Vicariously Yours,

Readily (not) Yours

Disclaimer- This is a work of Fiction. Name, character, places and incidents are either product of author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved.
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Shiny and bald. It glimmered and the small bulbs stuck onto the ceiling reflected the shimmering surface from it.

Isabella sat at the one seat table far into the corner of her favorite sushi restaurant, Mojo Omakase. Seated from a great distance, she could see him in clarity.

That bald haired man of mystery.

Playing with her chopsticks as she waited for her order to come, her eyes went back to the glass window at her side that reflected the streets of New York lighting up outside. Colour of life and full of energy was always the definition given to New York.

But to Isabella, it was where she was born.

Wondrous land of dreams and possibilities and filled with things she always loved. Her heart was here in New York City. She was born here and will die here.

She looked back at him, again. Unable to discern the impulse to stare.

He was ...so big. Bulky like some bully. His black hoodie hung loose over his body as he leant down to snatch the sushi roll into his mouth.

Lips that were thin, not full yet the appeal of it was sort of attractive if one is into that thing.

Isabella shouldn't be thinking this. She could see clearly he was on a date. A gorgeous brunette sat on the opposite side of him, her dress made of sheer silk red that covered her, showcasing her curves.

Isabella looked down at her own custom made traditional black skirt and her usual pink ironed shirt, though the crinkles began to wind over her sleeves. She hated crinkles.

Smoothing it, she saw the waiter heading towards her with a round plastic maroon tray brought over his shoulder. Fucking Finally.

She eagerly sat up straighter, her mouth salivating as she waited for him to come to her table. Except he bypassed her, taking the tray of food piled up along side with sauces to the other table sitting diagonally to her.

She sniffed, angrily. Her stomach gnawed for its sustenance and she wanted to pat her tummy to wait for a while.

When she swung a look back to the man of mystery, she was stunned to find his gaze locked on hers.

Oh my. It was one thing to be an outsider and be unnoticed as she watched but being included into it, Isabella got rattled.

Only this time, it made her...acutely aware of every particle of her body. She couldn't discern the color of his eyes but they were intense. She knew only few men who could really pull off the bald look and this man of mystery slayed it straight way to heaven.

She didn't know why she kept calling him in her head man of mystery. He seemed to her that he was hiding something.

As a psychiatrist, she was involved in the process of understanding the study of the human mind.

She tries her best to help her patients facing psychological problems. These days, the mind becoming your enemy has an unstoppable fever which could go to a great length of becoming a complete different undesirable person. She dedicated her life to psychology and the human mind and went on becoming a treater of that mind.

Isabella must have realized that she had gone into her day dream mode and instantly looked away when his brows drew tighter like he was disturbed by her direct eye contact. Trying not to touch her hair to improve her hair's well being, she coiled her hands onto her lap, taking in the street outside once again.