Chased by a Gentleman

Chapter 18

❝But he will just pretend that those words from her had a touch of worry.❞

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"What else do you need?" Miles questioned as he switched his phone to his right hand.

"That's all? Alright, I'm hanging up. Bye." He tucked his phone away in his pocket and concentrated on the beverages in front of him.

"Hi, Miles," An unfamiliar voice called. He turned around and noticed a face that was recognizable, but whose owner his mind couldn't place. He has definitely seen this person before, yet he couldn't name this certain person.

"Uhm, hi."

"We're from the same major," She reminded, obviously noticing his confusion written all over his face.

"Right."

"What are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for this drink. It's not a well-known brand so I'm having trouble finding it for my friend," He explained as he showed the picture of the drink with the use of his phone.

"You're right, I'm also not familiar." The unnamed person helped scan the fridges to look for the drink.

"Oh, is this it?" She grabbed a bottle with similar packaging.

"Yeah, it is. Thank you." Miles took a few bottles and placed them inside his basket. His eyes shifted to the convex mirror and noticed someone he can positively identify.

"Eloise." His palms started to sweat profusely the moment their eyes met.

"Hi." Her gaze transferred to the girl beside him.

"I'm Izzy," The unfamiliar girl simply introduced herself, but Eloise felt like the introduction was too short. Eloise had too many questions.

"Are you his friend?" Izzy questioned.

"Yeah."

____

Eloise threw the bag full of snacks to the table before plopping down on her bed. She questioned Izzy's whole identity. Just who was she? Was she always close to him? Does she know him longer than she knew him?

"Maybe it was just someone from his major?" 

Eloise got up from her bed to pick up her laptop that was placed on the table. She returned to her bed and placed some pillows to protect her head from the hard headboard. She settled comfortably before turning on her computer.

"Maybe I should start studying for finals." 

It has been a couple of minutes and those minutes consisted of her reading the text on her computer without comprehending them. "This won't do."

Eloise got up from her bed and transferred to her desk. Being comfortable won't do the job. Her hands were busy typing and writing. But a part of her was still distracted. 

She shut her laptop out of frustration. "Just who is this Izzy!" She took a deep breath before opening her computer once again.

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Brahms closed the door to his car and leaned against the headrest of his seat. The heat engulfing the vehicle was starting to be more noticeable. Brahms decided to sit in the dark while keeping his eyes closed, although feeling warm because of the unopened engine. 

He finally couldn't resist the warmth and turned on the air conditioner. He grabs the pack of mints inside the glove compartment and popped a couple in his mouth.

He left the parking lot and went straight home. He was surprised that most of his colleagues were longing for a time at home. He was unable to feel the excitement. Who does he go home to? His pet fish?

Sometimes, he wished for a trip to his home with thrill. He wanted to have something to look forward to when he gets home. But his wish hasn't come true, yet.

He pulled over to his garage and instead of turning off the engine, he chose to turn on his vehicle's lights. He picked up his phone which was dangerously placed on the passenger seat. Brahms opened his contacts and looked for his mother's contact profile. Although he hesitated, he eventually dialed her number. He pressed his phone against his ear. After a few rings, she managed to pick up.

"Brahms, you called."

"Just wanted to check how you're doing."

"I'm fine. By the way, you told me that you will send me a couple of pounds by the end of the month. Is that still valid?" Brahms bitterly smiled to himself. He knew it.

"Ah yes. I didn't have the time to do it. Tomorrow, definitely."

"Isn't it late there? Hang up the phone and get some rest. I'm getting ready to go out."

"Mhm. Bye, love you."

"Bye."

He wanted to hear his mother's voice. But every time he ends the call, there was never a moment that he wanted to burst into tears. How about a how are you from her? Or maybe I love you? But at least she told him to get some rest. But he was aware that she only stated that to cut the call short. But he will just pretend that those words from her had a touch of worry.