Dare You To Love Me

«43» beneath the surface

The evening of the next day, Yaseerah and Bilal sat cross-legged on the floor of the guest bedroom where Mamu has resided for the last couple of weeks, game controllers in hand, and gazes fixed firmly on the TV screen, deeply immersed in an intense video game.

Mamu lay propped up against a mountain of pillows, watching them as they bantered, her frail frame dwarfed by the large bed. Her eyes were soft with love, and clouded with a hint of nostalgia, as she recalled the simpler days when the duo would sit in front of the TV in the living room, and compete in these games, back at the cottage.

She reveled in their presence, the simple joy of having them close and somewhat appearing like their former selves easing a bit of her pain, and the guilt she felt for unintentionally making them put their lives on hold to take care of her.

The beeping and clicking from the TV mingled with their laughter and playful jabs, their voices overlapping with warmth and affection, as they engaged in a playful banter.

“Come on, Yaseerah, you’re terrible at this!” Bilal jibed, his eyes flicking between Yaseerah and the screen, his brows knotted with fierce concentration. “Give it up already, and just admit defeat.”

“Oh, please!” Yaseerah rolled her eyes, shooting him a mock glare, as she mashed the buttons with exaggerated intensity, making her player run into Bilal’s. “You know I’m just letting you win because I feel sorry for you.”

Mamu’s lips curved into a soft smile as she listened to them, her heart swelling at the. How long has it been since she heard such carefree laughter?

“Is that so?” Bilal grinned evilly, as he mashed several buttons in succession on his controller.

“Oh no, not again!” Yaseerah groaned, as Bilal’s character overtook hers on the screen.

“Ha! In your face! Victory is mine!” Bilal declared, raising his arms in triumph.

“You’re such a show-off,” she pouted, rolling her eyes as she set her controller down.

“I’m not a show-off,” Bilal said, a wide grin plastered on his face, as he puffed out his chest in a show of machoness. “I’m just skilled.”

“Skilled?” Yaseerah raised an eyebrow. “Luck, you mean?”

“We both know it has nothing to do with luck, and everything to do with me being a better player,” Bilal chuckled, leaning over to flick her cheek with the tip of his finger.

“Whatever rocks your boat,” she frowned, swatting his hand away. “We both know I’m a great gamer. I just got distracted, and you took advantage of it.”

“Sure you were,” Bilal’s grin widened, as he poked her arm playfully. “Is that your new excuse for losing to me? What got you so distracted? Albi?”

A rosy hue darkened Yaseerah’s cheeks, and she swatted at Bilal’s arm indignantly, trying and failing to hide her reddened cheeks. “Stop it, B.”

“Why?” Bilal blinked at her innocently. “What’s wrong, Albi?”

Yaseerah’s blush deepened, and she glared at Bilal, though her eyes twinkled with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “I said stop it, B. You’re being insufferable.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started, Albi,” Bilal smirked, leaning back on his hands, clearly enjoying himself. “I think it’s cute. You should be proud.”

“Drop it,” Yaseerah muttered, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

“Does it mean something? Albi? It sounds like something sweet,” Bilal mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “My Arabic’s a little rusty, but it sounds like a little bird or something delicate.”