Her toxic trait? She could have her heart ripped out of her own flesh, sliced up and shoved down her throat - but she'd still be there for you if you needed her.
And him? He runs away from your loving when it gets too deep, scared to love you back c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Friday 26th October: 12:55 PM
JCR Global Buffet, Tottenham, North London
* *
"A girl like you shouldn't be out ere' alone, you get me?" He muttered with another sly smile, causing me to smirk down at the Reebok's which graced my feet.
The boy - who's name I was yet to know - had not only a very smooth caramel toned skin complexion, but an infectious crooked smile. If you saw him smiling? You'd just feel the sudden urge to smile too, it was really that infectious. And I hated it. Boys such as himself didn't need to see what they could do to me.
"Actually," I rolled my eyes, that smile still on my face. "No girl should be out ere' alone, thank you very much."
With that, I took a step forward, wanting to get away from him.
"Mind me." He said in a shockingly sexy and sensual sort of voice as he grabbed hold of my shoulder, and brought me to a sudden halt. "What's your name though, little feminist?"
"A man really called me a feminist you know." Giggling at his stupidity, I spun on my heels and looked at him. Like reallylooked at him as I responded "and Mira. But it's Samira to people like you."
"Silas." He mumbled in response before he grasped gentle hold of my hand, and then softly stroked it with his thumb as he smiled that infectious smile of his. Silas? Now that was a . . different name. A very different name - but I weirdly liked it.
He failed to notice this, but I twitched a little from our touch.
Saying not even a single word, we stare at each other square in the eye - for a second too long to be though of as normal - and study one another from head to toe.
Just drinking in each other's appearances, before we proceed to finally gazing back up again. He's looking into my eyes as though he was attempting to read my thoughts, cheesy look on his face letting me know beforehand that he was about to say something stupid. "Why's it Samira to people like me?"
The way he said my name - alone - caused me to purr down below.
Why's it Samira to people like me? My name rolled off Silas' tongue like it was good gold.
"Um, cause' you don't know me?" Furrowing my brows closer together, I said in a 'duh' tone.
"Um, why can't I get to know you?" Silas chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest like a child that wasn't getting their way.
"It was nice meeting you, Silas. . . but your times up, look." I pointed, since one of his boys had been watching everything unfold between the two of us from his car. He kissed his teeth and I laughed, letting go of his hand. Very, very reluctantly.
Silas grunted. "I guess this is goodbye then, init?"
"Mhm." I smiled, a genuine smile as deep down? I couldn't wait for his departure. "Until next time, my friend."
"Until next time." He repeated, nodding his head. And I fought from within not to break out into a tremendous fit of laughter right there and then. Until next time? This boy would grow grey hairs on his head waiting for that to happen. He was not to see me again - and I was going to make sure of that by coming here through the back entrance. Until next time, my back foot.
A car horn beeped. From the corner of my eye, I caught glimpse of his friend slamming his fists on the steering wheel over and over again."Fam, my jollof rice is waiting for me at home! I wasted petrol on you, you know? Hurry the fuck up and hop in - d'you want my food to get cold?"
"This guy and his bludclart jollof." Silas snickered. "I'll catch you slipping somewhere again, don't worry." He steps a little closer and zips up my jacket, probably sensing that this cold British weather had taken toll on me. His hands brush against mine as he sneakily whispers in my ear, "them nipples was real hard, boy."
"Shit." I growl to myself.
"I always knew you was a Wizard Of Waverly Place, Si! Say swear you don't wanna' man to eat. You want me malnourished, init?" That friend beeps his horn once again, I could even hear him insulting Silas' entire life, claiming that he always knew the boy was a baby that'd been dropped at birth.
"Safe." He bolts across the road, glancing back at me before crouching into the car.
"You want me looking them Africans on the TV. I know it. I fucking know it. See, cause' you're Caribbean - and you lot don't have jollof rice. . ." Once he was in the car, the unidentified friend wouldn't stop with the ranting. Silas just leaned back into the seat, yawning as he crossed his arms over his chest - before gazing out of the window to throw me a sly wink.
His skin looked so smooth.
So, so smooth? I dared to find out whether that caramel complexion tasted as good as it looked.
His skin was the shade of Werthers Original. And you should know that tastes nice.
Waking up from one of my many daydreaming sessions, I threw him a shy wave, then jolted open the door of JRC Global, purse in my hands.
A large flock of well-known noisemakers in my area have crowded up my once-quiet safe haven. How great? I scoff, making sure to glare at each and every one of them whilst I strutted to the queue. It just so happens that whenever one of them catches me somewhere, the next time I visit - the whole gang too have decided to make that their new link up spot.
The thought of bending down scurried through my mind once I heard something drop behind me. But after I glanced down to see my purse was still in my hands, I decided against that.
Whatever had dropped, wasn't my own belonging.
"Scuse' me, little miss." A familiar voice called, whilst tapping me twice on the shoulder.
I could tell who the owner of that deep, bellowing voice was from a mile away.
