Solace

Chapter 2: Virago

This chapter is dedicated to the awesome author of 'Run bad boy run ', , if you haven't read that book then go and read it now!

Virago/
/vɪˈɹɑːɡəʊ/
noun
A woman given to undue belligerence or ill manner at the slightest provocation; a shrew; a termagent.

▫CHAPTER 2▫
V I R A G O

EVELYN

To  say the least, I was relatively surprised.

The reason behind my surprise? I might have also lied a bit about his so called looks, in my defense I always thought his features were photoshopped, I knew it was highly unlikely for every magazine on the planet to edit his pictures but I also thought it unlikely for a person to have everything in life. Apparently I was wrong, the man standing in front of me said otherwise unless he had gotten plastic surgery. Or God had simply decided do waste such an artistic face on such a synthetic soul. He was undeniably good looking, his exotic features stood out vividly, verifying that he was no American or English man, straight nose, square prominent jaw, accentuated by the highlight of a five o'clock shadow, tanned skin, no wonder from all the time he wasted on those beaches.
Right above his brows and across the corner of his left eyebrow was the infamous jagged scar that did nothing to lessen his beauty.

Hi hair too couldn't have been receding or awful, no, his hair was the perfect shade of a midnight sky , tousled with soft tufts of it falling on his equally dark brows. But no that was not what surprised me, what surprised me was how he he didn't have a single piece clothing on his upper half body and how well developed abdominal muscles stared at me.

"Better wipe away the drool darling." The deep accented voice confirmed that he was indeed the man I had spoken to over the phone, and snapped me out of my reverie. I chastised myself for forgetting about my original purpose and getting hypnotized by his ridiculous physical attributes like every women I had ever mocked.

Sure he was handsome, but there were many handsome men who come with a brain and without arrogance. Not that I had met any, but one could hope.

I looked at him with growing agitation while he stood still, watching me with a half confused half annoyed expression plastered over his face.

Such a gentleman man he was, first he dropped me and now he was not even bothering to help me up.

This realization alone made me regain my senses that I had apparently lost a few seconds ago, I don't ogle at men. Hell I don't even pay them a single glance or breathe in their direction. Okay, that might be an exaggeration but people called me a lot of things ranging from an extreme feminist, very rude sexist, to a lesbian though the fact that I was practically gawking at the man in front of me not seconds ago completely proved the last theory wrong, but all this did nothing to diminish my dislike for the male sex, after all I did have a legitimate reason for my adherence with this dislike.

I just scowled at him and got up by myself, all the while shooting one of my deadliest glares at him.

He returned my glare with ten times more fury, I had always thought Adrian Gallagher to be like any other famous man, he was mysterious, a man of few words, he probably woke up, brushed his teeth and had breakfast like us normal humans, then go about his day working, drinking, have dinner at night and probably take a woman or two home.

But the way his steely eyes stared into mine with so much rage and emotions obstructed by their iciness, I knew he wasn't anything like I imagined him to be, he wasn't mysterious because he didn't talk, he was mysterious because of the unusual scar on his eyebrow, because of the way his jaw always remained clenched, but now I realized he was mysterious because his eyes never gave away anything except for fury.