The talk II

Forcing himself, his body and will, he turned to her and let the words leave his mouth. 'I promised a talk with you'. He searched her face for an inkling of worry or anxiety as per the expression on his face. He was stunned when he saw her relaxed with only her eyes dispatching curiosity.

His eyes deserted her to linger on the road before closing them in an attempt to regain composure of his body, his mind especially. 'Fred, are you okay?'. Diva's soft, melodious voice reached him, carrying her question with it. At the same time he heard the car's door opening.

Fred opened his eyes and turned to her. Embarrassment filled his face as he looked on her. His pupils went wide as he took her image in. His hand reached for the key again in the lock cylinder and turned it, hitting his head as he tapped on some buttons in the dashboard. Oh Lord help him!. He should have been more careful and avoided being anxious.

'Please close the door. I'm so sorry'. Diva reached for her door and closed it again.

The air in the car turned cold, elucidating the sweet smell that wafted from the air freshener.

'I'm so sorry'. Fred apologized again as he handed out his handkerchief to Diva again. She nodded in acceptance and dabbed it on her face. The globules of sweat that sat on her face were gradually absorbed by the piece of cloth.

'I guess next time, you will control your negative emotions and not let them pour out on another person'. His face reddened, he was discomfited by her words. He took the handkerchief and tucked it in his pocket. Turning the key, but not switching it off, Fred let it run on the battery source.

'I was anxious. That's all'. Diva could hear the irritation in his voice but she did not relent. Not when he had started to show the baby face he usually make when he was abashed or weary. She loved it now. A payback for all those negative emotions he made her go through. Hahahaha!.

'Anxious?. Why?'. Fred did not fail to notice the mocking tone she used to convey her question. He could only sigh and shake his head. She knew the answer to her question. She strove to pull at his cords.

'I'm serious. I just want to know why my indomitable, strong-willed cousin, became anxious all of a sudden. One minute he says he want to talk and the next it gets all hot and scorching. How am I sure that my hair did not get burnt in the process?'. She tilted her head sideways and brushed her hair from the back to the front, attempting to comb at it with her fingers for any burnt strand or shortage whatsoever.

Fred did not need to turn his head in a full direction. He just strained his eyes a little to the right and after seeing the state of her hair, looked ahead at the road again. 'Your hair did not get burnt'.

She turned to him, taking notice of the annoyness in his voice than the words he spoke. He was facing the road, his hands held the steering. She saw from the side, the redness in his eyes and felt the warmth in the car. The redness in his eyes got redder. It was like a battle between heat and cold. She took a deep breath and hugged his side profile, resting her head on his collarbone.

'I'm sorry Freddie'.

Fred froze. Her apology seemed to have sipped in the heat which enveloped the car. Diva was hugging him. She intiated the hug. He screamed in his head.

Letting go of the steering wheel, he patted gently on her hand. Diva heard him hissed. 'It's okay. Let's talk before your father meets us here'.