Osman was reclined back in his seat and had taken to staring out the window watching as it rained over the grounds when he heard his name called with the tone indicating it had been called already several times.
"Osman? Osman!"
He lazily let his head follow the direction of the voice and discovered who it belonged to. It was Lea. He knew it was Lea because she was seated next to Richard, and he knew Richard so he knew that his fiancée's name was Lea, and so the annoying voice calling him must have of course have been Lea.
"Yes," he said, forcing a polite smile. He had no idea what was wrong with him. He never behaved so rudely. Perhaps it was because he was bored and wanted to start something. Perhaps it was because he was miserable and wanted to share his misery with his surrounding company.
Lea didn't seem to mind, or perhaps like everyone else she hadn't noticed, it was of course Osman, how could he of all people be rude.
"Tell us a story!" drawled Conway who was impolitely sprawled in his seat gazing up at the ceiling. "You've been chosen and, and now we demand it of you," he curtly finished.
Osman looked around the room, only his eyes moving to take in the scene; Richard rolling Lea's hair in curls on his finger, adorable he thought dryly, Lea looking intently at him, disconcerting, didn't she have anything else to do, Conway still as he was before, Marco staring at his drink and tapping his leg, what was he always thinking about? He swallowed the bile of repulsiveness that had forced its way up. Was it possible to both like and despise one's friends?
Feeling their eyes patiently on him, he racked his head for a story. Sometimes it was best just to go along with the crowd. He took a final look around the room deciding to settle on his version of Jack and The Beanstalk, but paused as he had a wildly amusing idea settled in. Why doesn't he tell his own story? They'd never put it together, no he thought a placid smile on his face, they'd never. And neither would you, he mentally chided himself, but that wasn't the point. He adjusted his seat, so he was facing everyone, and drew a long breath and began.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Charades
Historical FictionOsman has a secret. A secret he's kept a mystery. A mystery that is unsolvable, or it was until that night. Meera, a History student with a passion for poetry and all things beautiful never dreamed that someone would catch her eye save for Marco, h...
