….in continuation of The Price #1
No girl in her right mind would walk up to a stranger and ask him if he was a serial killer. Only she could do that. He almost smiled at the thought.
“Well?” she said again and raised her eyebrows. “Are you?”
“What? No!” he exclaimed but tried to keep his voice low.
“Then why are you following me?” she asked and raised her palm to silent him when he opened his mouth to defend himself. “Don’t deny it. You and I both know it’s true.”
Yeah, it was true. Denying wasn’t an option. All he needed to do was come up with a good reason to convince her that he had no hidden agenda or some bad intention of harming her in any way.
“Look,” he tried to sound convincing. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. It’s not what it looks like. I was just sketching and….”
Think fast, moron!
His eyes went to the book on the table. “And I am writing a book!” he said. Fake interest oozed out from his every word but he just prayed she didn’t see through him. “Your appearance matches the profile of the main character. So I was making a sketch of her and that’s why I followed you. I am sorry I made you uncomfortable. But I am not a psycho stalker or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said in a rush and mentally kicked himself for not coming up with something better than this lame excuse. The wheels were already turning in her mind. The way her gaze had turned piercing was evidence of that.
Of course, she doesn’t believe me! I am such a fool.
He was about to speak again but she abruptly plopped herself down in the chair on his opposite side.
“Give me your sketchbook,” she said, reaching out with her hand. He could hear the annoyance in her voice. “I want to see. You made a sketch of me and now you owe me. The least you could do is show me your sketchbook and tell me about your book.”
He was just half listening. She was here, sitting with him and talking to him. He couldn’t believe it. Like always, he was lost in her exquisite eyes.
Too many emotions. His heart was bursting with too many emotions. His heartbeat turned rapid and it was an effort to keep breathing. He could smell her lavender perfume. So many memories assailed him at once. He never thought he’d talk to her again. The desire to ask her if she remembered him was strong to the point of making his heart combust. But he of all people knew the answer to that question. So it was pointless to ask her. It would feel nothing less than using his own hands to rub salt on his fresh wounds. By keeping his question to himself, he would do a great favour to his own sanity. He remembered her though. It would have been a mercy for him if he too had forgotten everything. But she was carved on his soul for eternity.
What was he doing? He was supposed to stay away. Even sitting with her right now was a big mistake. He was afraid. Afraid of answering, if she kept on asking dangerous questions. Afraid of what was in store for them, if he won’t be able to hold back anything.
* * * * * *
She didn’t believe him a bit. Writing a book? Really? On top of that he told her that he made a sketch of her. Was it too much of a hassle to ask for her permission?
I am sure he is lying about the sketch too!
He didn’t look like a dangerous person. But she wasn’t taking any chances. She would still scream if she found anything wrong. She wasn’t going to trust him so easily.
Really? Then why are you sitting with him? She asked herself.
Honestly, she didn’t know. Being in his company felt familiar. She knew she wasn’t making any sense by contradicting herself. But she couldn’t help it. It felt like an invisible string was pulling her to him. She wanted to trust him. Anyways, she would find out if he was telling the truth. All she had to do was see his sketchbook.
Her hand was still stretched out. But it looked like he wasn’t even aware of it. He was looking at her like he was looking inside her mind and soul. Like he was not seeing her face but seeing through her. But there was something on his handsome face that wasn’t there before. Just like bright sky getting cloaked by dark clouds all of a sudden. He appeared zoned out to somewhere unpleasant.
She tried her best to remain calm and jiggled her fingers to get his attention. He broke his stare and placed his sketchbook in her outstretched hand. His hand shook a little but he curled it into a tight fist.
TO BE CONTINUED
©sakshi~the escapist, 2017
Original image source: Open Church
Category: Story series
Previous parts: The Price #1