Crooked Painting

Ch 2

"You're a good driver!" She applauded when she first sat with him in his car.

He offered her a ride when he saw her frail retreating figure, stuffed with all the equipment of her studio class. She was clutching a myriad of sketchbooks to her chest, bigger than her torso as half of her face was covered by them. Carrying bags full of paint containers that were dangling on each side of her wrists followed by a black backpack. From a distance, only her legs can be seen to recognize her as a person. Sighing she considered him an angel, came for a wounded soldier. Her cheeks puffed up as he saw her eyes vanished when she gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yeah, that's what she said," He murmured loud enough for her to listen even when he knew it was absurd and she would be fuming with anger if she would be able to process it.

"Yeah, you drive fast but carefully unlike me," she mumbled, her eyes too focused scratching off the paint from her slender fingers, without noticing the pun.

"Right? That's what I am saying," He giggled, hoping this time she would catch up, but she went silent, glancing out from the car window, hands still working in her lap, scraping off little fragments of paint that were left on her nails.

"Wh-what?!!" She widened her eyes and craned her neck towards the man beside her after a few seconds and he burst into fits of laughter. A flush of red crawled upon her cheeks when her mind finally comprehended the ludicrous, corny joke.

"You should keep your innocence," He managed to say between the laughter, and she scrunched her nose throwing a disgustful look.

"Dare to say that stuff again and I will shove your head into this steering wheel," She yelled pointing a finger towards him and his laughter intensified whispering a little sorry afterwards.

A smile crawled upon his lips, reminiscing the memories and he put a little more pressure on the speed paddle. The distance seemed to be longer now when he decided to take few strides towards someone after years of being the one who was chased. A spark of reading someone thoroughly after decades of being discovered by others. He sighed audibly as he caressed his bottom lip with his left index finger, still contemplating over his ineffable decisions. Exhaling a long breath for the hundredth time he deferred the irritable thoughts, persuading once more to bestow him another day.

Parking the car, he rushed towards the airport entrance hoping to find her there.

Honouring his fortune for the umpteenth amount of time, he huffed out all the frustrations that were piling upon his heart as he saw her treading towards the exit. Struggling with the luggage she looked exhausted yet stunning in her casual white t-shirt tugged in blue jeans that were folded from the nooks, exposing the slight skin of her ankles, accompanied by her usual white canvas shoes, with a black leather jacket hanging on her forearm. Her long brunette hairs were carelessly dangling upon her shoulders, trying their best to slip forward as she slightly bent over to adjust the bags.

She was the only girl in his life that he cannot confound her with even in a huge crowd. She has her aura of personality which he can recognise in thousands of people. That's how he claimed his affinity with her to his soon-to-be sister-in-law.

"Is she just your friend?" Nina asked raising her eyebrows in suspicion.

"Uh-h- Of course yeah!" He was caught off-guard when he stuttered, unable to even understand his own feelings. He provided her with a dubious assurance, lowering his face to compile his polaroids while a faint, transient smile emerged on his brooding face.

"Umhm!" Nina just smiled, solely noticing his strange, unusual behaviour which was not normal for a guy like him. A guy who does not stumble on his words even when talking about his voluptuous desires. A guy who is a sucker for glamourous bodies and looks. A guy who does not even try to hide the covetous gleam in his eyes when he covers his figurative shoots. But he stammers on his words and thoughts whenever someone brought her name up. He felt the tensity drew upon his nerves when he couldn't provide any logical reason for his actions. He felt defenceless before his sanity.