Kismet | ENGLOT

Chapter 9

Third Person POV:

Engfa and Charlotte stood locked in a silent standoff under the pale glow of the moon, the chill of the night wrapping around them like an unseen shroud. Shadows danced between the headstones, each one casting eerie silhouettes that flickered in the cold breeze. With deliberate steps, Engfa ventured toward Charlotte, a mixture of apprehension and intrigue flickering in her eyes. She halted, a mere two feet separating them, the tension palpable in the air. "What are you doing wandering through this cemetery at such an ungodly hour?" Engfa asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Charlotte, her expression unreadable, pivoted toward the cemetery entrance. She paused for the briefest moment, glancing back at Engfa, whose gaze followed her intently. With a swift motion, Charlotte flicked on her flashlight, the beam slicing through the darkness and landing squarely on Engfa's face.

Engfa recoiled instinctively, squinting as she shielded her eyes with her hand. A playful smirk stretched across Charlotte's lips, the satisfaction of retaliating evident in her demeanor. "Want to come and see?" she teased, her voice lilting as she began to walk deeper into the cemetery, the flashlight bobbing like a beacon in the night.

A swell of uncertainty washed over Engfa, but curiosity propelled her forward. She dashed to catch up, her heart racing with both excitement and apprehension. "Is this one of your strange hobbies? Befriending ghosts? Or are you here digging up graves in search of treasure?" she quipped, trying to mask her nerves with humor.

Charlotte halted abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face Engfa. Their faces were drawing perilously close, mere inches apart. "Since when are you interested in my pursuits? You just happen to show up here—are you stalking me?" Charlotte challenged, her tone sharp yet playful. The tension between them thickened like fog on the cool night air.

Engfa's POV:

I froze in place, my thoughts swirling in a fog that made it nearly impossible to muster a coherent response. As the silence stretched between us, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk, a triumphant gleam dancing in her eyes as she turned and continued her leisurely stroll.

How I yearned to wipe that smugness from her face. Before I knew it, my feet were moving, instinctively trailing her every step. I should have turned back to my car, ended this awkward encounter, and called it a night. Yet here I was, still determined to keep pace with her.

Without warning, she slipped into a shadowy mausoleum, and I hesitated at the threshold, grappling with my resolve. Should I follow her into the dim interior, or retreat to the safety of the parking lot? Just as I steeled myself to take the plunge, she emerged, a gleaming telescope cradled in her hands.

I stood transfixed, watching as she deftly set it up under the vast expanse of the night sky. Once she finished, she turned to me, her voice dripping with playful challenge. "So, did I disappoint you?"

Honestly, I never would have anticipated that her reason for being here was to indulge in stargazing, her passion shining as brightly as the stars above.

With each passing moment, my intrigue for her deepened, a magnetic pull that I couldn't shake. A strange sensation fluttered in my chest, unfamiliar yet exhilarating, like the first light of dawn breaking through an overcast sky. Why am I so captivated by her every move? I pondered silently, searching for clarity. After what felt like an eternity, I finally managed to gather my thoughts and respond, "You know, you could have chosen a less unsettling location for this, right?" I aimed for an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the tumult of emotions swirling inside me.

"Maybe, but I have my reasons for doing this here," she said, her voice steady and enigmatic. Her movements were graceful, almost like a dancer, and with every step she took, her dark hair swayed effortlessly, catching the light and framing her face. It struck me how I couldn't pinpoint the moment I began to see her in this new way.

I had known Charlotte Austin for years—well, at least I thought I had. We had shared countless classrooms since my return to school after my parents' divorce, yet somehow, it felt like we were simply coexisting in parallel. I had never considered her more than a passing figure in my life, an acquaintance at best. But in the last few weeks, everything had shifted. It was as if a curtain had been drawn back, revealing a vibrant tapestry of her personality that I had been blind to until now. Suddenly, my curiosity about her was insatiable, and I found myself longing to peel back the layers and truly understand the girl who had always been just a stranger.

"And what reason would that be?" my curiosity getting the better of me again. She smiled mischievously then said, "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

That smile—her perfect smile—makes me mentally stop myself from giving her compliments. This is not good for me, and she is not good for me.

Before we knew it, it was almost 3 am. We were so caught up in our playful banter and she even showed me a glimpse of a meteor shower using her telescope.

"We should get going" Charlotte said as she placed her telescope back into the mausoleum.

The walk back to my car was enveloped in an almost tangible silence, heavy and expectant. It felt as if we were both measuring our thoughts, like hesitant dancers waiting for the music to cue their movements. I halted just before opening the door, the soft glow of the streetlamp casting a warm light on us. She took a step toward her house, but I reached out, calling after her, "It's not safe for you to walk at this hour. Come on, I'll drop you home."

Her gaze flicked from my face to the hand that was unwittingly resting on her wrist. The realization hit me like a bell tolling—what had I done? I quickly released her, feeling a surge of embarrassment. "It's okay; I don't live far from here," she replied, her voice soft, almost a whisper, and tinged with shyness.

I ran my fingers through my hair, a gesture of growing impatience and concern. "I can't just let you walk alone. If you really don't want to ride with me, then I'll walk with you."

When she saw the determination in my expression, a flicker of reluctant acceptance crossed her face. With a brief sigh, she nodded and slowly made her way toward my car, the night air swirling around us.

I opened the passenger door for her. When I settled into my seat and was about to drive, I realized she didn't have her seatbelt on.

I leaned closer to grab her seatbelt. Our faces became close, maybe too close that I could feel her breath hitch. She looked at me, clearly surprised by my gesture. We looked at each other's eyes for a few seconds. Then my eyes quickly glanced at her lips and then back to her. I tried to lean closer. Our lips were now just an inch away.

Before I gave in to my desires, Charlotte moved her head away and cleared her throat. I snapped back to reality. I buckled her seatbelt, leaned back in my seat and then started the car.

We pulled into Charlotte's driveway, the silence heavy and awkwardly stretching between us. The few minutes of the drive felt like an eternity, with each passing second amplifying the tension in the car.

As she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, I noticed the way the streetlights cast soft shadows on her face, highlighting the uncertainty in her eyes. She glanced back at me, a fleeting moment of connection amidst the silence, and said, "Let's meet tomorrow. I'll help you with your lines as promised. I'll text you when I'm home. Thank you for dropping me off, Miss Waraha."

There was a sincerity in her voice that lingered even after she closed the door, cutting off any chance for a reply. I remained in the car, watching her walk away, her silhouette merging with the dimly lit surroundings until she vanished from view.

Engfa Waraha, you've stepped into deep waters now...