Bookworms | ✔

fifty-three

Knock Knock.

Shuffling was heard behind the Younes' family home, followed by the teasing giggles of the siblings as their footsteps raced towards the door. Nicholas bit his smile back, eyes visualizing Dina and her brothers tripping one another to answer the door first, and reveal their unexpected visitor.

"Guys!" whined a childish voice from far into their home. "Wait for me!"

"Dina, I claimed door rights," yelled Humaid.

Dina scoffed. "That's not even a thing."

"It is now!" he countered, his voice coming closer to the door.

A loud thump and crash was heard as the siblings most likely toppled on top of each other. Their voices drowned into a sea of hyperactive children, finding pleasure in the smallest things like opening a door. Although their bickering continued, calm footsteps approached the door, and Nicholas tensed.

He held his breath, praying it wasn't their father.

Luckily, Haroon opened the door, his classic black beanie covering his dark mass of hair, inky strands feathering his forehead. At seeing Nicholas's nervous face, he grinned, his glasses glinting like diamonds in the sunlight.

"Assalamualaikum, Nick," he said, leaning against the door frame. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

A smile broke across Nicholas's lips. "Waalaikumussalam, Haroon. Do I even want to know what all that pushing and shoving was?" he asked, raising a brow.

Haroon shrugged. "They're children. What do you expect?"

"Hey!" yelled the chorus of siblings.

The older twin looked behind his shoulder, possibly checking if his sisters had their hijabs on, before he opened the door wider. Nicholas stepped in, right foot first as the Sunnah (Prophetic tradition) said, whispering a small prayer he recently learned. Slipping his shoes off, he followed an impressed Haroon into their living room.

Dina and Humaid were still on the ground when he walked in, pouting at one another with deadly glares, an odd combination to say the least. Dunya, the youngest of the bunch, stared at her older brother and sister with a shy smile hiding behind her hands.

Nicholas chuckled. "I'm glad that you two are still as foolish as ever."

At the smooth tone of his voice, Dina's anger dissipated into the cool air of their house like icy breaths on a cold, winter day. Her captivating, yet exotic umber eyes met his in a quick, affectionate glance. Blushing, she averted her gaze, pretending to fix her hijab.

Humaid stood up, greeting Nicholas with their typical handshake. "Nice to see you again after that awkward library encounter," he said, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry about that, sport."

"Don't worry about it. You were just being a good brother," said Nicholas. "But I have come to ask your father about something."

All four siblings slowly turned to him, eyes wide in disbelief and visages painted in complete, utter fear like he had stepped into forbidden territory with his request. Dina and Dunya were ghostly pale while Haroon and Humaid failed to wrap their head around the request.

"Nicholas?" asked a soft, motherly voice. "Did you say you were looking for my husband?"

He averted his gaze. "Y-Yes. Is that a bad thing?" he questioned through the bundle of nerves that had his tongue tied. His fingers fidgeted with the velvet box in his pocket.

"Not at all!" she exclaimed, eyes brightening. "Ignore those four. They often get the wildest imaginations."

"To be fair," commented Haroon, "our imaginations derive from the arbitrary demeanor of our beloved father's judgments."