A/N: I LOVE YOU GUYS SM THANK YOU.
Plus Kenneth on top as a blond, I'm dead.

———

How is that for a remix, Kenneth?

I drop my phone unceremoniously and try to concentrate on the draft I'm working on. Writing stories can be a drag when you're hungry. The bright side is the fact that I'm getting very familiar with the occasional tummy growl, so I'm not as frustrated as I'm meant to be.

But why is Kenneth suddenly being very persistent? He wasn't trying to win me back before Damon came into the picture but all of a sudden...he's sending me text messages and buckets of my favorite chocolate.

Now is not the time to think about Kenneth, Paulina. Concentrate on the story in front of you.

For once, I take advice from my conscience.

She smiles but it's concealed by the veil—the niqab—covering most of her face. Mascara laden eyes shine with mirth as she slowly winks at the villain underneath the sole of her five-inch black wedges.
"Who are you?" the villain wheezes as he slowly loses consciousness. Blood dribbles down his face and hits the concrete beneath him but he ignores the feeling of drowsiness as he eyes the superheroine with the mask that only shows her grey eyes.
"I am Halaal," she replies. Her voice is husky, her stance is confident and her eyes sparkle with determination. She raises a dart gun and aims at his neck. "And what you just did is haram."

WHAT THE FUDGE DID I JUST WRITE?!

That's not a cool catchphrase! 'What you just did is haram'?!

NO!

Cool superheroes are meant to have cool catchphrases! For example:

1. Captain America: Avengers Assemble!

2. The Powerpuff Girls: Not so fast, Mojo Jojo! (or whoever they want to beat up, cute girls with so much ambition)

3. Danny Phantom: Going ghost!

4. Captain Marvel: Shazam!

5. Ben Tennyson: It's hero time!

...Okay, maybe the last one is a bit of a stretch, but to be fair, he was only like...ten or something? Plus, Gwen wasn't being helpful.

I take a deep breath and exhale. Then I calmly put my notebook under my pillow stare up at the ceiling.

Writing is a hobby of mine. It always has been and it always will be. But what do I do if...if I can't write? I know I'm not Shakespeare or John Green but I like to think that my writing isn't total trash. Aside from my lack of proper talent in the writing area, I know I'm not the smartest person but I do try my best in school. But I know my skills don't reside in academics.

Take Vanessa for example; she's in a band and she gets straight A's. She wants to be a lawyer someday and she's working hard towards it while being a rebellious teenager at the same time.

Yet I...

No, this is not the time to be depressed. It's Ramadan. I'm meant to be happy and most definitely not stressed.

I take my phone and open the Quran app on my phone. When in doubt, pray.

———

"Paulina! There's a gorgeous boy here and he's here to see you!" Georgia's voice rings through the safe haven of my dance and I pause mid whip.

"It's so not fair, Paulina always gets hot guys coming over to see her, what gives?!" Vanessa fakes a whine. She's sitting on my bed with her laptop. Something about looking for colleges close-by that she can apply to. Or just trying to look for a new movie to watch.

I don't bother to give her a reply. My mind is working hard, trying to make out what Georgia means.

Really, which other hot guy do I know? Kenneth definitely won't receive a warm welcome into my home and Damon has work.

Hmm...

I check my appearance by looking at my reflection; sweat pants, baggy shirt, no makeup, rumpled veil.

Oh well. It's not like I'm looking for a guy to fall in love with me.

I leave the room and bound down the stairs. I can see the back of Georgia's head bobbing at the entrance to the living room and I sigh.

"Thanks, Georgia. But...who is it?"

She turns round to give me a grin. "My future son in law, hopefully."

I raise my eyebrows in shock as a familiar voice says, "Well if the wedding band fits."

Oh. Damon.

Georgia moves out of the way and I see Damon smiling lightly at me. He has a slight mustache and he's holding the teddy bear named Malteser in his arms.

...Why does he look so gorgeous?

"I'll just leave you two love birds. Damon, feel free to visit anytime," Georgia brushes by me and whispers in a not so whisper. "He's a keeper. Charming, good looking, and can cook."

I groan because the smirk that takes over Damon's face isn't exactly innocent. I'm definitely never going to live this down.

I make sure Georgia is definitely in her room before speaking. "Don't you have work today?"

"No," he hugs the teddy closer to his chest and my heart warms at the sight. "Saturday is my free day. I'm all yours."

I try to suppress my smile at his words but it doesn't work. "Don't you have other friends you'd rather be spending the day with?"

He grins. "Yeah, but they're currently at camp. Something about basketball."

"Basketball?"

"I'm the shorty of the group," he laughs and his eyes crinkle at the edges, "And Ophelia is doing whatever nerds do in the museum so yep. You're stuck with me."

"I'm thrilled." I refuse to let him see that I'm actually happy about the fact that I'm going to have a whole day with him. But a thought hits me and suddenly, I'm not so thrilled.

"Wait. Then what am I going to eat?"

He eyes me with a twinkle in his eyes. "Have you ever tried to cook before?"

"...I'm sorry, what?"

———

It's six o'clock and Damon is wearing Georgia's favorite pink apron. I don't know why she bought it considering she can't cook but pink really is Damon's color.

I'm wearing a blue one.

"Okay, my dear assistant; we'll be making pizza and baking cupcakes. And your suhoor is going to be whatever you want."

I adjust the veil on my head. "Sounds like a plan Chef Steroid."

"That's Chef Steroid Pillow to you," he gives me a dry look and flips the tiny ponytail at the back of his head. I resist the urge to laugh.

"Whatever," I stare at the bags of flour in front of me. "Why this much flour though?"

"Because we're making food for your whole family, duh. Keep up, student."

I shake my head and get a bowl. "You're really into this role play."

"Less talk, more work."

I laugh.

(Major time skip because this involves a whole lot of laughing from me, a broken egg in Damon's beautiful hair and licking batter (time to break my fast) with Vanessa. Also, this time skip involves my dad coming back home from work to meet Damon, my father having a practical crush on Damon and overhearing Georgia and Dad talking about how many grandkids they want)

Damon and I are busy eating in the kitchen. My family members are in the living room, watching old episodes of Desperate Housewives.

I take a big bite from my slice of pizza. It's flawless and I can't help but groan in delight. "This is the sexiest pizza ever."

"I'm glad you think so," he chuckles and takes a bite out of his slice of pizza.

I nod in confirmation and we continue to eat in silence. Until I break it.

"So...your friends are into basketball?"

He nods. "Yeah, Matt and Austin practically breathe basketball. I tried playing but after the ball hit me in the face, I decided to stick to swimming."

"You swim?" my eyes widen in surprise.

"...I'm the captain of my school's swim team," he smiles softly and continues to eat. I contemplate sharing something about myself but something tells me that he knows more than he has probably bargained for.

I'm coughing, Ophelia, cough cough, hack hack.

I'm starting to wonder how much they know about me.

"So. What do you want for your suhoor?" he stands up and carries my empty plate, "I was thinking we'd have enough time to make samosas but apparently, there isn't any time."

I follow him to the dishwasher and watch as he starts to manually wash the dishes. "Uh. How about Maltesers?"

He grins and gives me a glance. "I think you must be psychic or something."

"I'm not psychic but I'm definitely something," I shrug and he laughs. He dries his hands and removes his apron.

"Okay, let me just say bye to your parents and I'll take you to buy some Maltesers and stuff," he starts walking out of the kitchen and I follow as he makes his way to the living room.

"Damon, my son—hey, that rhymes!" my father chuckles and Damon laughs along.

"Maybe it's destiny," Damon jokes but my heart still flips at the implication. Georgia nods in earnest and finally spies me standing behind him.

"Wait, are you leaving so soon?" she asks him. Her lips are pursed in confusion.

My mouth drops open in shock. It's almost nine!

"Yes ma'am. I'll come by again to visit though," Damon says and Georgia grins along with my father. I roll my eyes. My parents are definitely Damon whipped.

"Okay then. Are you showing him to the door, Paulina?"

"No. We're going out to buy Maltesers. He wants to accompany me and bring me back before he finally leaves."

Dad practically glows all the way to his receding hairline. "That's perfect. You go ahead then. Till we meet again, Damon."

"Of course, sir."

"Bye Damon," Vanessa finally speaks. Her eyes are knowing and she turns her gaze to me. "Get me some Pringles. I'll pay you back."

I nod as Damon replies, "Not a problem. No need to pay me back Vanessa."

Since when is he buying anything for anyone?

I roll my eyes as we finally make it to the door. "You've got my whole family wrapped around your index finger, ugh."

"They've got me wrapped around their fingers so it's a win-win," he laughs and I chuckle as I open the door—

—And my eyes connect with a pair of super blue eyes.

Kenneth Hall is standing on my doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers and a bucket of Maltesers. His eyes widen when he sees Damon standing behind me.

His bouquet also drops to the floor. I internally thank God that it's not the bucket full of beautiful chocolate.

It's reflex. "There you go, turning my doorstep into a garden."

I hear Damon choke. I think it's his way of stifling a laugh. "Hey, he got Maltesers. Now, all we need is another bucket and Pringles."

I laugh at the irony of it. "I know right. Let's go. I hope they have the original though. Or the spicy one."

"Barbeque?"

"Yeah, that," I brush by Kenneth who is still in shock. "Let's go, Damon. Kenneth, be a sweetheart and drop the bucket in the kitchen. Thank you."

Damon steps out. "Thanks, bro. You saved me a few more dollars." Flowers crunch under his feet and he winces, looking apologetic.

I don't give Damon time to start apologizing for being a bouquet murderer. I drag him by the arm and start to walk away. Footsteps sound behind me so I take it that he's following.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow Ken!" Damon hollers and I clamp my palm around my mouth to keep from laughing when there isn't a response.

The night sky is full of stars and I breathe in the slightly chilly air. Damon walks beside me, keeping our pace short.

"You don't have anything to do with Kenneth anymore...right?" Damon's question comes from nowhere and I glance up at him. He's looking straight ahead but I know he's waiting for my answer.

"As long as the DNA in my blood has a hint of genetically acquired brown hair? Then yes. I don't have anything to do with Kenneth Hall."

There's silence for a moment before Damon finally speaks.

"Perfect."

A/N: so many line breaks in this chapter but I hope you love it.

The story of the superheroine, Halal, is a project I'm currently working on so no, it's not for sale. Please don't steal it. Thanks.

Thanks for reading, you guys rockkkkkkkk :)