Two years.
Two worlds apart.
Second the chance.
He wasn't returning to just play, this time around he was there to stay.
And she could do nothing, but let him have his way.
•••Sequel to Toxic Innocence•••
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No one else than us.
Only him and I.
Cycling through the merciless misty early morning-my neon green local bike and his tangy orange luxury car hit the brakes as the church bell dings. The rustic rings pulses the stare down we had- him through grey tinted rear glass as I peeked at him through the hem of my helmet.
No one else.
At seven, none sane soul bothered to begin their day. Us excluded. So when I parked my bike and him his vehicle, we stood facing each other.
"Good morning"
Straining my gaze at the cloudy but slightly waking sunrays in the sky I greeted pointedly.
"Doesn't feel like you believe it's actually good" at his comment I gurgle a chuckle, my voice still laced with fatigue. Our frozen breathes kept forming a smoke and by the looks of him wrapped in layers of coats and fluffy scarf – I bet he was freezing his bones off despite the strong front he showcased.
His breath kept staggering when I was no better.
"It would have been if I wasn't threatened to be up so soon and work when the whole city is asleep" i hissed scrunching my nose to stop my hair from tickling me. It kept playing like it didn't belong to a mortal who was trying to keep up her attitude.
Silence.
Gush of more- surprisingly swirling breeze.
Prolonged unexplainable intense stare that he seem to be regular with.
"Unfortunate for you" he sassed abruptly, moving in thankfully as I tailed. Fumbling with my bags, adjusting the sliding winter hat and untied boots. Waddling I tried to hear him while drilling a fanciful hole at the back of his head which soon became front when he turned reaching for the door to his cabin all while looking at me "-Success doesn't walk towards you on its two feet, so I chase it. I'd do it until I die"
It was plushy- beneath our feet laid the softest velvety floor rug. The heels of my boots sinks in pleasure as warmth of heater eloped me in its cocoon. The beige and woody interior with minimalist furniture and lightings illuminated the space with something that felt too out of place for him to prefer.
He wasn't warm.
"I'd rather survive than give up on my schedule"
It would have been the lamest excuse. Pathetic if I say so- But when he frowned while taking off his jackets and wraps I stood there awkwardly as he stripped to his chiselled self- suddenly aware that I should, probably take my job this wise in accordance and be of use.
"You don't have dreams?" his words cradled my pacifying thoughts. The suspecting curiousness and the short spark of emotions in his eyes matched the theme of this place. And yet still- still it was out of league. The morphing characteristics of his in the limited time I met him confused me.
