Ignited Petals

⊹⊱ 08| I'm not your boss ⊰⊹

Half an hour had passed when Oye came out of the fairly spacious bedroom, wearing an oversized t-shirt and black shorts. She had secured the shorts in place using a rubber band. She limped slowly out of his room, holding onto her waist, and heading towards what was supposed to be her bedroom. She opened the door and looked around, absorbing the cream color scheme. The room appeared very clean even though it looked like no one had used it in a long time.

She narrowed her eyes when she noticed the clean blades of the ceiling fan.

"Oh, he's a neat freak...."

Her mind strayed to the girls as she remembered Zariah's laziness when it came to cleaning despite being the eldest among them. She sat on the bed for a while, thinking about whether or not to hide the burner phone in her hands from him. But when a nice aroma hit her nostrils, she stood up to check on what the house owner was making.

When she arrived at the sitting room, she noticed he had placed a tray of food on the single-chaired dining table. She smiled happily at the food, but when she heard his footsteps get closer to the sitting room, she quickly concealed her excitement.

"Is this for me?"

"Yes."

She nodded and watched as he proceeded to sit with his food tray in his hands. Her eyes darted from the dining table to him. She sat down slowly, picked up the spoon, and started eating without raising her head to look at the TV.

"This is so good," she moaned between her swallowing.

"You're welcome," he said, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

She continued to eat, barely breathing between each spoon, and he turned to look at her before shaking his head.

'She must have suffered a lot to treat food this way,'

When she finished her food, she raised her head and smiled happily at him. Israel, noticing eyes on him, looked back toward her.

"Thank you, sir," she said shyly, looking away from him.

Israel nodded at her before turning to the football match he was watching.

'So he won't even tell me to stop using 'sir' for him? Forget him trusting me; we'll never get married at this rate!'

When she finished eating, she took her plates to the kitchen to wash them just after he finished cleaning his plates as well.

By the time they both returned to the sitting room, the power supply was interrupted. Ewa sat down on the couch, watching him as he moved around the room blindly, probably searching for a lamp. He eventually found one and placed it on the center table. The light from the torch illuminated her features, and he found it hard to avert his gaze from her face.

Although he didn't want to admit it, she was beautiful, and her troubled demeanor only made her seem mysterious. The more he looked at her, the more he felt like he had known her all his life, yet he knew nothing about her. It was at this moment that he realized he had several questions to ask, not just her but himself. Why did he bring a stranger into his home? He hardly invited anyone over, not even his sister or his childhood friend. He looked downward, contemplating what to start with.

"Is something wrong?" Oye asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"The clothes, you took my favorite pair of shorts."

"Ermm, I'm sorry. I didn't know; I'll return it tomorrow."

Silence hung in the air, heavy. He didn't understand this girl one bit. One minute she was acting tough, the next minute she was being docile. He recalled the way she had teased him in the kitchen.