Disgustingly Yours.

22. Strange.

"I have been watching you since you entered. What's wrong?" I felt her hand on my hand, rubbing circles on it.

Don't move it. Don't. Don't push it away. Let it be there.

"It's okay that we couldn't meet for so long. We are here. Meeting up. Making up."

"What do you do when you feel guilty?" I asked.

She stared at me for a long time.

"You don't need to." She murmured.

"What?"

"It's fine I said. Work is important. You don't need to feel bad about it."

"Pethic what are you talking about?" I queried, glancing at her manicured hand clasping mine.

"About your guilt. I told you, work is your priority and it ought to be. I can wait."

My heart did a weird flip. What does my guilt have to do with her or my work? Oh.

What was I even thinking when I asked that?

"Yeah. Thank you." I smiled awkwardly.

"Anytime." She looked at me, her guard down, strange emotions swirling in her eyes, peeking at me.

Aren't you getting close to her? More than required?

"The meal hasn't come yet. See, I told you, eat what I want, it comes quickly." I smirked and she rolled her eyes. Her hand still rested on mine, my brain and mind fighting over something.

"Good things take time to come."

"Aren't you too positive towards life?" I asked, pulling my hand away politely.

"Look, life is all about what you look at. It goes on. Whether you look at one thing or the other. So we should look at good things, shouldn't we? " She shrugged.

We had the dinner and after a second round of wine, I decided it was late.

"How did you get to know that I was not in the town?" I asked.

"Dexter. You would see me as often as you can if you were here so I guessed." She stated.

"Really?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Indeed. It might have started with image building but I believe it's more than that now." She uttered, tentatively looking at my hand.

"To be honest, you are a friend. Probably, a good one." I let myself give her a fuller smile which she reciprocated with a curt one.

"Good night then." I stood up offering my hand.

"Good night." She shook it. The handshake no more was hard. It was friendlier. Much more than I would like. And I didn't want that.

###

I was heading to the old mansion. His mansion.

"Good evening son." He braced himself to open the door for me.

"Can we talk outside? The weather is good." I suggested.

"Why? Is there a problem inside?" His tone on the edge.

Yes. Sure as hell. That is a bloody haunted house. Coming inside is the last thing I need.

You can handle it Alphi. You've actually been through all that. This would at max give you some bad dreams. That's it. Plus you already are not sleepy nowadays.