The next morning, I wake up at 4:38 a.m. I pray Fajr, go back to sleep and wake up a little later to do a few workouts and take a shower. I walk downstairs to make breakfast, but today there is a significant addition. I have to cook for that man, Ismail. I can't still believe he is living with us.
Today I am making pancakes for the kids while I prepare coffee, eggs, and French toast for Waheeda, Aazim, and Ismail. Everyone comes down after getting ready.
"Good morning, aunt," Aayan and Eman say, coming down the stairs looking cute in their school uniform.
My sister has her kids in a private school, so they wear a uniform.
Aayan is four years old, has Afro black hair, a light skin tone, hazel brown eyes, and a round face.
"Good morning," Waheeda and Aazim say while coming down the stairs.
"How was your night?" I say placing their breakfast in front of them.
"It was fine. Won't you get ready for work?" Waheeda says.
"I will, just after I finish doing this," I say plating Ismail's breakfast.
"Good morning, slave," I whisper to Ismail once he walks into the kitchen.
"Don't call me that," he whispers back.
"I can call you whatever I like because I am the master here and you are the slave," I grin.
"Not anymore. Check your phone." he says with a big smirk.
"What did you do?" I say picking up my phone to check for the pictures, but I am not able to find them.
"How do you know my passcode?" I say, making a mental note to stop using my birthday for my passcode.
"Anyone who knows you can guess your passcode."
"This is not the last you heard of me. I will find something to use against you and bend you to my will," I say in a dramatic tone.
"This is the last of you," he says using a dramatic tone too.
"I can't believe two adults are acting like children," Waheeda says watching our interaction.
"Do you know how both of you sound?"
"Why are you copying me?" we both ask.
"Both of you stop," Aazim says.
"Alright," we say.
"I am going upstairs to get ready for work. Ismail your breakfast is on the table," I say, making my way upstairs.
"Oh, how lovely of you!"
"Don't expect it every time, mister."
"I won't," he says with a smirk while enjoying his breakfast, clearly not taking me seriously.
I walk up the stairs to my room. The walls are painted light grey while the ceiling is painted white and has a chandelier in the middle. There is a queen size bed, two white pillows and two light grey pillows with a floral pattern on them. A white blanket with fluffy edges. There are two banana-colored chairs in front of my bed with a little table and a TV on the far wall. On either side of the bed is a white bedside table with flower vases on it. There are two doors in my room; one leads to the bathroom while the other leads to the closet. My room is one of the reasons why I don't mind living with my sister. It's everything I wished my room to be.
Today I am wearing checkered black and white trousers, a black blazer, a white blouse, a white scarf to use for my hijab (which is a headscarf), a black bag and a black set of heels. After I have finished dressing and applying a little makeup to my face, I walk downstairs to go to work, but not before eating my breakfast.
YOU ARE READING
Clueless love (BWWM)
Romance"What he means is that I am moving in, whether you like it or not," Ismail says with the same nasty look "I have never killed a human being, but if you wake up tomorrow and find your brother dead, don't be surprised. We all know we can't stand each...
