"Its you isn't it?" He breathes, and I properly register the sound of his voice for the first time. Smooth, warm and tinged with adolescent crack towards the end. Boy, it's boyish... Pun intended of course. I turn to face him, my polite nature giving way to adequate manners.
" You mean from the night at Toscano?" I utter slowly, with a raised brow.
"I thought so" he mutters checking me out from head to toe. I return the favour and let my eyes wander all over him.
"Apologies for the t-shirt. I highly doubt you got back the original colour" the tension between us could be cut with a knife... Saying that the situation was weird and awkward would be stating 1% of what was actually going on. It was freaking hell, with the both of us fidgeting and eye-rolling and looking elsewhere.
"It got stained pretty deeply" He digs his hands into the pocket of his jeans. But I honestly don't get it. He seems to have another ditto white t-shirt, yet he persists on being mad at me. Bloody meanie.
If he wants to stay pissed then he can very well learn from the best. And rather surprisingly I feel kind enough to teach him how to be the master of the art. I turn around and stalk off, out of the Varma Mansion.
Hardly, 5 seconds later I remember that I was supposed to mend the crap, not worsen the affair. Bad Alia! I let out a soundless weep and punch my fate right in the middle. Forgetting the 'being mean/angry and teaching him the fucking art crap' I call him outside. A girl has such a difficult life......
"Well. Do you want me to brief you up on the production, so you know what's going on?" I ask moderately pleasant. Successfully shifting the atmosphere from suffocating to bearably comfortable.
" Yes. That should be good". He responds, making eye contact. Those brown eyes. And since its the first time we aren't gazing at each other with hate..... I notice and acknowledge, how handsome he truly is. Tall, tan with a chiseled jaw and sharp features. Long adequately muscular arms, neither lanky nor overly bulky like he was suffering with adrenal virilism. I can't possibly forget to give credit to his hero-hair, which is flawless and makes my girly eyes go hearts. I control my facial muscle movements and focus my attention to begin explaining the dance. I can always check out his backside and legs when my hopelessly creepy motives aren't visible over my damn face.
" Alright! I'm sure you're familiar with the fairytale?" And I await a nod from him before resuming " So its basically the same, there are a few additional scenes here and there." His thin gaze and thoughts seems to be elsewhere. I pause for a beat before ignoring his inattention and continuing. Weird as fuckkkk... But, Here we gooo! " Do you want me to tell you the entire story or just your ..."
His arms grip my elbows tightly and I'm pulled into is chest as we both move back together, me in his arms. Two loud-assed huge racing bikes whip through, barely 8 inches from my butt, raising fine sand simultaneously. I screw my eyes shut from the noise and absolute terror as my hearts starts shitting in my chest. Clutching his arms for support, I wince, adrenaline flowing in my veins. And as quickly as I was pulled into him. I let go,
"That was scary" I bend down and exhale, holding my knees. What the actual fuck just happened. I wasn't in his embrace a moment ago, was I?! Why? Why? Why me god? Can't my life be normal and dull and uneventful, when I want it to be?
"Are you okay?" Arjun steps forward and enquires, his voice laced with genuine concern. He is you're real Prince!!!!! My inner drama obsessed goddess swoons. Christ!
"Yeah.." I pat and dust off the sand that settled on my black stockings. But moreover, to avoid eye contact just yet. Can my heart calm down or what?
"Stand." He doesn't order or demand. He says it. And I much too willingly oblige. The space between us is minimal and obvious. "Are you okay?"
"Im fine. Thank you." I look at his face and nod with a smile. A small, thankful smile.
"Okay. I just fail to understand why these blind, numbskulls decided to race in a residential area." He mutters with disgust. " So.. Umm, why don't you tell me the entire story ?" He opts more sweetly, obviously after running his hands through his hair. I guess I don't entirely hate my life. :)
"Lets sit" I gesture towards the white antique bench inside the house.
After settling down, I begin to explain all the scenes. His beautiful visage cracks into a grin, when he learns about the dance teacher scene, and his eyebrows shoot up, when I inform him, how he'd have to dance with the stepsisters and they'd pull and push him across the stage like lunatics.
" And then, all the maidens try on the magic slipper. Unfortunately, it doesn't fit even the most apt feet and you start losing hope. Curtains open and the scene is in Cinderella's house. The rowdy step mom and sisters shove their feet into the pretty shoes to no avail.... And at last, Cinderella walks in. The step mom pushes her away, not wanting the dirty maid to have her chance. But you command her to move aside and guide me to the chair...." My eyes drift to his, which stare back deeply into mine. "You sink down to the floor and place my foot on your knee, gently sliding the shoe on. It fits." I smile with a shrug and finish.
"Then what?" he asks, taking my breath away.
"th-then?" I stutter.
"What happens after that?" He questions again.
"It ends there. We bow and get our asses off stage." I reply. What did he think?
" You're a great narrator Alia. Extremely animated".
"Why thank you!" I dash him a charming smile, an insuppressible blush rising to my face and neck. I'm gonna go home and roll on the floor in glee.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Him and Me
Teen Fiction"If you were a boy, I'd ask you to take off your t-shirt for spoiling mine." He retorts "If this wasn't a restaurant I'd slap you across your arrogant face". I spit with anger. Alia plays the role of Cinderella in her Ballet Academy. One fine night...
