His HOPE

Chapter 11

Hope

"So you're telling me, Nicholas Geraldo, the great writer of all times, the God of romantic novels, is going to be here to launch his new book?" My eyes widened and I looked at Watson with utter shock while he was getting ready for his today's tour.

After forcing my brain for hours to remember that little boy I saw in my dream, I gave up when my head started aching terribly.

I left the store to Elise and came back to my apartment only to find out that I was out of painkillers.

Thus, I came down right away to ask Watson for aspirin and in the process got to know the unbelievable news.

Nicholas Geraldo. Is. Here!

Now I understand why there were so many customers in my bookstore today. Apparently, people were buying their favorites of Nicholas Geraldo to try their luck for his autograph.

And why not? He is the one who makes the dreams of hopeless romantic novel lovers come true with his out-of-the-world storylines.

Personally, he is my favorite writer too.

I've read all of his work, imagined and visualized myself in those scenarios, and even know some of his lines by heart.

Whether those scenarios come to reality or not, I'm still delighted to read and imagine them.

However, I wish I could meet and thank the person personally who has helped me immensely in my sleepless nights and long days.

His writing has always been my escape to reality. It has accompanied me like a shining star and helped me embrace my fantasies and desires like a true friend.

Sighing in defeat, I looked at Watson, who was already eyeing me with sympathy.

"Yes, Hope. Your favorite, Nicholas Geraldo is coming to the art gallery where I'm scheduled today." He rubbed his neck guiltily after fixing his camel-brown shirt and tucking it inside his beige-colored pants.

His brown eyes were shining beautifully under the reflection of the same-colored shirt. Making him more breathtaking than usual.

"Brown color looks really good on you." I smiled at him before turning around with a sad sigh to go into my room and grieve about the fact that I still couldn't get out of this house and was again going to miss one more beautiful opportunity to do something that actually made me happy.

"Hope, wait." Watson's voice stopped me in my tracks and I turned around to look at him questioningly.

"Yes?"

"You really want to meet him, don't you?" He licked his lips before walking towards me at the door of his bedroom.

I looked down in order to avoid his sympathetic look before moving my eyes to his apartment to look and fix my glance at anything but him.

Unlike his personality, Watson's studio is a bit plain and blend, with just necessary items and household stuff.

His room is of midnight blue color, with a round bed in the middle, a wooden wardrobe, shelf, mirror, and a big window on the wall.

He doesn't like decorating his place with accessories but after my constant bugging, he recently let me decorate his place with a beige chaise lounge sofa and small pots at every corner to blow life into his soulless place.

However, his kitchen is far better than mine because clearly, he loves to cook and doesn't leave a chance to buy new items for it every now and then.

"Hope? Look at me." His soft voice ruined my attempt to distract myself with his apartment and I sighed before looking at him.