I was finishing the last of my cigar when I sensed someone approaching me. I flicked away my cigar and looked at her sharply to stop her approach. But she didn't stop as she came towards me trailing her fingers on the wall. I tensed because it was the first time that someone dared to move so close into my personal space while I was glaring at them. I looked at the person approaching me as she came to light and was surprised to see a brown haired girl who looked about 15 years old.
"Peter.." She whispered as she touched my abdomen. Wow, this girl has got some guts, I thought as I gave her a death stare. She wasn't looking at me but was staring right at my crotch. I felt a distinct and unique feeling of discomfort as she brushed her hand down past the belt and then stopped with a curious knit to her eyebrows. It was strange because I've never had to deal with a situation like this before.
I could easily dismiss groping hands and move on but when assaulted directly like this, I didn't know how to handle it. I was still very surprised that my glare which usually scares hardened criminals didn't faze this little girl. The top of her head barely grazed my chin. Disconcertingly, I found her scent pleasant. She smelled like vanilla and butter or more like a vanilla flavoured cookie. Perhaps that's why I was staring at her without brushing away her hands as it went up my chest. Her eyes widened as her hands quickened and finally rested on my cheeks. She rubbed my cheeks and I controlled the urge to grab her and..well, I stopped myself at that because now I was really bewildered by my own feelings.
"You are..not Peter?" She asked me and I frowned. Who the hell was Peter?
"Angie, what are you doing?" I heard a girl's voice and we both turned towards the voice. It was the same girl who was trying to sell broth earlier. Her eyes turned fearful as she looked at me.
"Angie, come here." She said sharply. I looked at the brown haired girl beside me. She started to walk towards her and almost fell flat on her face. I almost held her hand to steady her but pretended to make it seem like I raised my hands to run through my hair.
"Where have you been? Where's Peter?" The girl who was at the stall asked her.
"I don't know. He took the buns and ran ahead of me. I thought this man was Peter. I am so sorry." She said, bowing to me. I frowned.
"Are you blind that you couldn't see I wasn't your Peter?" I asked testily and she flinched.
The girl beside the brown haired one looked nervously at me while the brown haired girl smiled softly and nodded.
"I am and I am sorry for touching you. I kept touching you, wondering why uncle Radford seemed so different. Thank you for not hurting me." She said and I stared at her in shock. It felt like she just punched me in the stomach.
I looked at her awkwardly, feeling at a loss for words. I couldn't believe she was blind. I watched as the other girl dragged the brown haired girl away. Now that I saw the other girl assisting her, I could tell she wasn't joking. She really couldn't see. I stayed back and watched as the girl stood behind the stall and started selling broth to customers. She had a soft beauty about her like a beautiful rose growing in a desert. To me, she seemed so out of place in Azamuth. Her lips looked soft and red. Her skin was peachy and free of any blemishes. She had large, beautiful blue eyes with long lashes. Her nose was a bit on the thin, longish side like that on models but there was a small bend to the straightness of her nose. Maybe someone punched her, I thought. Why did she thank me for not hurting her? Does she get hurt often? Who would dare hit such an innocent looking face? I wondered as I kept my watch on her. The other girl kept watching me fretfully and finally I decided to leave. I told myself to forget all about it. But that night, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about why the brown haired girl's nose wasn't straight.
YOU ARE READING
You are my angel
RomansaThe short story of a hardened criminal finding love and turning over a new leaf. It's a story of hope and learning to forgive one's own self.