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Chapter 9 - [Part 2]
Saturday, May 23, 2009 @ 8:20 AM
I found myself staring at the beach villa for the second time. Although it was only my second, the familiarity it exuded was empowering.
The stunningly beautiful abode stood before me. Its white-washed walls called out to me as my eyes caressed the smooth planes along the shafts. The balcony was illuminated invitingly and the alluring steps leading to it felt like agony. The enchantment was unbearably enticing as I stared transfixed. The failing sunlight filtering on the doubled-storey heaven accompanied by the sunset made it a perfect picture.
“I love the graffiti you have at the back of the house,” I blurted out without thinking, only realizing it was too late the minute the words were out.
“Graffiti? How do you know there is?” he asked laconically.
His eyes searched mine as I hesitated in response. I shifted my gaze away, trying to avoid the impatience I detected in his appraisal. His sharp turn-away conveyed to me that something was amiss.
How could I have been so stupid? I felt like slapping myself then.
“I live around here and I walk past here in the mornings,” I lied.
It was such a bald-faced lie that there was beyond any hope of him believing. As expected, the look on his face told me he didn’t buy it.
“You’re a bad liar,” he said trenchantly.
“Thank you,” I replied curtly, staring imperviously at him. I could discern that there was a challenge in his gaze. An abrupt silence settled as we both struggled not to look away.
“You might like to try again,” he interrupted brusquely.
It was a failed attempt at trying to assuage the tense situation. I remained silent. However, when the steel in his eyes melted away to one of helplessness, I conceded.
“I, um, came here to watch you sleep,” I mumbled.
“I thought I saw you the other day,” he whispered in a note of confirmation, “but I thought it was a dream.”
“You were too beautiful to be real,” he continued in a hushed, placid manner.
A scorching fire threatened to envelope my cheeks as my brain registered his words. It was impossible. He did not see me. He could not. I was sitting by the window with already an invisible illusion I had conjured around me. There was no way he saw me! Unless. Could it be that there was someone working against me?
I contemplated in mortification as he beckoned me to follow him into the house. He gave me a tour around the house. Not forgetting to mention, showing off to me the art lining the walls of his backyard, empty of everything except for a single shooting hoop. A basketball lay in the middle of the dusty plot, looking intently at me.
His art was ferocious and loud. The splashes were extravagant and the colours used were bold. There was certainly an artist in him. I complimented him effusively, literally making him glow in delight.
The stairway leading downwards from the hallway was bewildering.
He had a basement. That was unforeseen. What was more astonishing was the indoor pool found here. I was impressed. It was unanticipated. Not for the very fact that he didn’t seem like someone who enjoyed swimming, but for what took me by surprise - the house had not seemed big enough to contain a pool.
Yes, it was unexpected. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant discovery.
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