lips especially hard against his collarbone to leave a brown lipstick mark against his skin. His breath caught when she ran her thumbs innocently along his ribs, the very edges of their nails brushing against the sensitive area underneath his nipples. She leaned in to kiss the spots, and he felt her smile against his skin as she tested the waters with their tongue.

“[Fuck...]” The response was automatic, and he steeled himself but couldn’t help the huff that left his lips when she bit down, his back arching slightly. There was the usual flush to his cheeks, mauve and brown, that only came by when he was in the mood to lose control.

He was already in the process.

The fingernails digging down his back made him moan gutturally and tense his grip, feeling the ache of his muscles from Graham’s killer Marine workout adding more sensation than necessary.

“[Good boy. That’s it...]” She chuckled against his skin and angled herself so he could see just below their dress in the mirror, the edges of their dark purple lace panties peeking out.

He bit his lip and sighed as she kissed upward again, nibbling his ear. “[My Lady... Fuck, you’re so good at this.]”

They turned her head and winked at him, and he almost lost his mind. His hands were aching to touch her, worship her, feel her...

“[Can I touch you now, Miss...?]” He gave them puppy eyes, and she smiled while caressing his chin and jaw.

She whispered against his lips: “[No, tiger.]”

He shut up when they kissed him again, rocking his hips up to let her feel how much he wanted this and subtly giving them friction to grind against. He could feel her moving the straps of their dress down and opened his eyes to see their breasts, heart-shaped nipple rings he’d beg for to be in his mouth if he had to.

“[Open.]” Imane prodded his lips with a finger and laughed when he eagerly parted them. “[Cute boy. Show me how you worship with that mouth.]”

Kassam latched his lips onto the soft skin of her neck, nipping and licking and kissing at whatever they gave him access to. He whined when the pressure on his crotch disappeared, burying his mouth and nose into her chest to help him cope, and let out a gratified moan when his tongue connected with their left nipple as he closed his lips around it and sucked.

The purr that came from her was so worth it.

“[Sweet boy...]” She exhaled when his mouth found their underbreast and kissed his way to their other nipple, stroking his hair and breathing out praises every so often as he worshipped and savoured the taste of their skin. “[You’re so deliciously obedient.]”

“[Only for you, Goddess.]” He kissed the tops of her breasts and kissed his way down over the fabric that covered her stomach and hips. “[You’re not... taking this off fully, Miss?]” His teeth grazed the sensitive spot on her pelvis, and she giggled.

“[No, baby.]” She slinked off of him and into the backseats for the moment, and he craned his neck to watch them slip her lace panties off and drop them teasingly against his leather jacket, biting his lip when he caught sight of their folds and frowning when she crossed their legs.

“[I like my submissives to earn their keep.]” Their heel prodded his right bicep and pushed it downward so his elbow ran parallel to the floor, and she smiled when he grunted. “[And besides, I love when my submissives are so horny they beg to be used when we’re almost fully clothed.]” She trailed the shoe down his arm, stopping when her ankle was to the right of his mouth. "[How about you start here? Worship me.]"

His dick twitched again. Fuck.

The Algerian turned his head and kissed her ankle, his tongue trailing up to their calf and ending it with a gentle kiss. He glanced up at her, seeing the smile on their lips as they amusingly watched him. His cheeks burned as he kissed her ankle again and again and again, the shame of wanting to beg her for more burning with the gratefulness that she was allowing him to touch her body with his mouth causing his trousers to feel unbearably tight. He moaned against her skin and felt her hand curl into his hair.

"[Does the pretty boy want more of me to worship?]" She purred, prodding his elbow again with her stiletto. "[I think your devotion deserves a reward.]"

He swallowed as she leaned over, her breasts just out of reach of his lips, and unclasped the chain from his wrists. "[Am I allowed to touch you now, Goddess?]"

Imane smiled, her hands guiding the chain underneath his neck and loosely fastening the end with her earring on it just underneath his Adam's apple. "[No, Saint. Pretty boys earn their keep.]"

She'd made a collar and lead out of his belt.

Fuck, that was hot.

Gentle hands positioned his underneath the headrest, pulling his arms apart into a position like he was about to do Russian twists, before she wrapped the chain around her wrist and gave his neck a soft tug.

“[Be good for me and keep your hands to yourself, would you?]”

He whispered, “[Yes, My Lady.]” His Adam’s apple bobbed when she slid closer, slipping her right leg through the space his tucked arm made and then their left leg through the other.

She pulled the dress up with her other hand so the hem clung onto her hips and he moaned at the sight of their folds exposed and so close to his mouth, glistening in the low light of the car, and the sensual curve of her ass before his very eyes.

His jaw went slack as he watched her tease her labia apart and rub at them with a taunting finger, hearing them purr and moan with the stimulation. He almost lost it when she giggled and slipped another finger against the first, his mouth silently begging for permission to be the one pleasuring her, and bit his lip when he heard her fingers become slick with arousal and teasingly tap against her jewelled clit.

Tap... tap... tap.

He whined when she slid those two fingers into herself, pupils dilating at the sight of how her folds moved as she touched herself at an agonisingly slow pace.

Pretty.

"[Mmmh, I like pretty boys who are patient like you.]" She purred, laughing when he let out a frustrated grunt as their fingers withdrew, glistening. "[Stick out your tongue, Saint.]"

Kassam did as he was told, groaning when she slid her wet fingers once against it and tapped his chin to let him savour. She tasted like salted honey.

He swallowed. "[Goddess, can I have more please?]"

"[Of course you can, if you ask so nicely.]" Imane moaned as she resumed rubbing her folds, but shifted as she withdrew this time so he was in the position to lean up, her grip on the chain tightening. “[Pray, pretty boy.]”

He kissed the uppermost part of her thighs and lifted himself up, his tongue connecting with their wetness, and he groaned at the familiar but delicious taste of her arousal as he mouthed and kissed and licked and ate and savoured. She was licking the fingers that had played with herself, giggling and moaning against them before reaching down with that same hand to cover his throat like a necklace. The feeling of it alone increased his fervour and desire for praise, never mind the imagery of them riding his face, and a moan fully came as they choked him.

He preferred for face-riding to be done on a pillow where she was fully sitting on her knees, but that could be arranged another time.

“[What a needy one... So shameless.]” She laughed and rocked her hips, thighs tensing and making his hands scream to be granted allowance to hold and grab them. “[Who owns that mouth?]”

“[You, Goddess. Only you.]” His lips found her clit, and he suckled before lapping at the two opals snug against it.

Imane moaned and grabbed his hair, hips rolling against his mouth. “[Good boy... Oh, fuck...]”

He slightly shook his head and groaned so it could stimulate them even more, feeling his body heating up at the very need she was radiating.

He wanted to please her, praise her, worship her. Obey her.

His hands ached for the feeling of their soft skin against his fingers and palms.

Kassam whined when she raised herself out of his mouth’s reach, blue eyes fixated on her swollen labia. “[Miss...?]”

Her hands let go of the chain and reached over to unzip his trousers, fingers lightly trailing over his length. For a minute he forgot what it felt like to breathe, and he let out a shaky exhale.

“[You’re already so hard, sweet boy.]” She playfully flicked it, chuckling when his hips jerked. “[You really are a devout worshipper.]”

The Algerian swore and licked his lips, savouring the umami and sweet flavour left over against his mouth. “[Use me... Please, Miss... Fuck, you’re going to drive me insane... Please...]”

She slinked out of their position, propping their knee against his chest as they rolled the band of his trousers down. Her feet were bare, the heels having been left underneath his head, and he grunted when her wetness rested against his abdomen and she teasingly bucked. Her hand freed him from the constraints of his pants and rolled those down too, pumping and rubbing the tip to make his cock fully erect.

“[Hmm~ I’m a greedy lady... If I’m not filled up with your cum the first time, I’m going to keep taking until I’m full.]” Imane reached into the cup holder and ripped open the condom packet, easily rolling it onto his length and making him growl at the slight sensation of the ribs and dots.

Her back was so sensual to look at as they positioned herself and used their little finger to manually raise his seat to a higher angle but still not sitting anywhere close to upright, calves pressed against his sides.

She adjusted the mirror so they could have eye contact and he could see her facial expression.

“[Shit...]” He groaned when he felt her nudge their entrance against the head of his dick, hearing another sachet rip and watching her squeeze a pea-sized drop of lubricant on their middle fingertip.

They moaned when rubbing it into her folds, wiping the excess against his hip, and sank down onto his length.

He saw stars dazzling in his vision at the warmth and feeling of her around him for the first time, a primal howl ripped from his throat at the same time as hers. She fit so snug against him, and he hissed when they experimentally tightened and relaxed to adjust. Her hands rested on his thighs, and in the mirror he saw their lips part in pure bliss.

It felt so right.

His hips thrusted upward and she started to move.

“[Fuck, Goddess...]” He growled and covered his face with his hands, moaning every time her wetness met his skin and feeling more and more of his willpower slip from his fingertips as the sound of quiet gasps and moans filled the car. “[Please, please... let me touch you... Please... Oh, fuck...]”

Her hands crept along his body and unclasped the chain from his neck and let it fall to the floor with a metallic clatter, moving downward until they closed around his wrists, pulling his torso up and finally releasing the built up wanting by guiding his hands onto her stomach and pelvis, still covered by their dress.

He didn’t fucking care. His lips found her shoulder, kissing and biting their soft skin, moving with her as his hands roamed against the silk; he felt and cherished every dip and curve his fingers could find solace against.

She turned her head and beckoned his face up with a gentle hand, and kissed him.

For a moment, his surroundings melted away and it was just them moving as one, kissing, touching, basking in each other’s warmth and desire. He wanted her as much as they wanted him, and the fire in his belly grew for her.

He loved them; he loved her so fucking much...

His fingers found her clit and rubbed, and Imane moaned his name.

Kassam. Kassam...

She let her hands travel down to his neck, and she held him as they kissed; he nipped at their lower lip and relished in the grip on him tightening. Her thumbs pushed down underneath his Adam's apple, and his hips drove upward and quickened their pace.

Her body trembled and her thighs tensed, and with a few more thrusts she clamped around him and orgasmed, back arching as she came. He followed suit quickly after, simply from the unbearably tight warmth that made him almost see double.

Before he could relax and slump against the seat, her hips kept moving and bucking, making him let out a huff and a whine and his grip on their dress tighten. His face found the crook of her shoulder and neck and he came again, thighs quivering and legs going numb at the overstimulation.

Imane started to slow their rhythm, and once they were both at the tail end of the high she shifted onto her knees, ripping one final whimper from his throat at the absence of their warmth.  The condom was taken off, and he watched with darkened eyes her two fingers swipe against the tip of his cock for the remnants of cum; his lips parted when she licked them and turned around, tongue going numb when they pulled the fingers away and a strand of cum-mixed spit broke and glistened against her lower lip.

Fucking hell...

The used rubber was carefully tucked back into its ripped sachet, and he watched them rip open another one, pulling out a regular latex-free condom; blue eyes slow blinked, fluttering shut at the sensation of them rolling it over his cock and her hand subtly pumping against overstimulated skin.

She shifted, reaching to position herself, and sank down on his cock once more with ease; he grunted and held her in a tight embrace as she settled into him. She laid her forearms against his chest, hazel eyes gazing at him with adoration as he calmed his breathing down.

She smiled, cheeks rosy and glowing. “You were so good to me, handsome.” Her speech was slightly breathless, and he gave her nose a soft kiss.

“I need a few minutes before I’m even attempting to walk.” He gently rubbed her back, and they laughed together. “Cockwarming is a thing for you too?"

"I like to feel close to those I have sex with, tiger." She smiled against his shoulder. "I'd love for there to be a time I can without a condom on, but I'd rather not risk anything."

He hummed, lazily tilting his head to kiss her forehead. "I can get a vasectomy, no big deal."

"You're such a lady's man, handsome." She let out a coy half moan, half purr, gently biting down on the side of her finger. "Don't make me horny again... I don't think you can handle a third round tonight."

Their lips found each other, and they indulged in a softer but just as passionate kiss and embrace. She let her hair down, the curtains of dark brown cascading past their shoulders and tickling his chest as the metal hair claw got discarded into the cup holder. He instinctively buried his fingers into her hair and pulled them closer, smirking and playfully guiding her to subtly bounce up and down with his other hand on her bum; she gasped and laughed, a quiet moan escaping their lips, her right calf hitching onto his thigh automatically. The thought of her cum and milky arousal glistening against the rubber and dripping onto silk with every hip movement of her riding him and him pounding up into them on the bed, her own hand against their neck and biting down on her fingertip to keep from moaning too loudly and alerting the others, was enough to get him partially hard again.

He just had to cover the three cameras he knew were pointing at their daybed.

"Try me."

Chapter Text

The camera flash shuttered multiple times as the group of men sat on their bar stools laughing at the offhand jokes Bobby and Gary made; Kassam sat in the dead centre.

“Looking good, boys! Let’s take a look-see on which of these are our best options.” The photographer gave them a smile and motioned for the men to head over to the monitor.

Noah tapped him on the shoulder while the other boys dismounted their stools, rubbing at his eye. “Mate, how do you deal with these light spots? The floaties aren’t leaving me alone.”

“Look up and down, and pinch your nose bridge when you inhale.” He felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and pulled it out, seeing a text from “Imane 🖤🦦” on top of other notifications that didn’t sound off his phone because of Do Not Disturb.

[17:27] would you mind dropping by my flat to feed jourdain her dinner after your shoot? tests are running longer than i expected and she’s going to be very mad about not being fed on time

He smiled and texted back.

[17:29] Can I cook you dinner and sleep over with Altair then?

The speech bubble appeared immediately and soon was replaced by another text.

[17:30] that would be lush, thank you 🖤 i’ll let ivan know to expect you and he’ll hand over the guest keycard

Kassam reacted to the text with a thumb’s up and locked his phone again.

“[Still going strong with Imane?]” Noah murmured to him, eyeing the Polaroid snugly fitted between the iPhone and his silver bumpers.

He nodded and slipped the device back into his pocket. “[We’re very private people, but I reckon we’ll go the distance.]” Blue eyes met brown. “[Sorted out your feelings for them yet? I’m assuming that’s why you asked.]”

The librarian rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly flushing a shade of dusty mauve. “[It takes time, but I’m getting there.]” He pressed his lips together and exhaled. “[It got better once I was out the villa and took your advice on the two days we were able to talk.]”

“[Things happen for a reason.]” The DJ offered him a soft smile and a fist. “[Let me know when you’re emotionally ready for a wedding invitation. I’ll let Imane decide whether to send you one or not.]” He winked.

Noah whistled under his breath and fistbumped him. “Lady’s man, eh?” He grinned and slung an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. “I can’t blame you. Come on.”

The two of them sauntered over to the rest of the boys crowded around the monitor, where the photographer was flipping between the series of photos with a transparent handwriting overlay.

“The Heart-Stopping Men of Love Island 2019 ♡”. Imane was evidently the woman who wrote “Love”, with the way her L’s looped and connected to the following vowel. Lottie might have been the one who wrote “Island”, but the rest of the handwritings were unfamiliar.

Bobby nudged both him and Henrik and pointed at the seventh picture, at the the four season frontrunners laughing and smiling, Graham sat tucked in front of Kassam. The long-haired blond was gripping his stool with his legs propped against the footrest, and the baker was patting his chest.

Kassam’s nose was crinkled and he was half leaning over the stool almost looking like he was losing balance.

Noah, Gary, Graham and Lucas were also smiling; the shot looked as candid as could be, without the appearance of harsh or performative laughter.

“That’s the one, I reckon.” The Algerian felt a slight upward tug at his lips as he buttoned up his shirt again. Just as he was reaching for his water at the nearby table, a set assistant came up to the swarm of lads with an iPad and an Apple pencil.

“Before we wrap up, can we get a signature from all of you to superimpose over the front cover and each of you to write the word next to your name?” She handed Gary the iPad and stylus first with a wink.

When the tablet came to him, he signed with his professional autograph—a perfected script with very controlled imperfections with his M and N’s—and wrote out “Love” in calligraphy much better than his usual scrawl in notebooks. He passed off the iPad to Bobby and grabbed his insulated water bottle.

“When are we queueing Valo together, Sal?” The baker wiggled his eyebrows while the other took a sip of water. “Love Island Lads taking on first-person shooters: just you, me, Tim, Rohan and a fifth on a Friday night. Hell, streaming it all on Twitch would be well grand.”

“I’ll put us into a group message and we’ll sort something out.” Kassam popped the lid back into place. “I’m available next Wednesday if you’d like to duo queue.”

Bobby grinned and handed the iPad off, giving him the forearm bump and hand side sweep they made up in the villa. “You’re the man, mate. Wish you’d be on radio with me and Henrik tomorrow morn.”

The DJ chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You’ll live without me. I promised Tim and Rohan coffee and brunch.” He shrugged. “Radio just isn’t my thing.”

“Gotta keep the mystery about you?” The caterer returned the facial expression but with a slight upturn to his mouth. “Respectable.”

“What are the radio hosts going to ask me apart from what bits I did in the villa and the blow-up with Lucas?” His eyes traveled over to the physiotherapist who was sorting out his shirt a ways from them. “I’d rather answer questions on my own platform if that’s the case.”

On cue, the tall man turned his head to make eye contact with him. Kassam nodded curtly, and Lucas returned the gesture after a second’s pause.

Generous amiability was promised if he did apologise to Imane before the show was over.

Kassam turned back to see Graham and Noah heading in their direction and clapped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “I’ll catch you at another time. I promised Imane to cook her dinner.”

“Hubby material, aye?” The baker gave him a one-armed hug. “Drive safe, Naveen.”

“Sure thing, Aladdin. Say hi to Lottie for me.” He grabbed his rucksack from the coat stand and got stopped by the fisherman.

The ginger leaned over to whisper. “How’s post-op treating your lass? Elisa mentioned it to me last week but it didn’t feel right to ask when not everyone knows.”

“They’re up and running; I’m here to help in any way to make her life easier.” He smiled. “Still working on securing the yacht for the reunion?”

Graham grinned, brown eyes glittering. “I know people, Captain, worry not. We’re shooting for late May of next year.”

“Perfect, you can drop me off in Ibiza for the start of my summer set madness.” The DJ took another sip from his bottle. “I’ve to run, sailor, but we’ll talk another time.”

“I’ll hold you to that. The next time I see you in person, you better have a ring on your finger. My time in London’s up for now, I reckon.” The fisherman winked and waved him off.

He thanked the crew on his way out and headed down the street to his parked silver Lotus Evija, seeing groups of people eyeing the car while they walked.

He couldn’t blame them; he simply unlocked the driver side door and slipped in. The windows were heavily tinted to keep curious passerby eyes away from who possibly owned the vehicle.

Lucas’ black Maserati GranCabrio was parked in front of him. He easily pulled out of the spot and hit the road, the engine quietly purring under him.

The drive back to his penthouse in Belgravia was relatively quick through taking the back alley streets and avoiding main road traffic, and he pulled up in an available temporary parking spot that gave him half an hour.

The security guard smiled as he opened the door. “Welcome back, Mister Hassein. Have other plans for the evening?”

“It’s Kassam, Liam. I don’t do formalities.” He pulled out his cardholder from his trouser pocket. “I’ll be gone for the night but I’ll be back with guests over tomorrow morning for brunch.”

“I’ll put in a notice for Ryan when he takes over the post. Have a good one, Kassam.”

The Algerian tapped his cardholder against the ID scanner in the lift and hit the seventh floor button; the doors opened up after a few moments and he stepped out into the foyer to take off his trainers and set down his things. He whistled and snapped his fingers twice, immediately spotting the grey-blue Abyssinian pattering over the midnight blue marble toward him from the trained call.

“[Did you miss Baba?]” He scooped her up and planted a soft kiss between her ears, smiling when she meowed back at him and licked his nose. “[You’re getting a playdate with Jourdain and a car ride as a treat. Up.]”

Altair jumped onto his left shoulder and perched as he walked into the master bedroom to pick up his toiletries and two sets of clothes, setting them into a duffel bag.

“[You want your macaron squeaker for the night?]” His hand picked up the purple cat toy from the neatly sorted bed sheets and squeezed it, tossing it into the bag when she meowed affirmatively and chirped. “[Baba’s getting your food bowl, I promise. Do you think Mama has your favourite kibble and wet treat?]”

The Abyssinian purred and rubbed her face against his neck.

He put his Tobacco Vanille and Halfeti colognes into the bag’s side slot and carried it out into the kitchen to retrieve the ceramic bowl, washing it and patting it dry with a kitchen towel. “[Let’s go see Mama.]”

Altair hopped off his shoulder and led him back to the foyer as he tucked the bowl into his bag. He slipped his water bottle in before zipping it closed, opening the bottom drawer to retrieve a silver chained cat harness and lead. She trotted over and slotted her front paws into the harness openings, meowing when she got strapped in and jumping back on his shoulder. His left hand wound the lead thrice around his palm to give her enough room to hop down without hurting her, and grabbed his rucksack and duffel bag.

He took the lift down, scritching his cat’s chin to keep her calm from the movement, and returned to his car; he held the key up to the trunk and opened it with his forearm. Altair immediately jumped into the black cat bed she loved sitting on for car rides as he sorted out the bags in the back.

“[Stay. Stay.]” Kassam let go of the lead to open up the passenger door, giving her another kiss when she obeyed. “[Good kitty.]” He easily picked up the bed, transferring her onto the seat and securing the harness to the seatbelt. She chirped and put her front paws onto the interior panel when he closed the butterfly door.

He started the car up and made his drive over to Kensington, dialling Imane’s number while waiting at a red light. The tone beeped four times before she picked up.

“Hi, handsome. I just got out from the clinic but I need to pick up something before heading back. Are you on your way?”

Altair meowed enthusiastically at the sound of their voice, making him chuckle and give her ear scritches.

“I should be over in 5. Jourdain’s feeding time usually is 7:30, yes?” He patted the cat twice on the head before stepping on the gas.

The hint of a smile was in her voice. “[Did someone miss her Mama, baby?]” She cleared their throat. “Yes, I usually feed her when I’m cooking dinner.”

Kassam spotted the apartment building two streets down, turning on his blinker to merge onto the left-most lane for the next light. “Mm, I’ll do that. Are you craving anything in particular?”

“I was planning on making khoresh ghormeh sabzi and already took out the meat to defrost and have the beans soaked in the fridge. There’s sharab ward in the fridge too if you’d like some.”

“You’re the dream, love.” He sighed through pursed lips. “I’ll start the stew and rice so when you’re back, dinner’s at least in the middle of being made.”

Imane laughed. “Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you soon.”

“Drive safe; prepare for a bear hug once you get changed.” He smiled, turning at the light. “[My love is yours.]”

“[And the key to my heart’s in your hand.] Mwah.”

The call disconnected just as he pulled into the parking garage, rolling down his window as the intercom came on.

“Ah, the mighty DEADEYE car comes by again. Kassam, honourary plus 1 for Miss Karim, I presume?” The familiar voice of Ivan, the doorman, crackled.

“Yessir, is there a charging station I can use in the lot?”

“Your usual spot is available right now; I’ll let the gate open. You know the procedure when you’re all sorted.”

The intercom crackled into silence, and he rolled up his window, driving straight down and parking at the second to last e-car spot next to the empty one Imane’s usually took. He shut the engine off, whistling to Altair after unbuckling the seatbelt and petting her when she jumped onto his shoulder again.

He gathered his things from the trunk and walked through the back entrance of the lobby.

Ivan, the tall wide-shouldered Syrian standing behind the front desk suited up in black and royal purple, smiled as he approached. Green eyes met blue. “Looking spiffy, Kassam. Came back from a shoot?”

“Sure thing, I’m a busy man in the summer and early autumn.” The DJ clicked open a pen to sign the guest form and non-disclosure agreement. “I’m just looking forward to spending some time with my girl.”

The guard grinned, took the forms and handed him a keycard with a wine bag. “Imane called ahead to order S. Pelligrino for your sharab ward. You know where to go, sixth floor, door on the right.” He winked. “There’s something else in the bag you might need. Have a good evening, Kassam; James will be here in the morning when you return the key.”

“Cheers, Ivan. Have a good one.” Kassam made his way to the lift, humming and giving Altair gentle kisses as she stared out the small glass sliver in the wall that overlooked a magnolia tree, gold eyes unblinking, and clicked his tongue when they reached the sixth floor to get her attention. “[You seem to remember where we are.]”

She meowed and rubbed her face against his hair as he walked out of the lift, unlocking the third door to reveal the tidy sky loft dressed in dark woods and black marble.

When he bent down to put down his things and take off his shoes, Altair jumped off his shoulder and waited for him to undo her harness before scampering off toward the windows to watch the sunset.

He slipped into the first bedroom, spotting a statuesque smoke-furred cat perched on the purple climbing post staring at him with jade green eyes. “[Mama’s coming home late, baby. You’re stuck with me for awhile.]”

Jourdain meowed and slow blinked at him, turning away to close her eyes as if she knew he was about to change.

Kassam slipped out of his dress shirt and trousers, into comfortable joggers and a muscle tee; the cat jumped off her tower to follow him into the master bathroom, sitting herself on the toilet seat cover to watch as he washed his face and neck and letting her bushy striped tail wave behind her.

“[You’re so cute, sweetheart. Baba wants to give you so many kisses.]” He dried his hands on a square towel and picked her up like a baby, cradling her to his chest and planting kisses on her black and grey nose. She chirped and licked his cheek. “[Sweet girl… Baba missed you.]”

She let him carry her out, purring as he picked up the wine bag from the foyer and hopping off to run over to Altair for playtime.

He pulled out the sparkling water and spotted the small envelop on the side; there was a ring sizer, innocently waiting.

There was no way Imane ordered that.

His hands busied with pulling ingredients from the neatly sorted refrigerator, carefully balancing the vase of rose citrus syrup between his last two fingers, and lined them up on the countertop. The glasses were in the same cupboard as they were the last time he’d visited, sorted by shape and size, and he caught sight of the hexagonal glass mug he had given them as a parting gift when they left Heathrow Airport three days after the show was over. She had it stained a mosaic of purple and black, and handpainted a fig tree silhouette in silver and gold.

His gaze softened.

His phone rang with the familiar melody of his Paradise remix, and he swiped right to answer the call from his management. “Yes, Seira?”

“Hi, Kassam. I was ringing you to let you know Lucy’s mentioned you in her radio interview and said less than favourable things about your relationship with her.”

He grabbed one of the highball glasses and shoved his phone between his ear and shoulder to free both hands. “Sei, I don’t know what difference she’s trying to make.” A healthy teaspoon of syrup was poured into the cup. “We’re old news.”

“I really don’t know either, considering your outreach is quite literally Goliath now. Just wanted to keep you in the know with how things are in the press for you, if you want to avoid social media for awhile and all of that.”

“I can sort myself out just fine, but thank you for the concern.” Kassam poured a third’s cup of half cube ice from the freezer and popped open the sparkling water. “I’ve dealt with this once before when it still hit too close to home; there haven’t been any feelings for Lucy for a long time, positive or negative. She can talk about me as much as she wants. If people believe her, they clearly have no idea about my character.”

“But you don’t need that type of negativity, especially considering you’re at the beginning of a fresh, solid relationship. Just give me a ring if you need to cancel your gig last minute to clear your head, okay?”

He filled the glass and clicked his tongue. “That won’t be necessary; I just had a therapy session yesterday and Imane’s keeping me company tonight. Thanks for checking up on me though, Seira.”

“No worries, that’s my job description. Have a nice evening with Imane, I’ll leave you be!”

A quick goodbye later, he hung up and pocketed his phone, glancing at the clock hung up opposite the kitchen. There was still some time before needing to feed the cats.

The rice got washed and put into the slow cooker, and he got started on preparing the stew. He stirred the sharab ward with a metal straw, taking a cursory sip.

It was delicious, floral and sweet with a tart aftertaste from just enough lime and pomelo.

Jourdain hopped onto the high stool to watch, staring him down and meowing.

“[Are you staring at Baba so you get fed earlier?]” He smiled and gave her a kiss between the ears. “[Cutie. Give Baba a hug and help figure out Mama’s ring size.]”

She hopped onto his forearm and balanced herself against his chest, meowing when he covered the simmering pot and took up the sliver of paper to walk back into the bedroom.

Imane’s vanity was a small, tidy desk next to the window, fitted with a mirror and a small tray to put their watches and bracelets. He tugged at the mirror, feeling resistance.

Kassam glanced over the top and spotted the numerical passcode keys, pursing his lips. “[Mama’s got good security on her things, huh, baby?]”

Jourdain purred and slow blinked at him.

Was it her full birthday…? Day, month, year?

He tried the combination, not hearing the lock click open, and waited until the keys reset before trying the longitude and latitude of Beirut—her birthplace.

The mirror unlocked, and he pulled the door aside to spot the array of rings and necklaces hanging by brand and worn finger, her go-to perfumes lined across the bottom row. His eyes fell onto the Serpenti Viper ring that she wore on her right middle finger before; he took it from its spot, turning it around and saw the M engraved into the gold plating of the snake’s head.

So he didn’t need the ring sizer at all.

To be sure, he slipped the tape into the ring and measured the circumference; her middle finger was 52.5mm.

The Algerian returned the jewellery to its rightful spot and took out the Perlée couleurs band he’s seen them wear on their ring finger; it was 50mm.

He whistled and jotted down the numbers in his notes app, keeping the rest of the note blank to not arouse any suspicion to the numbers, and gave Jourdain another few kisses on the head to keep her happy. “[Let’s get you some dinner, sweetheart. I don’t want you to get all fussy on me.]”

She pawed at his neck, purring as he closed the mirror and grabbed Altair’s bowl from his bag, and let him put her onto the kitchen island.

The cat food was in the leftmost cupboard, closest to the lounge. Kassam couldn’t help but smile when he saw Imane’s neat handwriting in white permanent marker to indicate the left airtight container full of kibble was for Altair.

They were settling in just fine.

His cat padded over and sat by the two ceramic bowl stands by the counter, meowing loudly at him to alert him that she was hungry.

“[I hear you, kitty. Food’s coming soon.]”

He finished filling their bowls with half a centimetre of water from the filter system and put the bowls onto their holders. “[Sit, stay.]”

Jourdain and Altair shuffled onto the miniature sapphire sajjāda placed in front of the cats’ eating and drinking area; after he snapped his fingers twice, both of them started on their dinner.

What a cute sight.

Kassam washed his hands, turned on the mood lighting to a muted purple and continued on with prepping the sabzi, humming as the herbs got diced.

His phone rang again, this time with Tim’s profile picture on the FaceTime request. He used the knuckle of his little finger to accept it.

“Excited for brunch tomorrow, mate? Can’t wait to terrorise Altair for a hot minute.” The Latino grinned at him, situated comfortably in his shared flat with Jen.

He smiled and shook his head disapprovingly. “You’re asking for more cat scratches, Timoteo.”

“Oi, do not use my full name like that. Your mum literally almost named you Vincent; watch your mouth.” His face got closer, and he squinted. “That so doesn’t look like your place… You at Imane’s for the night?”

“Sure am. The drive to my pent isn’t that big of a time crunch, so 11am is very much feasible even if I sleep in.” The Algerian sautéd the herbs with olive oil, the quiet vent going in the background. “Imane’s place is proper nice.”

“God, I wish I made it to that evening cocktail hour at hers days ago but the jetlag was fucking killing me. We should have a Love Island winning couple double date one of these days to make up for it.” Tim sighed but chuckled after. “Do you know what you’re doing with your £25k yet?”

“Probably donate most of it, if I’m being honest. I don’t want the money being put toward an engagement ring to be from Love Island.” He covered the frying pan and reduced the heat, turning back toward his phone.

The Ecuadorian’s face was shocked but quite ecstatic. “Engagement ring, you say? Geez, you weren’t kidding when you said Arab relationships move fast.”

Kassam rolled his eyes, lips curled upward. “I’m not proposing yet, but engagement shit takes time especially since I need to plan around our schedules. This summer was almost a holiday for me, with the show cutting my gigs down, but I also don’t want to interrupt her studying for her license or steal the shine from the modelling jobs. I’m aiming for somewhere mid-April, right before the summer hits.”

“A forward-thinking lad… To think I knew a version of you who only lived in the moment’s so trippy.” Tim grinned. “Thought of any brands you want to look at?”

“Bulgari, since Imane’s walking for them next month for Fashion Week, or Piaget.” He cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not a usual thing for engagement rings to go on the right hand out here, so I’m keeping things as easy-to-wear on the daily because I’ll be wearing one too.”

”The bachelor lifestyle really is ending for you, Sammi. Can’t wait to see you be the friend in our DJ circle who’s got a ring on his finger.” The younger of the two’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’m about to chat up Ro on what to bring tomorrow; anything you want from the bakery down my way?”

“Three tres leche slices and an assortment of morocho should be on the table for sure. It’s just us three tomorrow, right?”

Tim saluted, parts of his fringe falling against his brow. “Yezzir, Rohan’s not bringing Blake as a plus one and Jen’s got a shoot. It’s a morning for the lads and lads only, like old times.”

“Rohan and Blake are a thing?” Kassam’s lower lip jutted out, impressed. “From Arjun and Elijah, Carl and Siobhan to Rohan and Blake, this season of Love Island’s the real deal.”

“Yezzir, they were talking ever since she didn’t get picked. I think they were pretty much exclusive ever since that Love Island Culture Pride shoot a few weeks ago. It’s early days but I reckon both of them really like each other.”

The Algerian let out a smile, checking on the stew. “Ro’s bad luck streak with romance might be ending. That shoot was the best thing I've arranged this year, honestly.”

"You sure it's not the drag-racing music video for 'Take Me Home'? That shit went so hard for no reason." Tim grinned. "No seriously though, the culture pride video was such a boss move. We're all on, like, one million likes so far on YouTube?"

"Harper's Bazaar loves me now, clearly." He chortled and poured the bowl of water into the pot. “Before I forget, I just talked to Bobby about queueing Valorant with you and Ro some time in the near future. Would you know a fifth that can play with us?”

“Apart from Aleki or David? I’m in a friend circle with this lad named Seb. Katsaros is his last name, I’m 98 percent sure. We’ve queued before and he’s a very, very good aggro Sage. You want me to start a group chat with all five of us and we’ll set something up?”

“It would be great.” Kassam covered the pot again, relocating his phone onto the counter next to the stove, before sorting out the herbs. “Do I know Seb?”

Tim cackled. “No, but he certainly knows you. He was watching Love Island while streaming and literally lost his marbles every single time a moment between you and Imane got aired cos the pull between you two was fucking well-seasoned. Also went absolutely loony when you made the offhand comment you collected records, since he runs a music shop. He’s a good one, swear it on my life.”

“He’s the viral video of an alternative guy screaming ‘When will it be my turn’ into a pillow while his cat stared in the back?” He laughed when the other gave him an affirmative finger gun. “Then I do know of him.”

“Brill, then this 5-stack should be just fine. I’ll start the group up after talking to Ro tonight. See you bright and early tomorrow, champ?” The Ecuadorian grinned.

“Sure thing. I’ll let you take home some of my infamous cold brew if you don’t badger Altair.” He turned off the heat and put the pan on one of the cold burners.

“Ugh, you strike a hard deal, Sammi… I’ll think about it. Cheers, mate!”

The FaceTime ended just as he heard the door unlocking, his head turning to see Imane walking in with a small gift bag on top of her errand purse.

She smiled at him, taking off her trainers and holding up one finger as they disappeared into the bedroom. He continued monitoring the stew, using a pair of silver chopsticks to constantly stir, and after a few moments she re-emerged in her black Medusa bodysuit and grey joggers, hair up in a hair claw.

“I missed you, handsome.” She stole a sip from his glass, waiting for him to free both of his hands, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Kassam buried his nose into her neck, smelling the subtle sharpness of clinical sanitiser mixed in with their normal fragrance. “It’s nice to come home to you, love.” He bumped foreheads with her, hands hooking on the underside of her thighs and lifting them up into a tight embrace. “How was your day?”

He easily turned and backed up against the kitchen island, teasingly letting his fingers squeeze and massage at her thighs.

Imane giggled, closing the distance between their lips and kissing him hello. Hazel eyes rimmed with kohl twinkled at him as she ran a thumb along his jaw. “Very busy. Dr. Alex dropped by to do a car interview with me before I needed to head to the clinic, but all the tests came out well. The nurses are very hopeful that I’ll fully recover within the next week and a half.”

The rice cooker beeped when he laid a few kisses on her throat, basking in the small intimate moment before he put her back down. His arms wrapped around their torso, hands gently ghosting against the scars on her lower stomach, and he rested a cheek against the side of her head. “Good, I’m here for you if you need anything from me.” His lips brushed against their ear. “Take it easy, love.”

She took the chopsticks and stirred the stew, sighing at the aromatic umami flavour wafting up toward both of them. “I am, I promise.” Her hips pressed gently against him, making their bodies melt together. “You’re a sweetheart, Sammi. How was the shoot with the boys?”

“Slightly awkward when Lucas and I arrived at the same time, but once more lads came it went off without a hitch. Graham got his first decent tattoo of a kraken and a lighthouse since the last time I saw him.” The Algerian chuckled, thumb stroking along her skin. “The photos turned out well.”

“It’s because you’re all very photogenic men. No doubt there would be at least three shots that are Vogue front-cover worthy.” Imane turned off the heat, sticking the chopsticks in her mouth to taste test and letting out a noise of contentment. “This is very well-seasoned; I’m impressed.”

“Hungry?” Kassam stole the utensils from her and put them in the sink, kissing her forehead and smiling when she nodded. “Would you like sharab ward with your dinner?”

“Yes, please.” She reached into the cupboard and pulled out the signature black and gold orbital bowls. “Would you be a dear and make one for me while I sort out our plates?”

“As my queen wishes.” He made another glass, feeling Jourdain curl against his ankle, and gently picked her up by the midriff. The cat meowed and settled into his arm, hanging limply like a ragdoll as he picked up his own drink to take over to the moderately sized dining table meant for two. “What are your plans for the evening, love?”

The brunette hummed under their breath, fluffing up the rice. “I was planning on streaming and doing an e-girl transformation for charity, since Lottie tagged me in her Instagram Live, but also answer some questions people might have.” She turned her head. “Would you like me to make you into an e-boy to pass more time?”

Kassam held up his hands to show the black nails he’d gotten for the photoshoot, shrugging. “I’m already halfway there, might as well go all the way. Your Twitch community is respectful enough.”

“I can title my stream ‘charity Q and A while I do e-girl and e-boy makeup, featuring my beloved’ so I don’t namedrop you.” She glanced at his fingernails, a subtle upturn on her lips. “You should keep those.”

“These nails might reappear for your birthdays or our anniversaries.” The two gold rings against the curve of his left ear felt warmer when he said the last two words. “I’d like to keep it a special gesture.”

“You have a soft touch about you, Sammi.” They smiled against her shoulder and turned back around, their silhouette inviting and gentle, still humming.

The new coloured sprig of hawthorn, his birth flower, inked right above their left elbow greeted him. She had gotten it a week after leaving the villa.

He glanced down at his right forearm, turning it so he could see the peony floral band he got the day after her even without coordinating the appointments. Traditional black, perfectly balancing out the harsh bands on his left, stopping two and a half inches from both his elbow and wrist.

So different, yet so similar. He wore death on his left and love on his right.

He thought his father and Rayan would approve of her.

“[What a sweet girl.]” Imane bumped foreheads with Altair, who was sitting on the countertop watching her prepare their dinner. “[Baba raised you so well; you’re such a curious one.]”

The Algerian couldn’t hide the smile, settling himself down on the high-legged stool and propping his cheek up on a hand. His pet usually wasn’t very affectionate around people that weren’t him.

The Lebanese brought both bowls over, Altair trailing behind her, and she put down the more filled bowl in front of him; hazel eyes gazed into his, a dark brow raising. “Why are you looking at me like that, handsome?”

“No particular reason.” He reached over and pulled two gold spoons from the small utensil holder on the kitchen island, holding one out to her. “You’re very pretty, you know. Sometimes I can’t stop myself.”

Their cheeks flushed peach, and she sipped on their sharab ward. “Flatterer. To call me pretty when my hair’s up, my lower stomach’s still swollen from post-op and my outfit’s more than casual…”

“You know I love your tummy, Nova.” Kassam took a bite of his food, swallowing before speaking again. “It’s just another divinely feminine part of you for the time being, and I’m always going to be your devout Saint. It makes me feel strangely protective over you.”

She smiled, eyes twinkling as she ate. “Cheeky.” Her foot prodded his shin in a quiet act of thanks.

The two of them finished their meal, chatting about their week in specifics, before Imane got up and took a ginger mint from the table after he did.

“I have something for you actually,” she whispered while stacking her bowl over his. The dirty dishes got put in the sink and prepped for washing, and she turned off the tap. “It’s why I came back so late.”

An eyebrow raised, his arms stretching over his head. “You spoil me, love. Is it a late birthday gift?”

“Extremely late, if this was meant for your birthday. It’s just a small something.” They walked back to where her purse was, taking the small gift bag and walking back over with it.

When she set it down and turned it around, he saw the Bvlgari gold lettering and rapidly blinked; his jaw went slack.

“I thought that it would be right for both of us to give each other couple’s accessories, since you did give me this.” Her left wrist glimmered with their wind rose bracelet as she took out a small ring box. “It took so long for me to find your size, but I reckon it’s worth it. I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Honey, you didn’t need to. You’re the first one who’s ever done this for me.” Blue eyes met hazel, and he for certain knew that his ears were flushing with warmth.

Imane smiled, pushing the grey beige box across the table. “I wanted to, I promise. Open it.” Her hands rested against their chin, the dainty B.zero1 ring on her left little finger giving a hint to what was in the box.

Kassam undid the orange ribbon, carefully sliding the jewellery box out and flipping the lid up to reveal the complementary gold and black ceramic band. It was a similar version but not identical to hers, this one having the ceramic embedded with the gold framing as well as in the centre.

When he tilted the box, something in the inner band caught his eye.

“K.N.H.” was lasered into the black.

“How did you find out what my middle name was, love?” He took the ring out, letting her take it from his grasp to put it on his little finger. It fit perfectly.

The Lebanese smiled, leaning over to plant a small kiss against his knuckle. “I have my close sources.” She purred when his hand reached out to thumb over her cheek. “Nathan suits you when you’re not ‘on’, but to me you’ll always be Kassam.”

He got up and embraced her, kissing the top of her forehead and squeezing them tightly. “You are an absolute dream, Nova. Thank you so much.”

She kissed him gently, leaning against his frame and holding the back of his neck. “You deserve the dream, handsome.”

They bumped noses and captured each other’s lips again; it felt so right to be with her, near her.

When he was away, it didn’t feel like he missed them, but the feeling of belonging was undeniable when they shared the same space. There were trinkets and memorabilia of her at his place in the spots he didn’t even need to think to look, and if he really wanted to hear her they were just a FaceTime, a call or audio message away.

It wasn’t stifling at all to be around them.

He wondered if his songs would turn more homely when they were married and moved in together.

Imane pulled away slightly, hazel eyes opening and sparkling when he kissed her cheek. “Sammi, you’re looking at me like that again.”

The Algerian blinked, shaking his head clear. “Sorry, love. It’s the domestic in me.” His hand slipped into their jogger’s pocket.

“You’re sweet, Saint.” Her hands smoothed the freshly cut hair above his ears before they snaked around his bicep. “Let’s sort out the washing and get the stream set up.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I can do the washing and stream set-up if everything is on preset. Have a bath to relax; you had a long day.”

She stared at him, rosiness seeping into her cheeks. Long dark lashes fluttered.

“Why are you looking at me like that, otter?” Kassam smiled and kissed her nose, hand rubbing her shoulder.

It took her a moment to respond, and he watched her lips curl.

“You’re quite something, tiger.” They smiled, kissed him and let him guide her to the bedroom. “You win this time.”

Kassam sent her off with a few pecks to their hair, shutting the door behind her before heading back over to the kitchen where the cats were. He patted Altair behind the neck to push her just slightly away from the sink, feeling his phone vibrate again multiple times.

He took it out and saw a new group chat named “Most Cracked 5-Stack”, with one number he didn’t have already saved in his contacts.

Definitely that was Seb.

He typed out a quick message to Tim’s inquiry of everyone’s schedule for the last weeks of September, slipping the device back into his pocket.

Jourdain and Altair watched him wash the dishes, both of them making short trills whenever he put another pot or plate into the drying rack. The smoke-furred cat nudged his elbow when he was drying his hands on the kitchen towel, asking for pets to which he obliged.

Jade green eyes slow blinked at him, like she was thanking him for giving her owner a break.

“[Off the counter, ladies. Baba needs to clean.]”

Altair hopped onto his shoulder and started grooming herself as he set Jourdain down on the clean dining table to watch him scrub the kitchen island, head moving back and forth to track the new shiny ring on his finger.

It felt so right for it to be there, snug against his skin. Had Imane measured his rings the last time she slept over at his?

Kassam rinsed the sponge clean and set it back down in the small holder by the window, coarse-side up just how both of them preferred. “[Would you like to watch Mama and Baba’s stream?]”

He picked up Jourdain in his arms, chuckling when she hopped onto his available shoulder. “[Let’s help them set up.]”

The second bedroom was converted into a work room, still organised with textbooks, reading books on the right and a very put-together streaming layout on the left.

There were three square scarves framed on the wall facing the computer desk, and he caught sight of the Le Premier Chant in the middle; she had hung up his favourite scarf from Hermès in between her siblings’ favourites.

His eyes traveled to her prism PC, with small figurines of organic chemistry structures with hearts as carbon rings, memory vials and miniatures of Sanrio characters propped up against the motherboard. His favourite two, Pochacco and Landry, were sitting with hers, Kuromi and Purin, having afternoon tea.

It was really cute.

There was a replica of a Valorant spike, made to be a glowing cage to hold replicas of in-game daggers. One knife set in particular, black and green and gold, was a prototype.

He smiled. He also had a spike replica at his place, with his own knife prototype.

Altair and Jourdain hopped down onto the gaming chair, finding their usual after-meal spot on the black climbing tower slightly away from the desk. His knuckle tapped the PC start button, hearing the quiet whir of the fans and seeing the blue, pink and purple lights spiral through the glass case.

He leaned over to type in the password to their desktop, the satisfying clicking of the mechanical keyboard soothing whatever nerves he possibly could have had.

Spotify automatically opened once he was logged in, and he spotted the various playlists they saved. “for when i miss you ♛” caught his eye; he clicked into it, the moth in his stomach fluttering when he saw the playlist cover as a candid picture of him reading on her couch.

The latest song he released with Paisley Cuddle, “sun and moon”, was the first track.

He chewed his lower lip to keep himself from smiling too widely.

She was already logged into Twitch, so it didn’t take him long to set up the stream and type out a cursory description; their branding was to a tee, roses and constellations on the starting screen.

His eyes glanced over at the mic stand, catching sight of the M-100 headphones he’d bought her after coming off the show, as an upgrade for her audio quality and as a small homage to their relationship. The dark purple plates suited the rest of her stream aesthetic well.

He continued checking specs and heard Imane come into the room; his head turned to see them hugging two hydroflasks to her chest and holding a tray of makeup products. Their cheeks were flushed with post-bathing glow.

“You left your foundation here the last time you slept over.” She tapped the cap of his Tient Idole bottle, still two-thirds full.

He smiled, taking his water bottle from her. “I was wondering where that went. I’ll take it home tomorrow.”

She kissed him, cradling her black metal bottle, and he breathed in the fresh scent of honey, brown sugar and green tea. “Thank you for helping me set up, handsome.”

“You deserved a small indulgent break.” Kassam watched her finish the last touches and start the stream, still on the starting soon screen. “What charity are you planning on sponsoring?”

“Al Jalila Foundation, since they’re ten-thousand away from their milestone goal.” They pulled up Tiltify and quickly integrated it into their Twitch. “I wanted to match the donations on my own to double whatever comes in.”

Kassam kissed the top of her head, feeling her relax underneath his touch. “Can I also match, in that case?”

Imane looked up, blinking at him. She smiled. “That’s really generous of you, Sammi.”

“I like to support good causes with good people.” He stole another kiss from her lips and settled his cheek against the fabric of her hoodie.

His favourite hoodie, actually. He kept “forgetting” it around her.

“You’re really something else, you know.” Their lips curled as she leaned down to turn on the cat camera and make sure both cameras in the set-up were in focus on the second monitor; she kept the microphone muted but switched over to the cats for the few hundreds already piling into the waiting screen. “Would you mind me sitting on your lap for the stream?”

“There’s not many better positions to put me in, love.” He slid onto the chair and wrapped his arms around her waist when she settled down. “I love being underneath you.”

The Lebanese suppressed a smile as she took out their HiFi monitor earphones and plugged them into the desktop, offering the left one to him—just like how he preferred. “Watch your mouth before it gets you in trouble, mister.”

Kassam gave her a kiss on the nose, smirking when she tapped his and burying his face into her hair for the time being. He hid as best as he could when they were recording a video for Instagram stories about her stream, even though clearly there was a second person wearing her earphone.

There wasn’t any point in hiding during the beginning of her going live, as his forearms were exposed, but hearing them introduce him as her sweetheart made his ears warm.

“You’re going to make people think I’m soft.” He poked his head out from behind, frowning but subtly smiling.

Imane patted his cheek, leaning over and giving him a kiss on his nose. “I’m the only one who gets to call you sweetheart, tiger.”

“Alright, alright.” He stole a kiss from them, grinning when she called him a scoundrel under her breath. “How would you like the makeover to be structured?”

“I can do one step on you, then the same step on me, so we have ample waiting time between each.” She smiled and turned toward the camera located on top of their main monitor. “I think we can squeeze in three questions when I’m doing your prep and base, hmm?”

“Seems feasible.” He watched as they poured a small pebble size of toner onto their palm, closing his eyes when he felt their hands pat it into his skin. “Use the Donate extension next to the Subscribe button, and for every £10 donation you’ll get a 1-month Twitch Tier-2 subscription benefit. The mods are checking for questions in chat from donors, so remember to integrate Tiltify onto your Twitch extensions. Smaller donations that are at least £4 do get a small banner on the stream, so don’t feel like you need to fork out money for the sake of a shoutout. This is all for charity.”

Imane raised an eyebrow. “You pay attention, handsome.”

“Of course I do.” He chuckled, slipping out his phone. When they were explaining more of the tiers, he went onto Instagram and made sure he was on his main account before taking a discrete video zooming in on the main monitor and linking her Twitch in a swipe-up. He published it onto his public story.

Soon enough, they both heard the alert that someone’s donated £50 when Imane was pumping out serum onto the back of her hand.

“Thank you so much for the donation,” she read out the username and saw the highlighted message one of the mods sent into the mods-only chat. “They asked ‘Kassam, did you go into the villa knowing that Imane was Miss Lebanon 2015?’”

“No, I didn’t know.” His forearms wound around her waist. “Imane’s never mentioned it in the villa but it made sense in hindsight. It only registered when I came to your place and saw the sash stowed away in your closet. I think it’s quite impressive to be in uni studying psychology and physics while walking pageants.”

She smiled and busied herself with preparing one and a half pumps of foundation on the back of their hand and mixing an equal part of serum in, just how he liked. “It was a lot of flying between England, Dubai and Lebanon but the time difference wasn’t terrible. The makeup artists always had to work around my paper revising.” They swiped a foundation brush against his cheek to test the sheerness, using a gentle finger to tap out the harsh edges. “Kassam also did lots of traveling while in university, so it’s not just a me thing.”

“The only big gig I did that almost made me miss my commencement ceremony was to Toronto.” He chuckled, keeping as still as possible. “I changed into a suit in a cramped plane bathroom and Tim and our mutual friend picked me up from the airport an hour before the ceremony.”

“And you say your life isn’t all that interesting.” Hazel eyes twinkled, a hand gently sweeping his hair up to get even coverage everywhere. “Then again, I also say my life isn’t all that either.”

She turned her head around and stopped for a moment. Their gaze was on the amount of viewers, which had doubled into the 7 thousands, and the donations were slowly but surely pouring in.

“Did you… do something?” Imane looked at him, and he gave them a poker face and a shrug. She used the back end of the brush to poke him in the cheek in mock disappointment before moving on to concealer.

”If we don’t answer all of the questions, we can compile them and answer them on our Instagram stories another day?” His left eye opened to gauge her reaction, his lips curling when she nodded and hummed, before returning to the monitor on the left. He thanked the donor for their £65 contribution. “‘Do you have any plans on moving in together?’”

“Not before marriage, no.” She tapped along the small dots of concealer underneath the inner corner and outer third of his eyes with a finger. “For my case, I’ve learned the hard lesson that people in the past wanted a wife without the commitment. We live close enough that it’s not an issue seeing each other at least once a week, and even when we’re doing long distance we still call once every three days at the least.”

Kassam chuckled, leaning back into the chair. “As tempting as it is to be in a domestic situation together, I think it doesn’t make much sense for us to have that life stage just yet. We’ve both been burned in the past when it comes to living circumstances, but I must say all of the icks I’ve had with my exes I haven’t had with Imane.”

“We so happen to organise things in similar ways. Once this guy puts a ring on my finger, we’ll start house hunting. Both of us already have wedding inspirations in the works.” She grabbed a contour brush and thanked the next large donor. “‘Are there any fun facts about your time on Love Island? Were there any last minute changes that could have changed your time in the villa?’” They easily dotted the hollows of his cheeks with contour. “I was actually meant to be a Bombshell and not an OG. The producers at the point in time said they were planning on sending in Bombshells on Day 10, but the Ministry of Sound weekend was happening too soon after so they moved me into the original lineup after a girl caught a stomach bug and couldn’t make it. I was already in Mallorca for my cousin’s bachelorette party, so it was perfect timing anyway.”

“I was meant to come in with Henrik on Day 6, but since production moved everything up a week, the first week of filming was right in the middle of my gigs. Reality telly’s not about to mess with my bag so I got thrown into Casa Amor.” He pursed his lips. “Honestly, I probably would have gone home during Roccogate if you weren’t already in the villa. There wouldn’t have been any girls I was interested in.”

She patted his cheek and spritzed setting spray on him, covering his eyes. “What really messed me up in the first few days was, and I definitely can say this because I refused to sign an NDA with the producers, them continually asking me what my type was and then refusing to give me any viable options. The closest person to my type was Noah, and we all know how that worked out.” They used a fan to dry him down, gaze unwavering while picking up a spoolie brush. “They expected me to be a damsel in distress trope and was upset that I only cried once after Rocco was exposed for being a wasteman.” Hazel eyes softened. “There were many nights where I laid awake wondering when it would be my turn to be ‘the one’ and not just second choice for curious lads who have never dated someone like me before.”

Kassam kissed her forehead, the corner of his mouth downturned in a small grimace. “It must have been a gruelling three weeks for you before Casa Amor.”

“Henrik, Priya and Lottie helped me through it all and in the end, I did get to meet you again.” They sorted out his brows, tenderly pecking the scar on his right brow and thumbing over it. “Good things happen to people who wait, after all.”

“They sure do.” He handed them back the spoolie, carefully tucking his chin against her shoulder to not disturb the makeup. His eyes fell back to the monitor to find another question. “’What are your big six placements in astrology?’ If I go through planets then rising and remember Imane’s correctly, it goes,” he used his left hand’s fingers to count, “Scorpio sun, Virgo moon, Scorpio Mercury, Capricorn Venus and Mars, and Sagittarius rising.”

In the mirror, she smiled at him while patting foundation in with a puff. “Brownie points for your good memory. Kassam’s a Taurus sun, Aquarius moon, Gemini Mercury, Cancer Venus, Scorpio Mars and rising.”

“Your mum said I was the most astrologically compatible and healed man you’ve ever been with. Quite the compliment, if I do say so myself.” A chuckle came from his lips, blue eyes finding solace looking at her side profile.

Was this what his father felt like when he looked at his mother for the first time?

Imane tucked concealer underneath the inner corner of their eyes, working quickly to blend it out. “Ommi is a tough one to crack, but she really is warming up to you at her own pace. Your mum’s been nothing short of wonderful either.”

He definitely was going to ask her mum for permission before proposing.

“’What new tattoos and piercings did you get after Love Island?’” They dusted contour against their cheekbones. “I got a sprig of hawthorn on my arm and these pretty things.” She pulled back her hair to show off the new orbital conch and daith hoops on her left ear. “I’m quite happy with the way everything looks right now, so there aren’t any current plans to do any more.”

Kassam held up his right forearm to show the floral band. “I have this cute little number that wraps around my arm, and new ink here too.” He pulled down the collar of his shirt and to the side to show the سيدي tattoo underneath his collarbone, written in Imane’s neat handwriting. “This reads Sayyidi, which is Maghrebi Arabic for ‘saint’. Algerians speak a derivative of Maghrebi Arabic, so it’s a well meaningful tattoo to me at least.” He pointed at his ear with the gold cuff helix rings. “This is probably the most noticeable difference. I have a big thing for super-asymmetry when it comes to ink and body jewellery on myself and I’ve wanted these done for the longest time.”

“If anyone doesn’t know what super-asymmetry is, or at least our definition of it, it’s essentially an asymmetrical modification that doesn’t repeat on the other side of the body, but the piece itself is symmetrical.” She smiled. “I prefer simple asymmetry on myself, but I love symmetry in my clothing.”

“A woman after my own heart.” His lips ghosted against their neck, and he gave her a series of soft kisses. “You look beautiful, love.”

Imane snuggled into him, a shy blush forming against their nose. “You’re sweet.” She got to work priming his eyelids with a gentle touch. “’What are your favourite luxury brands? You two had such great fashion sense in the villa, it’s hard not to pry with who you wear most often.’ Aw, thank you for the compliment.”

“I’m one of the Emirates’ brand ambassadors for Prada, Dior and Gucci so I can’t not say they’re my favourites.” Kassam watched as they opened a warm-toned eyeshadow palette. “Not too fussed about Hermès’ bags, but I do own many a square scarf and shoe from the brand. That one,” he pointed at the middle scarf hung up behind them, “was the scarf I used as a pocket square for the villa’s prom night. I wore Nemer Saade to the red carpet event for the music awards, with this lovely lady," he nudged his head toward Imane, "as my date. The midnight blue suit I wore for the prom and bedazzled suit I wore for the finale were custom-made by Elie Saab for my 25th birthday. The bedazzled was the one suit that I opened with the Spring/Summer 2018 runway for and sent the internet into a tizzy over, so I needed to pay homage to him. He’s absolutely amazing to work with.”

Enough people didn't expect his model walk to be actually up to par, or that he wasn't DJing, that it took the socials by storm.

The eyeshadow brush slightly tickled his skin as Imane worked in taupe and soft brown into his crease. “Essentially all of my accessories in the villa were either Bulgari, specifically their Serpenti line because the snake emblem really calls to me in general, Ralph and Russo or Valentino. I also wore two pairs of Hermès heels, and the coffee Kelly 30 that was my personal item at the airport is a legacy item passed down from my Teta. The iconic ‘Imane Shoes’ that trended were from Ralph and Russo, and the dress I wore for the first 'official' date I had with Kassam and the long black dress from the red carpet event were both from Jacquemus. The last two days of filming I was dressed in Saiid Kobeisy or Zuhair Murad." She laughed. "Zuhair actually was the designer who fitted me for Miss Lebanon, so I’m honoured that he requested me to walk for him during next year’s Paris Spring/Summer Fashion Week.”

The Algerian chuckled, opening the eye they finished working on for the time being. “I’m going to be front row to watch you bewitch the crowd with your extremely good smize. Walking with Gigi, Bella and your sister is such a huge deal.”

“Is my good smize why you fell for me in the first place?” An eyebrow raised teasingly before a smile broke out on her face.

He returned the grin and shrugged. “It never hurt to have a lady who can make me feel like the only man in the world with just her eyes, does it?”

She flicked him on the nose with a finger, closing the palette in favour of a single multichrome eyeshadow. “You’re such a rascal, Morpheus. Keep it to your song lyrics and not on stream.” The look in their eyes was teasing though, like she was enjoying his attention. His lips found purchase against her forehead and she giggled, pushing him back against the chair.

While she was dabbling the shadow against the back of her hand, he found another question. “’Imane, did you know Noah had feelings for you in the villa?’”

The Lebanese didn’t pause, gently working a sheer layer of eyeshadow onto his eyelids. “Yes. I knew he had feelings.” There was a moment of silence. “But just like Rocco, who was indecisive on who he really wanted so he pied me off, I lose respect for men who can’t choose me as a priority when I need them to. I might have chosen him on the first day, but by the first recoupling he lost me. I’m not about to let a man treat me like a dirty secret while singing praises about another woman in public, then to add salt to the wound seeing how easily his head got turned by a third woman because she vaguely resembled an ex.”

He opened his eyes to gaze evenly at them. “I doubt he’ll ever live down the cut of him staring after you when you rejected him to go hug Hope when both of them were getting dumped.”

“Hope and I didn’t need to get on all the time for me to know she deserved better than I was handed with my ex Lucas. She deserved more than performative adoration.” Her hazel eyes were unwavering, and he felt comfortable enough to shut his eyes again. “She apologised to me during the afterparty; that’s enough in my books to move on from whatever happened inside the villa.”

“A contrived environment like the villa’s enough to play with your insecurities. Hope’s so happened to be relationships and control.” He shook his head subtly. “Things happen for a reason.”

She hummed in agreement, smudging out his eyeliner with a smudger brush. “’Kassam, we didn’t see much of you being musically active on Love Island apart from your piano duet, the last-minute gig, and occasionally playing on glasses. Are you learning any new instruments?’”

“I picked up electric guitar, which was simple enough because I still had the muscle memory from university. I also am decent at every type of percussion, but I only use them for composing.” He frowned slightly. “As much as I love my job, it’s unhealthy to assume the only thing I’m doing in my spare time is just that. Burnout is extremely prevalent within musicians if they don’t sort themselves out other hobbies or duties. Any career that requires a lot of emotionality, whether that’s performing empathy or any form of emotional manipulation to make others feel the way you feel, needs high intuition of who you are as a person or it’s very easy to lose yourself.”

“It would be like expecting me to always talk about observational astrophysics, cognitive psychology and applied partial differentials.” Imane tapped between his brows to loosen the subtle furrow. “As much as I love him and his passion for music, it would get old very quickly if the only thing he liked to do in front of me was just that.”

Kassam chuckled and smiled to himself. “Precisely. We prefer to keep our working hours bound to certain times of the day to create a healthy work-life relationship. It’s okay to have some days for crunch time, but I don’t let it happen more than once a month. I don’t want my girl worrying about me overworking myself.”

They gently patted his cheek to let him know they were done with his eye makeup, and she handed him a compact mirror. His blue eyes stared back at him, multichrome sparsely spread around his eyes with smudged black liner and two small gems per eye in his inner corner and outer corner.

“I look hot.” The Algerian closed the compact and slipped it onto the table, opting to slide his hands into her jogger pockets and play a rhythm against their thighs. His gaze fell onto the donation bar, smiling to see the £2500 automatically replaced with the £5000 bar. “Thank you for all the donations; it means a lot.” His eyes scrolled over to the mods-only chat for another question. “‘Who are you still close with from this season’s villa?’ I took Henrik bouldering the first time he came down to London a few weeks ago; we chat at least every so often to catch up. Bobby’s old punk band reformed because of me, and we released a single together two weeks ago if you want to have a listen. Arjun and Elijah are a given for me too, especially Elijah because he has runway gigs that I’m DJing for coming up. There's a dance video of the three of us doing a routine to 'Ride It' by Jay Sean in the rain on Arjun's YouTube and 'Rush' by Baby Bash on Elijah's that came out three days ago.”

“Graham and Elisa, and Bobby and Lottie are mutual friends to us now.” Imane was working on a simple neutral eyeshadow look. “The three frontrunners of one season remaining in their couples after the show ends and all being friends is unheard of from previous instalments, never mind all the chosen Casa Amor boys making it to the finale.” She patted a dusting of champagne shimmer against their eyelids before moving on to eyeliner. “Elisa, Lottie, Priya, one of my pre-Love Island friends Veronica and I went drag-racing and there’s a video up on Elisa’s YouTube channel if you want to see what we got up to. Search up ‘Real-Life Bratz Dolls Take On Drag-Racing’ and you should find it. Li commissioned such good artwork for it.” They paused to create a perfect cat eye flick. “I’m also still close to Henrik, and Siobhan and Blake are really outstanding women I got to befriend after the show was over. Blake just got a terrible edit, I promise.”

“She’s a really sound girl.” Kassam took a cotton bud, tapped it in toner and gently removed the sheer foundation from the beauty mark next to her right eye, grinning when she gave him a kiss on the cheek in thanks. “’Are you learning any new languages?’”

They easily curled their lashes and started applying mascara. “We’re both slowly learning Mandarin Chinese, since it’s been a dream of ours to visit Shanghai, Hangzhou, Macau and Singapore in the near future. Shanghai International Fashion Culture Festival’s so lively; it would be a joy to be invited.”

“I’m better at speaking it as of right now, but Imane’s better at reading and identifying characters.” He opened their cream blushers to find a well-suited colour for himself. “One of my university flatmates actually gave me a Chinese name back in the day and I gave him an Arabic one; we practised conversation a lot in our free time.” He settled for a subtle medium deep terracotta.

“Our Chinese names are really nice, if I’m honest. Hasang Yanjun and Mei Rong are quite lucky.” She finished up with some inner corner glitter and returned her attention to him. “I’ve said it before on a previous stream, but if you’re a new viewer my Korean name’s Mae Haneul. Rong means exactly what Imane means in Arabic, since Haneul is an indigenous Korean name and can’t be translated into Chinese.”

He hummed, fixing a loop of hair for her and tucking it behind their ear. “’Your Hogwarts houses?’ Three, two, one.”

“Slytherin.” The two of them said in unison; she smiled and kept sheering out the blusher with her fingertips.

“The author’s a weirdo, by the way. We both don’t condone her beliefs or her retcons.” Kassam rolled his eyes. “As much as the public would love for me to be a Ravenclaw, the people closest to me recognise that I’m very much a Slytherin.”

“If any person of colour grew up feeling disgusting for being a Slytherin, remember that tradition, intentional loyalty and filial piety are not inherently bad things. To be a good person, you must understand the rules and know when it’s right to break them.” She smiled and patted along his cheeks. “I would have appreciated it growing up to have been told that, so I hope that those words mean something to the people who needed to hear it.”

“Do you know what your Patronus is?” Blue eyes gazed into hazel, and he tapped out the itch against his nose to not disturb the makeup. “Mine is a dragon.”

They arched a brow. “Mine is a tiger.” Her available little finger slipped against his and she kissed his ring. “Very majestic creatures, if I might add.” She turned to see the stream monitor, pausing for a moment. “Thank you so much for reaching over £5000 so soon into the stream. We’re doing a charity question and answer for Al Jalila Foundation, and whatever is raised from your donations Kassam and I will each match to triple. Any questions we can’t finish answering today will be compiled by my mods so we can answer on Instagram Stories another day and save everything under a story highlight.” She made a heart shape with their fingers and smiled while reading the outpour of stream comments. “’If you were a vampire from V:TM, what clan would you belong to?’”

“Oh, that’s hard to pinpoint. It’s been a few years since I’ve played actually.” He waited for them to finish smudging lip liner against the inner third of his lips before talking again. “Mmm, I reckon I’d be a Tremere nowadays; one of the paths I always defaulted to learning whenever I played a Tremere was Gift of Morpheus, which is the inspiration for my R&B name.”

“Playing as a Ventrue isn’t too far of a stretch for me, but I do think Toreador is where I fit quite naturally. Being a pageant girl and someone who wants to go into social work, it’s the two opposite sides to seeing the beauty in humanity.” She dabbed a small amount of balm onto his lips and gestured for him to draw them in to blend out the liner, smiling at the end result. “You look very handsome.”

Kassam glanced at the stream monitor to see himself, turning this way and that to admire their work. The nutmeg ombre on his lips was the last finishing touch the look needed. “I feel like a stunner, love.” He kissed the back of her hand to take off the excess balm, leaning toward them to plant a variety of cheek kisses on her as a form of thanks.

She giggled, pretending to pout. “You’re giving me lip liner smudges on my cheek, tiger.”

“Like you don’t give me those ever.” He chuckled and swiped away the minimal transfer on her cheek with a thumb before going back to the questions. “’What cosmetic procedures have either of you gotten?’” He pointed at his forehead, letting her draw a small heart underneath his eye in black liquid liner. “Botox for chronic migraines and botox in my jaw. I have something called temporomandibular joint disorder, or TMJ, but it’s a mild enough case that I don’t need to undergo surgery. It just became a bad stress response to grind my jaw that Botox made the most sense.”

“Botox for the frown lines for me as well and I had a lip flip when I was running for Miss Lebanon but that's worn off a long time ago, and that’s it. Neither of us had any appearance-altering procedures, but we don’t have anything against plastic surgery as long as you’re doing things for yourself and not for other people’s validation or because it’s trendy. Also, I would recommend therapy before getting anything done, just to see if you're in the right headspace or doing things explicitly for yourself. It never hurts to realise that physical insecurities can have underlying meanings or doing a general check-in with your mental health.” She smiled in the mirror while finishing up her blusher. “’Have you rewatched the show after you got out?’ I only watched all of the Casa Amor episodes, the Stick or Switch edit and the first half of the finale. The main villa really got so much drama that we never got to see; Blake said that there was so much cut out from the Jakub fight because the girls were using too foul of language to air.”

“Emily threw in Jakub’s freshly ironed socks into the pool; it was great reality telly.” The Algerian settled his cheek against her hair right above her ear. “I watched the episode that we played Snog Marry Pie and the episode we got stuck indoors because of the rain and played games all day. There are some edits on YouTube and TikTok of every facial expression we’ve made; my favourite’s called ‘Kassam On, Kassam Off.exe’ because the uploader took the time to go through gig videos for snippets of my face and then contrasted it to when I was in the villa. There’s another one that starts off with Marisol’s Casa Amor meddling to make Imane not trust me then it’s an entire 15 minutes of proving her wrong.” He picked up their baked highlighter compact and dusted some onto the slope of her nose with his finger while she was working on her lip liner. “’Isn’t it too early to propose after just a year of dating?’ No, I think people forget that you still grow in your relationship post-proposal and post-marriage. We’re both at a point in our lives that we’re dating to marry, rather than dating to not feel lonely. If someone really wants you in their life, they’re going to make it known.” A brow raised. “I’m a bit traditional in that way.”

Imane’s lips upturned and she capped her lip pencil. “Not everyone will understand Arab marriage culture.” She blended out the reddish brown and added a glassy sheen with gloss. “’What is your favourite quality of each other?’”

He pondered for a moment while drawing a lightning bolt underneath their left eye in liquid eyeliner. “I appreciate how what means a lot to me comes easily for her, like helping me make the bed every single morning without fail whenever we sleep over at each other’s places or cooking me food when I’m in crunch mode. Little gestures like that make a world of a difference because there’s nothing fundamentally changing her behaviour to suit my lifestyle; the way she naturally loves is how I feel loved.”

“Both of our forms of feeling loved revolves around quality time, but it’s not just hanging out together in the same space which is really challenging because both of us are really busy. Kassam does things for me to make his presence nourishing or healing.” She pouted and leaned into him. “He fills up my water bottle when it’s running low or lets me have times where I can fully turn off and relax or gives me the time of day to express myself and make me feel heard, since he’s an excellent communicator through actions and words alike. It never really hit me how much I value having someone who doesn’t overexplain or overshare things, which my therapist told me that oversharing in a relationship’s not nourishing to my mental health and ends up draining me or feeding into the paranoia that I have from trauma.”

She smiled and rubbed her hand against his jaw, planting a soft kiss against his nose. “He’s just really healing to be around for me, and I really like and appreciate him.”

Their phone wallpapers were of each other from their Vogue Arabia front cover posing with a black leopard, a white tiger and two Burmese pythons. It was the mutual obsession yet very humane longing they had for one another.

“We sound unbearably cavity-inducing.” He stole a kiss from them and pressed his cheek against the crook of her neck. “I really like and appreciate you too, otter. Thank you for loving me and thank you for letting me love you.”

“And you said that you’re not a sweetheart, babes.” She patted the top of his head and ruffled his hair, giggling when he made a faux annoyed noise into their skin. “’Imane, did your height affect the way you were treated in the villa when it came to romantic interests?’ Yes, absolutely. Tall women are an acquired taste and because the second tallest girl in the villa for the longest time was Priya, at 5 foot 5, I stuck out so much before Elisa came in. A lot of the men wrote me off or called me either scary, man-eating or intimidating when I’m really not that way…” Her hand found his under the desk. “I think Carl recognised the error in his ways when Lottie pulled him for a chat about it during his washing duties because he apologised to me later that evening and we got on well after that. He’s the only guy who did and it meant a lot. Henrik, of course, didn’t mind because he’s 6 foot 3 and he would always be my hypeman whenever I came outside wearing my tallest heels.” She pointed at him. “Clearly, this one also saw through my height.”

Kassam chuckled. “Not everyone can date a goddess, clearly.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Imane kissed him and proceeded to set his face with mist to shut him up, but they were smiling against his lips. “Charmer. ‘Was Lucas ever an actual threat to the relationship?’”

“Absolutely fucking not. I’m not the type of guy who tolerates being in whatever twisted love triangle the producers were trying to set up. If there was even the slightest indication that Imane was interested in Lucas when he came back in, that’s enough to tell me she didn’t like me enough to begin with and I would have just walked. Lucas might have it in him to be into drama like that, but I get turned off when someone can’t make up their mind that I need to make it for them.” He opened his eyes and fanned his face dry with a hand. “You didn’t like him the first time he came in either, did you?”

“You didn’t watch the first week so you never heard the conversation the girls and I had about whether or not we’ve taken back an ex.” Their eyebrow arched, amused. “I said I’d rather drink poison. This Lucas could have chased me around the villa for all he cared, but I make sure my exes are lessons and not regrets. The minute he let it slip that Hope and Priya were his first two choices to Henrik but told everyone else that I was his first pick, that golden retriever of a man came running up to me to tell me the truth after Lucas got sent home. It just confirmed that the gut reaction I had was correct about him, that he was just like my ex and from then on there was absolutely no emotion left for him. I just took it on the chin and kept things moving with Henrik for two weeks before Casa Amor.”

The Algerian smiled, hugging them tightly to his chest. “Good, good head on your shoulders. I think everyone in the villa apart from a select few were jumping for joy seeing you really fancied for once.” He kissed the side of her forehead. “‘Was it a shock to you to find out Kassam’s past type of DJing, Imane?’”

“No, I actually have a few pictures of myself from my early university days where I had silver hair and an undercut. The goth subculture was very much my home.” She pulled out her phone and went into Photo Memories, scrolling back to 2012 and showing him professional photos of them with little to no tattoos but with silver blond hair.

His jaw dropped. “You look like the type of girl I would have gone for when I was 19.” He zoomed in on their almost ink-free arms. “It’s so strange seeing you with just the sunbird and that one.” His pointer finger rested on the Medusa medallion. “[You’ve been through a lot],” he whispered and kissed her forehead. “[You turned out alright.]”

“[I know.]” Imane smiled and gave him a tender hug, the two of them staying quiet for a moment before she murmured against his chest. “We can answer a few more questions, I think.”

He planted a few more kisses on the top of her hair, his heart warming when he could feel their smile through his shirt, and looked back to the monitors. “‘Would either of you be friendly with Marisol? She seemed like she wanted to patch things up with you two after the announcement of her dumping.’ No for me. There are some people you just will never get along with, no matter if they’re a good person or not. Marisol just isn’t my cup of tea. I wish her all the best nonetheless.”

“No for me as well.” She snuggled into him, their rings clinking together when she reached for his hand. “I don’t think the producers aired the conversation that happened with the six original girls in the first week, but Marisol and I were having a one-sided heated conversation about psychology. I told her that I don’t believe in Jungian theory of personality and she proceeded to ask me what my MBTI was, because she couldn’t understand that bigotry of the creator could bleed into their creation. I just… never felt quite comfortable with how people utilised the type indicator in the past or how Jungian theory in itself relied on cult tactics without giving room for healthy critical thinking, and Marisol understandably couldn’t see that because the branch of psychology she studies is meant to treat people like case studies. That’s what criminal law entails, so I understand why it’s so easy for her to believe that there are simple answers within subliminals and that there are only sixteen personality types.” She sighed. “Our philosophies are vastly different, on top of her willingness to sabotage situations intentionally. We just aren’t meant to be friendly and that’s okay. I still don’t wish anything bad on her.”

“It’s not like we’ll be avoiding her, if we do end up bumping into each other.” He shrugged and took a sip of water. “‘What perfumes/colognes do you wear? Enough people commented on how good you two smelled that we’re all curious.’”

“Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, Penhaligon Halfeti, Le Labo Thé Noir 29 and Jo Malone Dark Amber and Ginger Lily for him. I bought him the Halfeti cologne because I thought it really suited him.” She hugged his torso and smiled. “It does. I wear Valentino Donna Born In Roma, Bulgari Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert, Penhaligon Equinox Bloom and Kayali Elixir 11 the most frequently.”

“The Tom Ford cologne was a graduation present from my mum; I only use it on certain occasions where I need a confidence booster. It’s probably not getting repurchased by me once I finish the bottle; I still have about this much in it.” He measured out slightly less than 2 centimetres with his fingers. “I’ll repurpose it as decor.”

“Tom Ford colognes are never worth the steep price point,” she whispered into the mic. “Kassam might smell delicious with it but you can buy the same exact fragrance from Oakcha, trust me.”

He pecked her on the cheek, smiling against their skin. “It’s called Torrid Day; thank us later.” His eyes fell back on the questions. "Some rapid fire questions: 'Kassam, will you ever walk the runway again?' It depends on who asks me; I've had Chanel request for a walk, but I personally don't support the brand so I turned them down." He shrugged. "I won't say I'll never be on the runway again, but I like to be the element of surprise when the opportunity arises so you'll never hear on socials me announcing that I signed a deal."

Imane let out a hum and settled into his chest, her hand gently smoothing over the fabric of his shirt. “‘Who are your biggest inspirations?’ Is it cheesy to say my parents?” Her head found his shoulder. "The reason why I'm the way I am is because of my mum being a role model to my sister and I, and my papa taught me how to be compassionate and loving but not completely selfless."

”My mum too.” He chuckled, rubbing the side of her hip. “She was a single mother who raised me and my sister on her own for more than half my life, even when I was a little bit of a problem child.” A smile graced his lips. “It comes to a shock to her that her stubbornness rubbed off on me, but I love her and appreciate all the sacrifices she made. Hopefully one day I can repay her for what she’s done.”

”You already have, handsome.” The brunette patted his cheek, gently gazing at him. “Being here is already enough.”

The Algerian bumped foreheads with her, kissing her nose. “That’s one way to put it.” His hand squeezed hers as he looked back at the screens. “‘Did Imane ever find out that you saw her and Priya dancing the last night of Casa Amor before rewatching the episodes?’”

Hazel eyes glimmered, her tongue poking out of their mouth. “No, but I did feel someone watching us.” Her lips curled. “I think it was very nice of him to not stick around for the whole thing.”

”It wasn’t my place and I just stumbled into them dancing on happenstance.” He snorted. “I’d rather not intrude on things that aren’t meant for my eyes to see, even if it’s beautiful.”

The Lebanese tilted her head up, meeting his eyes and smiling with their own. “And you ever doubted that I would take you back, handsome?”

He winked, letting a moment of silence pass between them like a kiss.

“One more question, and then we’ll end stream?” Imane gave him a subtle Puss in Boots look and squeezed his hands when he said yes. “It’s only because it’s been a milestone of mine to raise more than £6000 within one stream. Thank you so much to you all and whatever this dork did.” She gestured at him. “You can choose the last one.”

Kassam whistled while scrolling through questions, spotting a familiar username in the donor questions. “Thank you akantheros, or Seb if you don’t know who he is, for your £25 donation. ‘Are you usually this touchy feely with your partners? You two make a great e-couple.’” He grinned. “Thanks, mate. I’m only very physically affectionate with people I feel emotionally and culturally understood. A lot of my exes didn’t ‘understand’ traditions I grew up with, but with Imane since we’re both from the Arab League we share traditions or understand the importance of honouring our heritage.” He patted their thigh. “I think it’s also good to be an example for boys to see that men can be very warm and not just be stoic in order to be strong; toxic masculinity can go drown. She’s my woman and I’ll show her off to the world like she deserves.” He smiled. "Any man would be lucky to have her in his life."

She smiled, moving a strand of her hair out of their faces. “I’m only physically affectionate with people I feel safe around. A lot of women might know what I’m talking about, but I’m quite closed off if I feel unsafe or taken for granted as an intuitive protective measure. I think you can see examples from Love Island of that behaviour pre-Casa Amor. Kassam makes me feel healed and safe, and it in turn makes me more likely to give out my love in more outward directions.” They ran a hand through his hair to make it slightly rumpled. “I think we had a good stream, hmm?”

“It was lovely and relaxing; thank you for making me into your vision. I can’t wait to see the amount of edits coming out of this stream.” He grinned and remained exactly where he was, tucked against her shoulder while she said their stream farewells and ended the live.

“Let’s wash up and head to bed, handsome.” Imane tapped his nose before organising everything perfectly back onto the tray. “I’m kind of sleepy.”

The Algerian hummed in agreement, swiping his foundation from the other makeup, and allowed her to lead him out of the streaming room after turning off the lights. He slotted the bottle into the inner compartment of his duffel bag and filed into the bathroom, taking the time to meticulously wash his face clean as they brushed their teeth, vice versa.

His hand easily slid against her tummy, and she giggled at the touch.

“Wait for me while I shower, otter?” he whispered into their hair.

She smiled at him in the mirror; it was a wordless answer that he didn’t need any more cues for.

She did. Altair and Jourdain were resting by her feet, warming themselves on the sheets and yawning.

He slid into the black satin covers after shutting the bedside light on his half and slipping his phone onto the wireless charging dock next to hers, pulling her closer to him and relishing in the feeling of their silk teddy against his hands. His eyes adjusted to the newfound dimness in the room, coloured slightly red from their sunset lamp and ambient glow from the moon-shaped light, finding their hazel eyes twinkling and looking at him.

“You look so happy, handsome.” The Lebanese caressed his cheeks and pulled him down to kiss him, lips warm and soft and welcoming.

He chuckled against their mouth, indulging them in a few more lazy kisses and wrapping his arms around her. “I was thinking weddings just now and how nice ours would be.”

She smiled and rested her hands along his chest. “I think it would be a beautiful wedding, just between the two of us. I never used to be able to picture a person I could see me marrying until I met you, you know.”

“It always used to be a dark cloud dancing with me until one day I spun it around on the dance floor and it became you in a custom Zuhair-made wedding dress.” The Algerian gently pressed a kiss against their cheek. “You looked so beautiful I forgot all the languages I could possibly speak for a moment.”

“Charmer.” They turned her head to meet his lips, letting out a slight huff when his hand slid against their bare outer thigh. “I have a feeling you want to plan a small wedding for only our families and then a big wedding for family and friends.”

“You’re correct.” He kissed down to her shoulder, hearing the blissful sound of their sighs as he did so. “I’m going to ask permission from your omm a few weeks before I propose, so she’s the first person who will know.”

Hazel eyes glittered at the remark, and her hand trailed down to his waist. “Ommi’s going to really like you if you do that, Sammi…”

“She deserves a decent son-in-law, even if the son-in-law looks like trouble.” He tilted her head back and kissed her again, feeling them relax into the sheets and into him.

For a long moment, there was only the soft sounds of lips kissing skin, quiet moans and grunts and the rustling of bedsheets against the purring of their sleeping pets. His hands found the small of her waist as he kissed their breasts through her sleepwear. Her heart nipple rings had switched out for delicate half rings that resembled a laurel, a small diamond teardrop on each. He loved tugging at them with his teeth to see her melt into him.

“I missed you so much.” Kassam murmured, bumping foreheads with her and kissing her again.

She laughed, a sound he would never get tired of hearing, against his lips and buried her face into his neck. “The doctor said to wait two more weeks before any bedroom antics, tiger.”

He smiled, ruffling her hair with a hand, and pulled her on top of his chest. “I can still admire you though, can’t I?” He slowly bunched up the teddy above their navel, moving her so she gently sat against his ribcage and leaning up to kiss the scars and slight swelling that would be gone within the next few days. “You’re so beautiful to me.”

Imane held his head there for a moment, a hand gently carding through her own hair, a soft upturn in their lips warming the silhouette of her face. “You make me feel beautiful, you know.”

She was so nurturing, so gentle with him.

“We’re going to be fifty and I’ll still celebrate you like the goddess you are, otter.” Kassam pressed a few more kisses against her bare stomach, resting his forehead against their skin and silently sent out a prayer of good health, and let her settle into his embrace however way she felt comfortable.

“In a lovely house together, decorated with lots of malachite and tiger’s eye everywhere.” She giggled and kissed his cheek, resting hers against his chest after. “Can you see us with two children?”

“Two or three, but I’m happy with two. My baby fever gets worse every single day.” The Algerian tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I think my manager has a video compilation of me being good with her kids as blackmail.”

“She’ll text it to me if I asked her for it, wouldn't she?” They squeaked when he lunged at her with soft bites to the neck, muffling her laughter and quiet whimpers with her pillow. “It would be so helpful when I’m ovulating.”

He nibbled at the tender area underneath their ear, pretending to growl territorially before giving in and peppering her with jaw kisses. “You’re going to wring me out to dry for those pesky 48 hours of petulant horniness, otter.”

“Not that you’re complaining about it; I’m so sweet to you after and I cook for us. Tajine zitoun and dolma always seem to find the sweet spot for you, on top of having me for dessert again.” She flicked his nose teasingly. “Next summer when you’re touring almost nonstop for weeks, I bet you’re going to miss me not being there.”

“Phone sex exists for a reason, honey. You knew what you were doing when calling me just as I woke up while you were in Dubai last month.” He nestled into his pillow, facing her. A lopsided smile was on his face, remembering the visual of her lounging on her bed wearing his favourite lingerie set under a modest silk robe. “And you dared to pretend like you weren’t teasing me.”

She feigned ignorance and pouted out her lower lip, pulling the covers over both their shoulders. “Your voice is just really nice to listen to in the morning, handsome. I couldn’t help myself.”

He chuckled and leaned in to give them one last kiss, indulging her with a tender forehead peck afterward. “You’re going to hear it tomorrow, so it better be.”

"It's always nice to listen to, tiger." Her gaze softened when their hand raised to caress his jaw, smoothing her gentle fingertips along his hairline. "You know that."

They stayed relatively close to each other, fingers laced underneath the sheets, and Kassam watched hazel eyes close and dark lashes flutter together.

“[Sweet dreams, my light.]” His lips pressed together as he took in the way her face resembled an angel's. "[I can't believe you're mine.]"

Imane smiled, almost glowing underneath the dim warmth.

“[And you mine. May you reach the morning well, my soul.]”

He did. There wasn’t a single nightmare he had that night.