||First Runner Up ChickLit Contest ||
'When you win a trip to a paradise island, you couldn't be more thrilled. A whole week full of relaxation and rest is exactly what you need. Too bad your mortal enemy had the same idea.
When you're confronted wi...
I hear the clicking of tongue and pulled my book down to see the source of the sound. Why did I not make a blind guess? Mr.Devil was here.
"Such a glorious ocean is calling out to you with all its waves and you're reading a damned novel? Pity! " He commented peeling of his t-shirt. Damn! I quickly diverted my eyes to my book. "Like what you see?" his teasing tone rang into my ears. "I wish the ocean's invisible crocodile swallows you!" I remarked.
"Is that how yummy I look?" he chuckled.
"Shut. Up." I looked up from the book. This man was the incarnation of devil. Annoying.
I saw him get rid of his three-fourth pants. My eyes widened and then I quickly looked down covering my eyes with the shades.
"You can gawk at me without those. Perhaps the look would be better."
"God, why on earth would I be interested in that?"
"Unless you're a lesbian. Are you?"
"No!" I exclaimed alarmed.
He gave a wink and a flirty smirk. "Take care of my clothes while I take a swim!" He ran closer to the water.
I fumed. Who was I his personal secretary? I looked at his clothes, angrily. It was then an idea struck me. Well, take care, why not?
I looked at him. He seemed to be flirting with a few local girls a few minutes hence, he was swimming away. I took the opportunity and picked up his clothes between two fingers and then my bag in other hand. "Have a nice time in wet boxers Mr.Jerkface!" I smiled walking away.
* * *
I had dumped Mr.Annoying Syndrome's clothes in the first dustbin I had found. I was now walking down the main shopping street of Paradise Island. I had never felt so much better in a while. I could already imagine him walking into the resort's lobby wearing wet blue boxers. I giggled looking at the bracelets. Oh they were so pretty! My heart had stopped on one having crescent moons hanging. "This one!" I told the shopkeeper bring out the money.
A little ahead there was a vendor selling soup. A certain variation of tomato soup that was a local specialty. The soup was indeed worth the try albeit, with the extra spices. A little ahead was a young girl selling scarfs. The girl's smile was enchanting. I bought a scarf and asked her if I could take a photograph with her. She cheerfully agreed. The photo captured the memory well with the market street in the backdrop.
"LAILA WINGET!" A loud roar rang in my ears. Oh crap, how on earth did he find me? I turned and my eyes grew wide like saucepans. Having a man dressed just in wet blue boxers screaming your name in the middle of a tourist market isn't a thing one would appreciate. I certainly, did not. Particularly not, when the said man was your arch enemy to whom embarrassing you was a sport he loved. In my defense, I never expected him to rummage through the local market in search of me instead of getting quickly inside the resort (which was hardly a point five kilometer) and finding himself in his private room. Urgh the luck was never on my side!
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Word Count: 537
(1585 so far)
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