The Best Match

Chapter 2: The Proposal

With a high-pitched song, I woke up from my numbing slumber. I blinked into the ceiling for a couple of seconds, my ears getting used to the indi pop and I sat up, cracking my neck side by side to work the knots out. 

Siya's speakers were blaring off the music but I didn't object, only because it played a track I was also fond of. She had this bizarre habit of bathing with music on. I had no idea what she did under the shower; whether she danced or sang along, or just did anything freaky like she was. 

I wore my flip-flops and padded to the window. Humming the tune, I dragged the blinds apart and inhaled a sharp breath of morning whiff. Filled with lavender and mist, it chilled the lethargy in me, making me feel relaxed and content. 

I walked back to retrieve my yoga mat from under the bed and pulled off the suit over my head, peeling it all the way out. I breathed a deep drag of air as my torso felt free and my lungs expanded, giving a bounce to my chest despite the cotton brazier I wore.

I shucked my pants off and sat on the mat in underwear. I folded my legs and sat on the heels of my feet, assuming the classic pose of yogasan. I raised my hands straight overhead and started my power yoga. The habit instilled in me by my granny. I used to follow her in early morning yoga classes and later on, I grew on it.

Eighteen years after her death, I still felt connected to her whenever I did yog. A couple of minutes later, the wet feet sloshed against the floor and the  music switched off. Replacing the tune with a musical hum, Siya sauntered in the room, finding her dress from the cupboard to brush her hair in the dresser. 

“What were you saying last night?” I interrupted her merriment, getting up from the mat and folding it. She spun to me with a 'Huh?'

I rolled my eyes as I stretched my hand behind my head and bent side by side to release the spasms, “The news! You said you had something to tell me.”

“Ah, that!” Recognition flashed across her face and she wore a grin. “I said that. Yep!”

“So?” I prompted, tapping my foot anxiously and she gave me a disgusted look. “Get fresh first.”

“Cut the crap!” I scowled darkly at her and she slumped her shoulders, “Okay. If you insist, I'll tell you but I want to place my demands first.”

“Of course,” I scoffed, sitting on the edge of my bed. “How much this time?”

“Not more than a couple of thousands.” 

“I'm not giving a penny. Besides, your info are mainly gossip. Why would I pay you to listen to gossip?” I shrugged my shoulders, getting up and she stopped me. “Yeah, you're right. Why would you pay me to listen to gossip which is directly going to affect you?”

I halted over the bathroom’s door and nipped my lip, turning to frown at her. “I didn't understand.”

“Well, you will once mom will tell you after a deliberation with dad.” She said with a smirk and turned to brush her hair. I gaped at her in anxiety. 

Despite the outright extortion, she had saved me from many unpleasant situations, so the demands would definitely be worth the news, but I wasn't an idiot to give her thousands for that. 

She was still a minor for mankind's sake and she had about a couple of millions already in her account courtesy of my offerings. 

‘I guess she's paving her way to university with this fund you stupidly fork out for her.’ An evil, cranky voice in my head chipped. I huffed annoyingly at it. Every evil thought in my mind was its popup idea. It’s that nagging voice of conscience that doesn’t let you breathe without doubting your diabolism. For its merits, I call it ‘ESV’.