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"Alright, Cecile, I'm going for a run," I yelled to nowhere particular in the largely built house, hearing my voice echo back the same thing in reply. I hope that she heard me; whether or not she had was up to the house to decide.
The pitter-patter of sock-covered footsteps could be heard racing down the smoothly polished, wooden steps. Once again, was that Cecile? Well, she wasn't wearing her heels, so I guess we'll never know.
"Wait, wait, wait," Cecile called out as she came closer and closer to the bottom of the stairs.
Seconds later, and her face now peaked out from behind the dull, white wall covering the staircase, showing her long, green hair in a rather messy bun, framing her big, purple eyes.
"Where are you going? When will you be back?" Cecile asked, "We need to go pretty soon, John," she said, slightly pressingly.
I sighed and lazed my head to rest on the shoulder below covered by the thick strap of my black tank top. "I'm just going for a jog to the park; I haven't been there in a while for . . . obvious reasons."
Cecile wandered down to the middle of the showing stairs, her plain grey t-shirt, black shorts, and short ankle socks now insight.
She leaned the bare elbows of hers onto the white, wooden rail that matched with the stairs. "Okay. Just don't take too long, John. You don't wanna be late for this meeting, too. We already haven't made the best impression, on them . . . not that you won't get the job anyway."
I rolled my golden eyes at her strictness and fairly insulting words. "Yeah, yeah. There are almost three hours before we have to go anywhere, Cecile. If you want me to stay, just say so."
She looked me in the eyes and started to pout, the top of her right foot reaching over to scratch an apparent itch on her left. It were as if the mask she wore wasn't even here anymore—as if she had thrown it away into the vast expansive of the house somewhere.
The girl—suddenly quiet—muttered something barely audible to my ears.
I cupped my hand on the side of my head in a bit of a teasing manner. "What was that?" I asked, finding it quite entertaining for her to show such embarrassment.
She sighed and tucked an extra lock of green hair loosely behind her ear. "I-I want you . . . to stay here," my normally so confident agent said, showing utter intimidation. "If you could. Please . . . John . . . I'm asking as your agent."
"We never really talk about personal stuff a-and there's a movie I want to watch with you," she continued.
I snorted before full out bursting into laughter at the sight of her soft-girl façade, finding her personality 360° quite an amusing thing to watch. Imagine of you had just seen a shark put on a bow and a blush and ask someone for some affection.
