Kanyin
The large body of water is surrounded by flat plains and lush greens.
From afar, I find Terna lying on his back, a book in his hands, shielding his face from the view of the sky. I don't see a picnic spread out, no sign of a canoe or kayak to add to the romantic experience. My bar is in hell when I glance around the area for a fishing rod. If he has at least invited me out for fishing, I can overlook the fact that he made me dress up in a matching plaid two-piece set consisting of a black and white tight fit skirt, jacket with feathers at the hem, and a black bodycon crop top underneath. I'm dressed in Burberry and rode a bike in a skirt to sit on some grass.
Wonderful.
I lay Deb's bike down with the handlebars and pedals facing up. She said something about a kickstand, but I'm too irritated to figure that out now.
I clear my throat.
He instantly drops his book to the ground and sits up to meet me standing over him with a deadpan.
"Why did you send me a note?" I ask through gritted teeth.
His brown eyes are flecked with gold that radiates warmth around me.
"Say something," I order, crossing my arms.
He stands, dusting the grass from his black jeans and giving me a clear view of the black Polo that hugs his muscles, defining the lines that design his belly. My daydreams were right, he does have abs.
"How can I?" he asks in a silk-smooth voice bringing my attention back to him.
"How can you do what?" I ask, my brows knitted.
He smirks. "How can I say something when you're dressed like your sole mission is to mess with my head?" he asks, inching closer to me, his addictive scent taking my nostrils for a waltz as he nears.
I take a step back, willing myself not to fall prey to his distracting eyes or sweet words. I'm mad at him, and I'm going to stay mad at him for however long.
"Well, you're wrong. I dressed for me, and if you don't have anything important to say, I'll be leaving," I say bluntly.
As I turn, I realize how intentional this boy is about his actions. He doesn't grab my hands, elbow, or even my jacket. He places both hands on my hips, pulling me into his soft chest.
Oh for God's sake.
"Wha-what are you doing?" I ask, my gaze darting around his face as I struggle to process how firmly his grasp on my hips is.
"I'm sorry. There was clearly some miscommunication on my part, hence your outfit. If you thought this was going to be a date that can be arranged. That can happily be arranged," he says in a raspy voice.
I nod, unable to speak just yet.
"We can do dinner," he says, gaze heavy-lid.
I nod.
"Expensive," he continues.
I break my silence this time. "Will you reserve the entire place?"
He breaks into a grin. "Of course. Just you and me. Who cares about other people who have made reservations and have lives?" he teases.
I roll my eyes, untangling myself from his hold before settling on the grass in a side-saddle position, my legs to one side and my feet pointing behind me.
YOU ARE READING
The Soles Of Damini Manor
פנטזיהFifteen-year-old Kola Damini thought his greatest worries were surviving crowded spaces and bickering with his diva of an older sister Kanyin-until his Mom mysteriously vanished without a trace. Like every other strange family, his workaholic Dad wh...
