Walls of Fire

13. Promises

"You can call the lady as Amy." With his gaze anchored in affection, he drawled.

Stealing a small glimpse of my face which was submerged under a coquettish smile, he directed his gaze back to the kiddo sitting up on his arms.

He caressed her plump chin painted with peach chroma, and planted kisses in a row on her forehead, chin, nose and cheeks. She mushed her lips, and pecked James as a token of gratitude.

No doubt, he was fond of kids and was blessed with an amazing potential to mingle with them.

He brought his mouth close to her ears and uttered some words in her ears discreetly. It was, indeed, a whisper and James's intention of limiting the audience was fruitful. My ears were unsuccessful in catching the sound waves.

Kelly glanced back at me and furrowed her eyebrows. Evidently, James's response to the second part of her question was the consequence of her outlandish visual expression.

She concealed her small mouth, which was parted because of astonishment, with her golden like honey kissed coloured hands, and twittered. A beautiful giggle wended its way all across the corridor, and tickled my skin.

She carted her ear closer to listen to the rest of the confrontation. In a hushed tone, he presented the rest of the talk.

The angel bursted out into laughter and in the process, she slithered a few drops of tears.

I was the subject of their conversation. I was unaware of the circumstances which shipped cachinnation. I was boycotted from becoming an active member in the conversation. Obivously, why would they take the pain of including the subject (the one about whom the conversation is spinng around) in their important business meeting!

I stood up, walked down the stairs, and settled closer to the duo with a hope of being given equal importance in the atmosphere. Their response was rapid as well. They transported themselves steadily step by step backward, thus establishing a distance between us. They must had taken me either to be a spy or some sort of contagious virus causing infection. Maybe, the reason was a combination of both the reasons.

Though Mr. Storyteller was busy with the narration, his blue coins were clasped with mine along the length of their conversation. He was eyeing my movements, and entertaining himself with the fact that I was desperate to take a part in the discussion. He was a mind reader. He knew I was eagerly waiting to listen to his response. Restricting me from the conversation, and then gossiping with his partner in whispers were parts of his master minded game plan. The man had higher level of knowledge of how to torture people. A devil never shows mercy!

I narrowed my eyes, sending him death stares, and frowned. Disregarding me, he determined himself to focus on his lover.

His measures of avoiding a short tempered woman like me unattended should be answered unexpectedly in a brutal form. The devil inside me under the influence of boiling lava decided.

"Kelly, I was heading to the market for some quick shopping so do you want some tasty and yummy dark chocolates?"

"What about the work?" Irritated with my unprofessional, my ex - roommate inquired.

"Well Mr. Black, my ex - roommate." I ratified his place in my eyes inspite of all the stories he had cooked or false allegations he had pinned, and added formally in a soft tone, "Let's say since you have a plenty of time in your hand to flip over my personal items which basically infringed our agreement, I will have to give up my good manners, and forbid myself from assisting you."

"Smart move." Mr. Black quipped.

He was victorious in employing his brain cells to function properly in order to originate the actual motive behind my words. But he was not the kind of a player to back off. I was well equipped with his special character trait. He was as stubborn as I was or maybe, even more than me.