Would You Mind? ✓

WYM? 07

Saturday came. It was already past seven in the evening, and Uno couldn't dismiss himself still from the traffic he got himself jammed in the Philippines' new EDSA--Bacoor, Cavite. For how many times, he--who was in a state of agitation due to his possible failure of not keeping his words to Dos--threw glances on his watch.

"I'd be home on or before eight in the evening. I just have to attend an ocular visit and a graduation talk in our Hotel Iglesias in Tagaytay," told by him to Dos when he saw her frown upon seeing him formally dressed though it was a no workday.

"Why don't you just tag me with you, and instead of having a movie marathon, let's just enjoy the beauty of Tagaytay?" It was a suggestion worth reconsidering, had he possessed several eyes to look after her.

Unfortunately, he only has two eyes. One couldn't go looking at his supposed job, and the other couldn't go watching Dos. "I can't bring you with me because I wouldn't be able to look after you. So, just wait here. Don't go anywhere. I'd be back without you knowing. Okay?"

She pouted. "Do I look like a five-year-old kid who needs a minder--"

"Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes, Dos. So, it's a no, and there's no way for you to change my mind."

"Please...pretty Uno..."

He laughed. "Nah. Not again, not today. I should get going. Follow me and lock the door."

And now he was swallowing his own words.

Damn! I promised her I'd be home by eight, he angrily thought, slamming his fists on the steering wheel.

A lot may consider that as a no biggie, but to Uno, who takes promises as requisite to one's joy and not just a mere word to make someone feel better or give someone something to look forward to, it would always be a big deal. Be that as a biggie, he decided to phone Dos, but to his dismay, she wasn't answering his calls. Her phone just kept on ringing; it handily added fuel to his rage.

"Why is she not picking up?!"

Few minutes passed, he stopped contacting her. "Should you be answering your phone instead of ignoring me, then you would've known that I'm stuck in this freaking traffic, and you would've also known I'm itching to come home and keep my promise!" he ranted as if Dos would hear him.

But then, he knew he couldn't be angry, for it wouldn't do a thing or two to solve his problem. That said, he forced himself to calm. He tried playing music on the radio till he began swaying his head along with its rhythm, till his rage subsided, and till he unknowingly arrived in Manila an hour and a half later.

He popped by at 7/11 to buy chips, a gallon of his favorite pistachio ice cream, and a few bottles of beer before heading home.

"It's past ten in the evening, Nikolai. Didn't you tell me you'd be here on or before eight for our movie marathon? Are you taking me for nothing?" A 'warm' welcome coming from Dos was heard by Uno the moment he swung the door open.

He laid glance on a cross-armed, crimson-faced, and monstrous-looking Dos, who was standing approximately two meters away from him.

"I was calling you--"

"You called for only five times. Not enough to spell out, Sorry, Dos, I'd be late for an hour or two."

Her remarks somehow landed weird to Uno, for she sounded like a nagging girlfriend. She isn't, is she?

"Oh...kay? I'm...I'm sorry?" he mumbled, unable to search for the correct response to throw and the right way to react.

She clicked her tongue, stomped her feet on the ground, and vanished from his sight.

Ghad, I have no time to ingratiate myself with friendly overtures just to woo this childish woman, the tired Uno told himself as he watched her slump on the couch with her lips pouting and arms still folded over her chest. He had a long day. The best thing for him to loosen up was to enjoy some leisure. Yet how could he, if he thought wooing her was compelling as he knew there was no need for that? Be that as it may, he chose to deal with it in the way he knew.

He went to his room to get changed. Matapos niyang magbihis, nagpunta na siya sa living room dala-dala ang mga pinamili niya. He then played 'She's Dating The Gangster' of KathNiel on Netflix and sat beside the outbursting Dos.

Through his peripheral vision, he could see the unvarying wry on Dos' face.

Sighing, he paused the movie and tilted his body to face her. Now, what am I going to do? How do people say sorry to childish, immature people like this woman? Should I pat her on her head? Hug her? Put my arm around her shoulder?

"If you don't want to watch, then we might as well head to our rooms and sleep. I'm exhausted anyway," he said after expelling a losing-patience breath.

Ghad, Uno, that was by far the worst approach to ever give.

The face she was pulling intensified. Her crossed arms went higher that they reached the above portion of her breasts.

The eff. The immaturity in this woman is getting into my frigging nerves.

"Why do I feel like I'm lodging a five-year-old kid?" He turned off the television, stood from his seat, and threw the remote harshly from where he was seated earlier. "You're nineteen, aren't you? So why the hell are you pulling such behavior so close to a spoiled, all wanting, egocentric child? Don't you know how to act your age, Samara?"

Samara. He remembered how she reacted when his father once called her by her first name. He thought maybe calling her by it would somehow knock some sense in the adult that she is.

She lifted her head to look at him with distaste. He saw tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Don't call me that," she calmly demanded, but disgust was evident in her voice as she wiped her tears off with the back of her hand.

"That's just a name, for pete's sake! How immature could you be?!"

"I said...don't...call me...that!" she yelled, her voice shaking, so were her hands.

"Then stop acting like a brat!"

"And stop telling me how am I supposed to act!" She rose to her feet and slammed a throw pillow on the floor.

"You don't give me that attitude 'cause you're living within my boundaries, Samara. So, whatever I say, whatever I ask you to do, you must comply," he angrily retorted, pointing a finger at Dos, with which she slapped.

Either she slapped it because it was a bold gesture no one should ever do to anyone, or she solely lost her temper that she tickled the violence in her.

"You people are so good at telling someone how they are supposed to act when you yourselves don't even know where they're coming from!" Her tears kept on rushing down her face. "You're telling us to act our age?" She laughed bitterly. "How 'bout we tell you to open your eyes, wide enough, for you to see what's in it in every fucking angle of ours which you people didn't even lay an eye at?"

He chuckled in derision. "Oh, come on, Samara. You and your pesky little excuses just to whitewash your minimally furnished manners. Will you think of a better excuse next time? That's kind of lame, I can tell you."

Dos' mouth gaped open for seconds. A hint of surprise from Uno's indifference was visible through the way she blinked her eyes with disbelief. Yet Uno didn't care to budge. He maintained his cool throughout the moment Dos fixed her gaze on him.

"I want a separate condo unit from you," Dos sobbed, shoulders dropped and head looking down on her curled toes.

"Great!" Uno quipped to his heart's content. "You are doing me a favor with that, Samara. I'd lay a hand on that matter early tomorrow morning."