chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Every heart sings a song, incomplete,

until another heart whispers back.

Those who wish to sing always find a

song. At the touch of a lover, everyone

becomes a poet." Plato

Chapter 15

Nate was a fool. A stupid, ignorant

fool. How could he have thought that

after such a prolonged absence there

could be any residual attachment? He

must've been absolutely delusional to

think that he could return and that she

would be swept off her feet by his mere

presence.

Just as soon as her fiancé had arrived,

she'd left his side as she'd rather Mr

Mornington's arms around her. Nate's

first impression of him was that he was

a scrawny twit. He was not completely

devoid of good looks, but he looked to

be as old, if not younger than Charlotte.

No more than twenty years old. Of

course Nate's thirty years would seem

old to him.

"Daddy, I can walk," Maggie

complained.

In his utter humiliation at seeing

Charlotte and Eric embrace, he'd

scooped Maggie up as he wanted to

leave Ascot immediately.

He didn't release Maggie until his

driver had brought the carriage

around. He didn't want to risk her

wandering off and delaying their

departure. Once inside the carriage,

he let her go and she sat on the seat

opposite him.

Maggie stared at him curiously and

cocked her head. "Who was that man

that Lady Charlotte was with?" she

asked.

Nate didn't answer. He voiced the

word 'fiancé in his head with such

distaste, if it came out of his mouth

it would most definitely be with a

sneer. "Are you tired of England?" he

asked instead. Frowning darkly, he

continued. "I am. I will organise for us

to leave immediately upon our return.

Perhaps we'll travel east, this time. We

shall go to France and then continue

on through the German Empire and

perhaps on to Russia. I've heard

wondrous things about the Imperial

palaces there. We shall have to peruse

a language book or two..." he babbled

until Maggie interrupted him.

"Hold on a minute," she said, holding

her hand up. "I ain't going anywhere,"

she said firmly.

"Ain't is not a word," Nate murmured. 4

"I don't care if 'ain't' ain't a word. I

ain't going anywhere. We just got

here!" she protested impatiently.

"AndI say we're leaving!" Nate

countered in the same tone. He could

not believe he was having such a

disagreement with a seven-year-old.

They both were glaring at each other. It

didn't help that Maggie's adorableness

was one of her strengths.

"You go hide all you want. I'm staying

right here." She folded her arms across

her chest and slouched in her chair.

"Excuse me?" Nate scoffed.

"You heard me," she muttered, staring

at her hands in her lap.

"Mind your attitude, young lady," Nate

said sharply. "I won't tolerate any

rudeness." He would let her get away

with almost anything, but he wouldn't

allow her to be rude.

Maggie begrudgingly looked back to

him, her pale green eyes glassy. "I ain't

never had a home. Not a real one," she

said tearfully. "Momma always moved

me from Charlotte to Raleigh and back

to Charlotte whenever she got singing

jobs. Then you came and we went to

Boston but it still wasn't home. I got a

home now. Please don't make me go,"

she begged.

Looking into the all-knowing yet still

innocent eyes of his child before him,

he knew she was right. To leave would

be to hide, and he was no coward.

Charlotte was just a person. There

were several other people in that house

that mattered to him as well. No more

than the person sitting in front of him.

"Alright," he agreed. "We'll stay."

That brought a smile to her face and

she instantly climbed atop his lap and

hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she

whispered into his ear. "I'm sorry for

being rude," she added.

"No matter," he dismissed. "The man

was Lady Charlotte's.." He couldn't say

In

ne wora. betrOtnea," ne decided on,

the word still leaving a bad taste in his

mouth. "They're to marry."

Maggie looked completely shocked. "I

don't understand... I thought you-"

"No," he interrupted. "It was foolish to

think so. I don't know why I'm telling

you this. You're much too young."

Maggie pouted. "That never stopped

you before. Weren't you the one who

said we were a team?"

She had him there.

"You want to hear something

interesting?" she asked him, settling

herself on his lap.

"Of course," he agreed.

"One time a couple of years ago, I think

I was five maybe, Momma got a job by

the beach. She was singing during the

day so I played in the sand until she

was finished. I was walking down the

beach and I found some kids like me

up on the hill. They were surrounding

a pond and in the pond was a white

bird, a pelican. I saw what they were

cheering, and it was that the pelican

had a frog in its mouth. I was shocked

that they were happy that a pelican

Was eaüng a irog untii saw what the

frog was doing. It was fighting, Daddy.

The frog was hanging from that

pelican's beak and pushing its back

legs against his neck. He didn't stop

and go Well, I guess I'm dinner now'

no. He didn't give up, Daddy. Five

minutes later the pelican dropped him

and we all cheered. The frog hopped

away and the pelican flew off. No

matter how big the pelican, you fight

and fight until he drops you."

Nate smiled coyly. "So, you're saying I

shouldn't give up, then?"

Maggie smiled innocently. "I was just

telling you a great story." She shrugged.4

Nate chuckled and kissed the top of her

head. "You're too clever for your own

gOod."

"Just smart, Daddy. Real smart," she

said with a satisfied smile on her face.

Running away was just what he'd done

two years earlier. He'd run because he

couldn't stand to be close to Charlotte

without having her. He didn't stay to

prove his worth to Emmett. How could

he if he was thousands of miles away?

Now he would stay. He would fight.

Because regardless of everything,

regardless of Emmett and Charlotte's

fiancé, he knew she was right for him.

She had made him want to become the

best version of himself possible. Before

he'd fallen for her, he'd had an endless

parade of women. But in two years

he hadn't touched one. Because none

compared to her.

***

Maggie sat on Nate's lap in the library

as she read The Sleeping Beauty'to

him. "At last he came to the room

where the sleeping Princess lay"

Maggie read, sometimes stumbling on

a few words before figuring them out

herself. "Oh, how beautiful you are!'

he whispered, and he bent down and

he gently kissed her." At this, Maggie

giggled and blushed. "At the touch of

his lips, the Princess opened her eyes

and held out her arms. 'You have been

so long in coming,'she murmured. The

castle came to life as the two embraced.

Dogs barked; cats miaowed; pigeons

cooed; the cheffinished tasting his soup;

and the scullery maid went about her

business with the mop. What happiness

there was that day inside the castle!

Prince Charming married his Sleeping

Beauty in the castle chapel-and he

alone knew that her wedding gown

was at least one hundred years out of

fashion. But nevera word did he say to

spoil the wonderful moment." Maggie

closed the book and smiled. "I like that

story."

"Me too," Nate agreed.

"You know what I don't understand."

"What?"

"Why does she wake up when Prince

Charming kisses her? Does he have

medicine on his lips?" she asked

curiously.

Only Maggie would try and rationalise

a fairy tale. "It's true love's kiss, Maggie.

It's magic." Would that not be an

explanation to satisfy a child?

"Why does she marry him right away

though? His name is Prince Charming

but he calls her Sleeping Beauty. That's

not her name. Shouldn't he know her

name?" she continued to press.

Couldn't she just be happy with a

fantasy like most little girls? Again,

Maggie was terribly unique. "I suppose

they married right away because they

knew they'd be happy with no other.

If you know that you love a person

then delaying your lives together is

pointless." He trailed off. his thoughts

travelling to Charlotte in the arms

of Eric. It angered him more than

anything. He wasn't angry at her. He

was angry at himself for letting her go.

"But he doesn't know her name!"

Maggie insisted.

"It's a secret just between them," Nate

told her. "But don't you marry the first

man who ever tries to kiss you. I won't

allow it. In fact, you shall report him

to me where he shall have a direct

meeting with my fist." He then realised

he sounded exactly like Emmett had

when he'd been warning Nate away

from Charlotte. Perhaps he understood.

He'd interrogate any suitor to his

breaking point before he allowed

Maggie to leave the safety of the four

walls of Montrose.

Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door

of the library and it was opened soon

after, not waiting for him to grant the

visitor entry. Bess stormed into the

library with an angry look on her face.

She was wearing a plain, lavender

gown with a matching travelling cloak

and she wore her wavy blonde hair

down, hanging to her waist.

She paused a moment when she saw

Maggie on Nate's lap but she still

continued to look utterly irritated.

"I was in correspondence with a

thirty-piece orchestra from Vienna.

I was drawing impossible plans

and sending them to a patisserie

specialising in cakes in Paris. I'd

ordered chocolate especially from

Spain for the reception and I'd selected

a piglet not a month ago to be raised

for the meal." She spoke calmly but

she looked as though she was about to

slaughter him.

"I've not ruined your perfect wedding,

Bessie. She's still engaged if you hadn't

noticed" he informed her. She'd still

get her precious orchestra. "Id thought

you were on my side."

Bess' hazel brown eyes flared. "I am!"

she exclaimed. "I don't give a hoot

about this wedding! That's why I've

ordered all these frivolous things. I

was stalling her so that you could come

home and stop it all. Now she's realised

what I've been doing and she plans to

just do it at the church in the next few

weeks. You are the one who has not

fulfilled your end of the bargain. What

have you done? Shared a few sentences

during a cricket match and sliced open

her corset! Where's the romance?

Where's the grandeur? Why are you

not tossing stones up at her window

and confessing your love?"

Clearly Bess had been reading one too

many Shakespearean sonnets. "Maggie,

go and change for the evening, would

you?" he asked, wanting Maggie to

leave the room.

Maggie reluctantly climbed off of

his lap and exited the library slowly,

wanting to catch a little more of the

conversation before she was out of

earshot.

"I haven't done anything because she's

still upset with me. And just as we were

able to share a laugh, her fiancé arrives

and she jumps into his arms. I don't

want to give up on her, Bess. But I just

don't know what to do."

Bess' face softened a little as she placed

her hands on her hips. "All I know for

certain is that whatever Charlotte and

Eric share, it doesn't hold a candle

to the connection that the two of you

had. They're good friends, and he is a

sweet boy. But she's settling because

she doesn't want to reopen old wounds.

You have to scratch at those wounds,

Nate. You have to pull them open and

let her feel what I know is in there

somewhere."

"Toss stones at her window?" He

ner. Carome s moner was spanisn

and her father was a white American.

That's why Maggie's skin is the tone

it is. So Caroline was sent away to

have her child out of wedlock and

she never heard from Maggie's father

again. Caroline was a good person and

she didn't deserve the prejudice she

received, both from the jeers regardingg

her unmarried status and the fact that

she was only half American." Maggie

had inherited her appearance from her

father, as Caroline's hair was ebony

and her eyes were dark brown.

"What a horrible man," Bess said

with disgust. "Though I suppose that

happens all too often. Poor Caroline.

She never did win, did she?"

"Caroline never hada lot of money,

nor did she ever have permanent

lodgings, but she had all she needed.

Maggie never wanted for anything.

Wherever the man is, he's missing out

on a wonderful little lady." Nate smiled

proudly.

"Will you tell her this?" Bess asked.

"If she asks," he replied. He didn't want

Maggie to think she was unwanted.

"Did you want to stay for dinner?"

Bess looked to the grandfather clock

ticking away in between two large

windows in the library. It was nearing

half past five in the afternoon. "I won't

tonight," she told him. "Ill need to

put Davy to bed soon. But don't forget

to come tonight. We'll retire early.

You remember which is Charlotte's

bedroom, don't you?"

Nate did. He'd seen her in the window

several times growing up when he

and Emmett had been playing on the

green. "I do," he replied. "I also wanted

to thank you for having that food

prepared today. The American cuisine

was truly very thoughtful of you."

Bess smiled coyly. "It wasn't my idea. It

was Charlotte's."

***

By eight o'clock, Maggie had been fed

and bathed by a maid, and was safely

tucked up in bed asleep. That was

when Nate had ordered a horse be

brought to him from the stables.

A grey mare was led around the side

of his house all saddled and ready for

him. Nate climbed atop her and the

stable hand adjusted the stirrups to

suit his height. Once he was ready, he

kicked his heels and the mare took off,

cantering down the road that led to his

gate.

It was lucky he knew the roads so well

as darkness had set in. He was almost

directing the horse through memory

rather than sight. He could see far

enough ahead as not to collide with any

obstacles but in the distance he was

blind.

This was such a childish thing he was

doing. Schoolboys threw pebbles at

the windows of their loves, not grown

men. He hoped he didn't make a fool of

himself, as he already had. He hoped

that Charlotte would speak to him.

Nate didn't know how long it had taken

him to ride to Ascot but the mare had

begun to pant when the great house

was in sight. He'd ridden her fairly

hard and hadn't slowed down to a walk

at all.

The iron gates were shut, locked even,

as he'd inspected them. Just perfect.

He rode around the side of the house

where the gates ended as the thick

forest begun. It was impossible for one

to slip through the tiny gap. It appeared

as though he'd have to climb the tall

wall or iron fence.

He tied his horse to the gate, allowing

enough slack in the reins so that she

could reach the grass and eat if she

wished.

With his arms fully extended above

his head, he could reach the top of the

fence. Gripping it as best as he could,

he used all his strength to lift his body

up towards the top. "Argh!" he grunted,

as he failed to move more than a few

feet off the ground for two seconds.

Then he had an idea. He climbed atop

his mare and then proceeded to stand

on top of her back, balancing by using

the bars of the fence to steady him.

"Good girl," he said quietly, trying to

keep the mare calm. If she bucked, he'd

be in trouble.

As cautiously as he could muster, he

swung his right leg over the top of the

fence and winced when his weight

shifted and he felt the pressure on his

groin. That proved how much Charlotte

meant to him.

When he swung his other leg over the

fence, he promptly fell off of it and a

bushy shrub broke his fall. His weight

had broken several of the soft branches

and when he stood up stiffly, it was

clear a man had fallen on top of it. He

did his best to flulif up the bush but ft

was no use.

Nate walked swiftly yet stiffly across

the green towards Ascot House. He

couldn't see any of the windows

illuminated so he assumed that

the house had retired. He foraged

around on the ground, searching for

small rocks and pebbles and found a

handful. He found Charlotte's window

and promptly threw one of the small

rocks at it.

Instead of making a soft noise, the rock

went straight through the window,

shattering the glass.

"For the love of God!" he exclaimed.

Why? Why did that have to happen?

He wanted to get her attention, not

scare her to death.

A few minutes later, Charlotte timidly

appeared at her window, inspecting

the damage with a candle and saucer.

"Charlotte!" he called out.

She then noticed him standing below.

She wore her dark hair in a braid over

her shoulder and a white nightgown.

She quickly unlatched her window

and opened it out into the cool night

air. "Nate?" She gasped. "What are youu

air. "Nate?" She gasped. "What are you

doing? You broke my window!"

"I know, I'm sorry. But I had to speak

with you," he replied, calling as quietly

as was needed to keep his presence at

Ascot a secret.

Charlotte bit her lip. "Alright," she

agreed, nodding. "Tl be right down."

the next chapter will be continue after the contest so wait for the next chapter

more story wondered chapter 15

4- Dreamed

The following week was mellow

compared to the hectic previous week

of curating. Although the business

partners still had work to do, there

were restful periods during the day

where they could relax.

This period, however, didn't feel

as relaxing to Alana Walters. This

was because when she wasn't doing

anything, she would often catch

herself thinking about Friday night.

Her thoughts specifically wandering

toward the enigma of the man in

Armani. Karla's boss, Lylas.

Alana couldn't exactly understand

why she couldn't get him off her mind.

Was it his attractive aura? He had

practically glared at her throughout

the whole encounter last Saturday. So

she shouldn't pay head to that sort of

arrogant person. However her mind

wouldn't stop.

This inner turmoil with herself made

her frustrated. She would never meet

that person ever again, although

She had Karla's business card for his

company. Alana couldn't see herself

contacting Karla. She stopped herself

from doing so, because deep down,

Alana knew the reason she wanted to

get in contact with Karla was for the

chance of seeing him again. This would

be very wrong and unfair for her

friend.

And so, for the rest of the week she

decided to dedicate all her efforts and

thoughts into working.

By Friday night, Jake and Pam invited

her out, since they never really

celebrated the success of last week.

They went clubbing and Alana went

all out for that night. By the time she

called it a night, she was too drunk for

sense.

Pam and Jake had been reluctant

to let her go. However, seeing how

intoxicated the usually faultless Alana

was, they decided to hail her a taxi and

implored the driver to make sure she

got home safely.

The minute Alana

entered her flat, she tottered drunkenly

toward her bedroom. The tight dress

was discarded immediatelv and

she didn't have time to slip into her

pyjamas when she slumped into her

bedsheets.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep,

she was out the minute her head hit the

pillow.

The dream entered her subconscious

the minute her mind entered REM

sleep..

In the dream, Alana found herself

standing in middle of the forest. The

leaves and grass of this forest were

auburn red, indicating the bloom of

autumn. She didn't know why but the

urge to hurry pulsated through her. She

was here because she had a purpose.

And that purpose was to find some

fruits or any edibles amongst barren

trees. She had to return before sunset.

As she coursed through the dense forest

for any edibles, it didn't take long to

encounter ripe persimmon fruits. Some

had fallen and got spoilt on the ground,

however some of juiciest still remained

rooted on the branches. She gathered

these ripe fruit using a stick to ease

down the branches. And then shoved

sixteen of them on the pockets of her

sleeves.

She then rushed her way back to where

she came from, the urge to hurry before

the sun set making her feet move faster.

The dense forest began to channel into a

soil road and she merged on this path.

A few meters away, there was a

house-like cabin waiting for her. She

saw the pile of smoke mingling with

the air from the chimney and her heart

pulsated faster. Somehow she knew

what this smoke meant.

It meant he was back. Back on time as

he had promised. She began running

toward the wooden house, her shrilling

voice calling out for him.

"Is it you?" She asked as she dashed

for the entrance door. The house was

warmly lit and cosy compared to the

blankness state she had left it in earlier.

He emerged from the threshold of the

kitchen and her heart beat quickened as

ifit was the first time seeing him.

"You have returned?" His deep voice

uttered. Then he opened his arms,

beckoning her over.

Her glee reached her toes as she quickly

ran into his hug.

It was at this point that Alana felt

herself slowly dissociating. As if her

soul was suddenly leaving her body. She

watched as the scene alter into a blur

once she became aware that she was

dreaming

The blury body she had dissociated

from reached the man with dark hair

and dark clothes. Alana watched their

bleared bodies embracing for a while

and felt a strange prickling all over

her body. It was a very weird feeling.

Because at that moment she felt as if

she were the one in his arms.

The man then leaned down to

the woman's ears and whispered

something. Alana felt her ears tingling,

as ifa warm breath had tickled her

ears. However, no matter how much she

strained to hear and see, she couldn't

for the life of her make out what he had

said and what he looked like.

There was something oddly familiar

about the two people she was watching.

Alana felt at a plight as she tried to

gather how, when and where she could

have seen these people in order for them

to feel fanmiliar to her.

All ofa sudden, the air in the dream

shifted, as if cold ice was encased

all over it. This sudden air made her

shudder with fright.

Alana turned around and startled when

she saw a man in front of her. It took a

while of studying him for her to realise

this was the same person she met at

the Gallery function last week. The man

that plagued her every thought this past

week. The man whom was her friend

Karla's boss. Lylas.

"What are you doing here?" He asked

her accusingly, his ever glaring mass

prominent.

Alana sighed, feeling disappointed that

even in her dream he was scowling.

"Its my dream, you're just a figment

of my subconscious, and shouldn't be

asking me this..." She replied.

"No." He countered. "This is my dream

portal. How could, a mere mortal such

as yourself, have managed to even

slip in? Which demon accessed you a

voodoo spell?"

Alana frowned to herself, "Dream

portal? Demon? Voodoo spell?" She

questioned, genuinely confused and

curious about what he could be possibly

saying.

It was such a strange dream to be

having. But then again all her life

her dreams have never been normal.

Nevertheless, there was something

about this certain dream that felt very

odd.

Was this what they called a lucid

dream? She wondered.

"Yes, a dream portal.. " Lylas answered

her. "..created from her strongest

sentiments and memories. No one but

me and her can enter it. " He pointed

behind her.

Alana looked back at the scene she had

left behind. Shock rooted her speechless.

The figures that had been glossed over

-as if stained with water running down

glass-were now as clear as day.

Although clear, Alana couldn't see the

features of this woman he pointed at.

Only the back of her long silver hair

accompanied witha diamond pearl

crest wrung around her head. The

greyish white dress robe and skirt

she was wearing looked ancient and

expensive, as if they were made of

one hundred percent silk and satin

material.

The silver hair on the

woman perturbed her for a moment

before she suddenly made a connection.

Could this be the same woman from

her art piece? The woman in a field of

snow? The same painting he was so

adamant on getting last week. The art

piece she regretted not keeping since

a crazy person like him had bought it

for such a ridiculous amount of money

from a third party. Alana couldn't know

for sure, since she couldn't see that

person's features.

This, however, wasn't what had made

her awestruck. It was seeing the man

whom was facing toward them--as he

hugged that woman-that astounded

her. She could see this man's features

clearly and that man was the exact

replica of the one standing and talking

beside her. Lylas.

Alana rubbed her eyes and pinched

herselffor good measure. Was she too

somnolent that she was seeing double?

Maybe she was envisioning it all. It was

after all just a dream.

"That person is you?"

"Yes." He replied.

"How?" She asked in stupefaction.

"It's my past self, exactly fifteen

thousand years ago."He told her. There

was a pain she couldn't decipher in his

tone and eyes. As if watching the couple

in front of them brought him immense

agony.

"Fifteen thousand years ago?" Alana

echoed.

She knew her dreams had always been

abnormal growing up, but to conjure

such a dream witha backstory for him

was too surreal for her to even imagine,

let alone dream it.

"How am I dreaming this?" Alana

muttered to herself

"You're not dreaming it...this is my

dream." He told her.

"I don't understand, why and how I am

in your dream then?":"

Of course you don't, you are just a

mortal.. when you wake up, you'l have

forgotten this ever happened.."

Alana suddenly panicked hearing this

statement. And through her panic she

grabbed Lylas hand. She hadn't a clue

where the courage had came from.

However. she lived life seizing moments.

This moment to Alana was just an odd

but thrilling dream she was having. And

in this dream, she told herself she would

take full advantage of the situation.

In reality she would never again meet

this person. And since he said she won't

remember this dream, the desire to

touch him overtook practicality.

Alana felt the instant warmth of his

palm against hers for a that mere

second before he flinched from her

touch. The warmth of his hand felt so

real, it brought her pulse to a spike.

Did she judge wrongly then Was it not

really her dream? How could he feel so

real to touch?

"Who are you?" He asked her, his eyes

were on the hand she had grabbed.

The look on his face as if she had

contaminated him.

The way he looked down at her-with

his deep glaring expression-the slight

puzzlement ingrained in his eyes made

it seem as if he was asking himself that

question.

Alana felt submerged in his eyes

instantly. Although his expression was

unpleasant, there was something about

his eyes that was drawing her in.

She opened her mouth, about to

remind him that they met at the

gallery function last week, the artist

of the painting he purchased, when he

suddenly waved his hand infront of her

face.

Something gold and shining twirled in

front of her eyes. It beckoned, entranced

and made her even more lethargic.

Her last thought was of regret before

she fell into a burst of unconsciousness.

Regret that she couldn't spend more

time with him in this weird but pleasant

dream.

**

Saturday mornings were sacred to

Alana Walters. As sacred as Buddha

to monks. This was her precious time

to relax and have a lie in: either with

a good book in hand or a tv show on

play. Nevertheless, today the second

she woke up, she was afflicted with

the urge to paint. She felt tormented.

Tormented by the dream she couldn't

recall.

She sat in her painting room across

from her bedroom with a blank

canvas mounted, paints arranged and

paintbrush in hand. However still, all

she could do was trace the foggy faint

outline of a face she thought she saw in

her dream.

Alana felt at an impasse. As if

something very important was missing

and she couldn't for the life of her

figure out what.

Another twenty minute of frustration

passed by before she was saved by the

ringtone of her blaring phone.

The caller was an unknown number

and as she picked up, Alana was

surprised to hear a familiar voice. It

was Karla and she wanted them to

have breakfast together. The time

and place was already arranged and

booked. All Alana had to do was get

ready and drive there.

Since the whether was still too hot for

this country, Alana decided to wear

the same blue denim shorts she wore

last week, with a sleeveless white crop

top and white All Stars. She topped this

with a baby pink flannel shirt in which

she wrapped around her waist. Just in

case it got chilly later on wards. You

never knew with this unpredictable

bipolar whether.

For her face, she didn't bother with

make-up. Alana was one of those

people that were blessed with natural

clear skin and striking features: a

perpetual pale face against her stark

dark brown almond shaped eyes and

pinkish full lips.

For her neck-length black hair, she

tied some strands off her face and left

a fringe to cover the annoying mole on

her forehead.

Before she grabbed her keys on the

wall, she made sure nothing electrical

was left on. After double checking

everything, Alana then darted out of

her door and headed straight to her

car, thankful for choosing the ground

floor from this three storey flat.

Alana entered the famous

elite cafè feeling out of place by the

poshness of the interior. Even the

servers looked more expensive than

she was. The waiter greeting her bore

a doubtful look as he saw her attire.

However, since he was on the job, his

customer service was pristine and

established.

As he escorted her to where Karla

was waiting for her, Alana attracted

watchful disapproving eyes from

onlookers as she walked by table

after table. This further enhanced the

unwelcome feeling.

There was one table that Alana felt

an extremely uncomfortable rise

in temperature as she passed. This

temperature felt as if it was boiling

her vital innards and destabilising her

system. She felt a quick compression

puncturing through her head, as if

someone struck her head with a bolt of

electricity, thus making her head ring

with constant pain. This pain, however,

was gone as she soon she passed that

certain table.

Her eyes met with a deadly stare that

could incinerate one into ashes on

the spot. The ominous bloodthirsty

expression on such a handsome face

made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

Whoever this person was, Alana was

alerted to the impending danger.

She didn't know how she could tell,

but her intuition was sending booming

signals to be cautious. Especially when

that person smirked so evilly at her

distressed expression.

"Finally you're here?" Karla rose fromn

her seat to greet her with a welcoming

smile.

Alana wrought her gaze away from the

danger two seats away, telling herself

she was over analysing again. she

decided to concentrate on reuniting

with her long lost best friend. She

smiled at Karla and asked how her

morning was and whether she had

already ordered.

"I have," Karla replied her latter

enquiry. "And I ordered you your

favourite full English breakfast."

"I'm glad you remembered." Alana

commented genuinely surprised.

Karla looked hurt by her comment.

"How could I not remember? We were

practically sisters in Mann, Lana."

Alana smiled gleefully hearing her

childhood nickname from Karla.

She was suddenly wrought with a

flashback of her adolescent years

where she used to be adamant on going

by "Lana" instead of her full name.

Overtime as she grew older, it confused

people why she would disown her

beautiful unique name to such a

basic one. And thus she discarded the

nickname and owned up to her full

name.

Alter une rooa was neauy placed

on their table with the appropriate

utensils, Alana took a bite of her toast

while Karla spooned her porridge.

"So, tell me," Alana began suddenly

after a few minutes of contemplating

whether it was appropriate to ask

her friend this. Curiosity was making

her very impatient and she needed to

know.

"..when and how did you fall in love

with your boss?"

Karla coughed, almost choking on her

mouthful of porridge. A blush stained

her cheek as she dabbed her mouth

with a napkin. Her watchful eyes were

bulging at Alana's daring question.

"Is it that obvious?" Karla seemed

mortified.

Alana's nose crinkled as she tried to

hide in her smirk. She nodded in reply.

Karla slumped back on her seat,

dabbed her blushing cheeks with the

back of her hands and pouted. "Well

then..you'll be the first to have noticed

and made a remark on it."

"Does he not know?" Alana asked

leaning forward.

Karla sighed in affirmation. "My

boss is..he is someone too busy and

occupied to be concerned for such mire

matters."

Alana frowned. "How long have you

known him?"

"Three years?"

Alana felt dread enter her heart. They

had history. This feeling unsettled her.

She quenched it quickly before she

could questioned what it meant.

"That long and he still doesn't know?"

"It's unrequited. He doesn't know how

I feel about him and unless I truly

confess, he will never know..." Karla

told her truthfully before she added,

".Alana, please I'd like to keep it that

way..I'm truly happy as long as I'm by

his side."

A concern wrinkled Alana's

expression. "You're happy that way

even if he never knows?" Alana

couldn't understand it.

Although she'd never fallen for anyone

nor experienced that heart-pacing and

gut-wrenching feeling of love everyone

talked of. She was very sure if she

ever did fall in love with someone, she

will let that person know soon as she

realised.

Karla nodded.

Alana contemplated on Karla words

and tried to understand this meaning

of love.

Karla saw her reflecting state and

smiled. "Unless, you're in my shoes,

Alana, if I try to explain you'll never

get it."

It was a very arrogant thing to say, but

she was right.

Alana was contemplating some more,

when Karla's spoon suddenly clashed

and cluttered on the porcelain bowl.

Her face blanched, however her eyes

were filled with horror and warning as

she stared in panic at Alana.

The ominous feeling returned as the

air of the cafe shifted. Alana felt as if

she was in dreamful daze, watching as

everyone stopped their movements.

What was more disconcerting was how

even inanimate objects defied gravity

by being suspended mid-air.

Everyone and everything stood at a

stand still, as if someone had stopped

ume ana Torgo avou nTer.

Then it happened so quick, Alana

thought she imagined it all. The man

she saw earlier with a death on his

eyes stood up and in seconds was in

front of her as if he'd flown. A sinister

smirk played on the corner of his lips.

If it were not for the malice in his eyes,

Alana would have appreciated his

handsome features.

"I knew you couldn't be a normal

mortal... the scent of your soul enticed

me as soon as you walked in." He

spoke, his voice tinged with deep

hoarse tone that made her shudder.

"What a shame though," He continued.

"My target was not you today, but since

you're with her, I'll have to take you

too... Maybe I'll stew up and gobble

you up later onwards. I could do with

an increase my strength..." He smirked

evilly.

".Since you're so special my Time

Halting spell didn't even work on

you. I'm sure my strength will triple

in comparison to when I consume a

mortal without essence." He spoke.

Alana couldn't understand the

sentences he was spewing. Mortal?

Time Halting spell? Essence? It was

odd because she felt shed heard

these words before, but as she tried to

recall where and when she couldn't

remember exactly where she'd heard

them before.

I must be dreaming again. This was her

thought as she watched the man's blue

eyes quickly change to neon red.

As if someone had struck a match, fire

quickly encased on his palms running

over his arms, shoulders and torso,

until it consumed his whole body.

Yet he still stood as if nothing was

happening.

Alana's chest rose with quick breaths,

fear rooting her numb. The heat

compressed her head again and she

felt a migraine brewing. After a few

second, she realised that the fire was

not incinerating him because he was

the one that was harnessing it.

"w-What are you?" She stuttered

through the terror.

"I'm your worst nightmare!" He leaned

down at her, the pernicious smirk

decipherable in his expression.

The flames blinded her eyes, the

bluest colour shaping a heart on his

chest. This flame came alive, pumping

hot liquid all over him, this liquid

hardened his body limbs as it travelled

all over him.

Alana could only watch-frozen in

terror-as the man slowly transformed

into a five meter tall monster, with hot

red stones for skin and fire red flames

for eyeS.

She fainted at the horror of it all.

***

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all thoughts! Really appreciate!

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