Strings Attached

~Chapter 16~

"Please! Stop that man on the bicycle. He's getting away with my purse," she says in between ragged breaths and we realise that she's talking about the same man we passed some minutes ago.

And before I can do anything, Seth turns around and breaks into a run. And I'm left to console her.

"He'll get you your purse, please don't worry," I tell her as she comes closer. It's quite dark here, so I can't see her clearly. But I'm getting a vibe from her which tells me to go nearer and look closely.

Her shoulders sagged, she dejectedly drags herself towards the pavement and sits down, clutching her head in her hands. "Oh! I'm never going to get it back. He must've gone far away by now," I hear her muffled voice. She's on the verge of crying.

Her accent is familiar. And the nicer part in me pushes me to go and sit down beside her. "My friend's gone to catch the man. He'll get it for you, I promise," I tell her softly, trying all I can to make her give up the idea of crying on me. I can't handle girls when they cry.

Something makes her remove her hands and look up and when she does, she gives out a cry of disbelief. "You!" she says distastefully, and stands up, as if bitten. "What the hell are you doing here?!" Hidayah Ali asks me, her tone all shades of sourness and her eyes afire.

"I can ask you the same, can't I? Besides, you're in no position to argue, don't you think?" I respond with some questions of my own, my tone calm and composed. In reality, her presence, the dark, and the fact that there's nobody about us, is doing things to me. Even when I'm sober.

"You shouldn't be out like this after dark. It's not safe." "Yeah, safe from whom? You??" she scoffs like I'm kidding. That gets me to fire up. "Nowhere is safe from you," she adds sardonically. And that, ladies and gentlemen, just makes my anger soar to newer heights.

I take a step or two towards her as she instinctively backs away. I find it surprising and, to be honest, I'm slightly insulted too, but I keep my expression unfazed.

"You know what? You're far too salty for your own good! Correct that attitude before it lands you on my wrong side," I whisper fiercely. But the girl is strange. She keeps looking downwards like she's deaf or something and I feel like I'm scolding a child.

So, to get my point across, I take hold of her shoulders, shaking her a bit. And when she looks at me in alarm, I finish, "because then, it'll be too late, and you'll get to taste it first-hand and it just might be too much to handle," I snap at her with gritted teeth, and then let go. She stands dazed, like she's about to fall, making me question my actions, though reluctantly so.

Every time I try not to lose patience with her, this little prick makes it harder, I swear!

Oh! To think that I sympathised with her a while ago.

I turn slightly away from her to collect my thoughts and calm myself when her voice arrests me. Her words drop out of her mouth so quickly and brokenly that they're incoherent at first, and if I hadn't known her before, I'd have thought she has a speech impediment.