Never Kiss Your Best Friend

Chapter 3

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Aisha's pov

Hmm... I wonder how melodious my dream is.

This rock is so cold, and the fairy angel with wine-coloured wings and blue skin has a guitar in her hands which sounds like a piano. Even though my eyes are heavy I can see the face, it looked like my mother, but why was she shouting at me?

Why was she singing in Taylor Swift's voice?

Wait! Is this a dream?

My eyes shot wide open, the blazing sun peeking through the window to shine directly at my face. The drool dripping on the coldness of the floor, the traffic outside at its full peak with honking and chitter-chatter of people. The same Taylor Swift music boomed from the centre table, where my phone was illuminated with light, buzzing on the wood with vibrations from the sound. I pushed myself up and...

"Shit! Fuck!" I watched Nicholas's name flashing on the screen and the time at the left corner of my phone screen. 9:30 Am. Damn, I never reached this late to my work. The latest I reached was 3 minutes 17 seconds, and that was an all-time high in my 3 years of service.

I swiped the green light, tucking the phone close to my ear. "Hello? I am so sorry, Nicholas. I will be there as soon as I can. I am just so sorry."

"What the fuck? Are you fine or not? Don't you ever do this to me and dad ever again, you dumb shit? You scared us to death, I was restless and calling you for an hour now. If you were not to pick up this call I had to come to your apartment."

"I know. I am sorry, it's just I had a late night so I slept late. I will be there at work, very soon."

"You better." He said before hanging up the call.

I rushed to my bedroom, picking up whatever came to my hands and taking the fastest shower. I think I should call Guinness world records to check my time and give me the title. No. I couldn't risk revealing my identity. Let's keep it with me, I might share it with Nichole later in the afternoon.

Without having breakfast, I closed the apartment door, rolling the keys in my index finger as I whistled and walked towards the busy streets of Paris. I sighed as I heard the audible gurgling voice from my stomach.

"Hey? Black shirt." Someone shouted behind my back.

What a chaotic day with people shouting to call someone, and the hell nobody was listening to that voice. If it was me who this manly voice called, a voice dripping with heaviness and bass, I would have looked back in a second. I shook my head and concentrated not to stumble my legs between the lines of the stone beneath my feet. Should I get myself checked for OCD? Nah! NO! Everybody does that, and I am probably grumpy with no food in my body.

"Hey, long hair? Turn around." The same voice called.

He had been calling a girl, invading the peace of everyone's mornings. I felt a tap on my shoulder and out of instinct from the past, I flinched. My shoulders fell away as I took two steps back and looked behind to see one of the most handsome men in my life.

Damn the nations for letting me hold my gaze at the face crafted and drawn by the god himself. The forehead formed a relaxing flat surface with a 'v' hairline. The hair fell, covering the right side of his forehead, followed by the deep almond-shaped eyes with a light honey-brown shade. The heart-shaped, full pink lips curving upwards in a smile are worth millions for a magazine front page. The square face rested itself on a long neck with a sharp jaw.

I blinked.

"Me?"

"Yes, you." He said, "I was calling you for so long but you didn't listen."