Last First Chance (Al-Ameen Family Spin-Off)

Discipline

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PRESENT DAY

"And so when you fire, you have to be careful about the pushback or you'll break your shoulder," Naina explained, pointing to the barrel of the gun.

"Okay, I'll try," I grin, stepping into the spot she was just in. Naina was helping me get my firearms license so I could get some field training as soon as possible. I had to pass at least the basic requirements to be able to join the intelligence team.

"Keep your legs shoulder-width apart," Naina taps my knee with her leg. I take a step apart, looking to her for confirmation.

She is about to say something but her phone rings. I see Armaan's name on the screen.

"Hasan!" she yells to the other side of the shooting range. I don't know why he was here at the same time as us, but apparently they both booked their shooting practices to happen at the same time every week, along with some other members of their team. Team bonding she had called it. "Can you help her get her stance right, I have to take this," she doesn't wait for him to answer before leaving the room.

"One more inch," he says, looking at my feet. "Work with the lines of your shoulders."

I do as he says silently. He nods in affirmation when I am in the correct position.

"Relax your shoulders. Breath from your gut, and aim," he commands. Close, but I still miss the mark by a bit.

"Try again," he orders.

"This would be a lot easier if you stood there instead as my target," I snark over my shoulder. He smirks slightly before looking back at the target. I follow his instructions and aim. This time I get to the edge of the bullseye.

"Almost there. You need to get at eye level with the gun," he comes to stand behind me. I feel him bend lower so that our eyes are at the same height. Then he stretches his arm out, hovering over my shoulder without actually touching me. His arm points towards the center of the bullseye.

"See, you're off by just a hair. Move a little bit to the left."

His voice is low, smooth. My breath hitches in my throat.

"Pull," he whispers and I do. A clean shot right in the chest of the dummy.

I turn to see him over my shoulder, our noses almost brushing against one another. He straightens, a small smile lingering on his face.

"Good job," he offers, leaning against the glass.

"Thanks," I smile, wringing my fingers together.

I hated how good he looked and how much of an effect is unwillingly had on me. Gone was the lanky, awkward boy I knew. The sweater vests were still there, but now they were over toned biceps and muscles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying to look anywhere but at him but I notice him starting at my anklet. I realized I was tapping my foot like a maniac, probably annoying him with the sound of the bell on my anklet.

"Nice!" Naina says, walking back into the room, breaking us out of our bubble. "You're a better teacher than me Hasan."

"Sometimes a little discipline is necessary," he turns to me with a slight raise to his eyebrows, challenging me to get snarky again.

It's like he doesn't know me at all.

I tilt my head, batting my eyes innocently. "Am I being a bad student Mr. Rizvi?"

Naina guffaws, going over to change the sheet of paper stuck to the dummy I was practicing on. "You guys are too much."

Hasan's jaw tenses but he walks away without another word.