A Latte of Love

【☕】7

Gunshots boom through the speakers, so loud that it rattles Ahmed. He runs over to where I'm seated on the sofa and plops onto my lap. He squeezes his eyes shut and covers his ears with his hands. I roll my eyes when another gunshot roars through the room and a girl screams. He looks away from the screen and whimpers softly.

"Shh, it's not real." I run my fingers through his fluffy hair gently.

The doorbell rings, interrupting the shooting scene. I look over to my dad who is sitting on the opposite side of the couch, eyeing him to open the door. He looks over at my mom who is busy using the sewing machine. Her eyes are trained on the television screen, oblivious to our stares.

The doorbell rings again. I wait another second before rushing over to open it, stopping short to throw on a hijab.

"Open the door!" the familiar mischievous voice rings from the other side. I turn the handle and my cousin, Ayaan, comes into view, holding onto a tray that smelled a lot like fresh beef biryani. My eyes light up at the delicious sight of the oily goodness.

"Assalamu Alaikum! Auntie didn't have to send over such delicious food again," I say, grabbing the tray from him and letting go of the door, without caring to invite him inside. The door slams right onto his face.

My mom arrives at the wrong moment, as usual, seeing that Ayaan was shut out. She smacks my arm lightly and reaches out to open the door.

"Auntie, you see how your daughter treats me!" he complains. Here we go again. My mom passes me a glare and returns to giving him an earnest smile which I never seem to get.

We hear the sound of windows shattering and more sounds of people screaming for their lives.

"Chachu, what are you watching?" Ayaan calls from the door. He reaches down to take off his shoes and my mom takes his coat to hang on the wall.

"Watching bad stuff," Ahmed pipes in from the living room with his eyes still closed.

Ayaan gasps, opening his eyes wide. "Oh no, we have to punish your grandpa! Come here, let's find some hidden weapons to train with."

Ahmed immediately jumps off the couch in ecstasy.

"You're going to fall!" I call out.

They both stalk off to grab Ahmed's nerf guns and proceed to have a shooting battle. In the midst, Ayaan calls my name. "Hey, Salwa, when are you going to graduate? You should come by my office like you promised."

"What promise?" I call from the kitchen as I prepare coffee for Ayaan to drink.

He ducks under the table, hiding from Ahmed's searching eyes. He crawls all the way under the table and towards the kitchen's entrance. Looking over my shoulder, he responds, "You said you would be free after you graduated."

"Stop being childish." I pour the coffee into the cup. "How much sugar?"

"Make it as sweet as you," he shyly says, regretting it instantly and glances away. I shiver in disgust. I pull out a pile of salt when he is not looking and pour it into his coffee.

"I found you! Boom boom, die!" Ahmed comes running into the kitchen. I give him a thumbs up from behind his back, and they continue their battle brawl with the nerf guns.

Ahmed runs behind a delivery box near the front door and strategically dodges three of Ayaan's bullets. He lowers his small head so his body can't be seen anymore. Ayaan tiptoes towards the box and angles his gun at the side, shooting his last bullet. It bounces off the box and lands on the floor. Ahmed reaches out his small hand and grabs the bullet. Within seconds, we hear a pull and click from behind the cardboard. I hear an oomph from where Ayaan is standing a few feet away and watch him drop to the ground, his hands covering his privates.