Finding Contentus

Chapter 162: Recall

Damn. Ayata felt like he was the richest man alive. No one could touch his wealth. He couldn't believe it. This had to be the best day of his life. Ever! He was out of his damn mind by the time he got to Enrile's temple. So much so that he didn't notice Amon's departure upon landing.

Damn. Ecstasy filled every alleyway of his mind. There was a spring in his step as he approached the main entrance with a rewarded smile, a swagger to his casual zero fucks given walk that raised eyebrows from those who watched him, unacquainted with his expression when it wasn't contorted by anger. Damn!

"Neo heard you the first time. How many dams are you going to damn until they burst or dry out?" Neosa chastised with an amused snort.

Ayata rubbed his hands like a child about to unwrap their gift. "Do that again."

"What? Snort?"

"Yeah. Snort again."

Neosa made a strange face. "What's wrong with you?"

"C'mon porky. Just do it. You sound funny when you snort."

Neosa made a sound like she was a fat pig snorting snuff into her nostrils.

Ayata whistled like a well-known womanizer in the streets. He smiled as though he'd just been rewarded, activating all the muscles across his face, swept under the rush of dopamine in his brain. "Now you sound like pork chops sizzling on the frying pan."

"I feel like pork chops sizzling on the frying pan," Neosa admitted, fingers tracing her tiger stripes. The tapestry of tattoos across her skin still stung as if she'd been attacked by a swarm of honeybees. She started laughing uncontrollably for the next two minutes or so. Some buffoon was busy tickling her. "Ayo!"

"What's up?"

Neosa gasped. He stole Minaleese's tickle-tackle technique right under her nose. "How dare you use my mother against me. Asshole!"

"Ace in the hole." Ayata looked at his fingernails like he was admiring the polish there. Until he heard the inklings of a scream about to be unleashed in his head. "In my defence, you left the pockets of your nerve receptors wide open. Can't expect me to just ignore the goldmine Maaleese stashed in there."

"Tsek." She brushed him off.

"Now that's not nice."

"You're one to talk. I'm still waiting for you to drum for me, haow!"

Ayata drummed a lacklustre performance like a street urchin banging on buckets. No rhythm. No skill. Just trashy noise. "There. Happy Neosey?"

"Saaaaaaley. That doesn't count. Give me proper drumming. With proper drums and proper enthusiasm." Neosa grinned like a seductress that was used to getting what she wanted. She bounced her chest. "Neo says she'll dance and sing for you if you play for me."

DAMN! Ayata had to bite his fist. His imagination was already running wild like a thirsty hare in the desert. He was about to poke fun at her for resorting to such cheap tricks to get him to fold, until he detected the low swing in her mood, alongside the neurotransmitters for wound healing. 

He bared his teeth as if bracing to be stabbed. "Ay ay ay ay. When did you get cut?"

Neosa touched her forehead. Her fingers came back, bloodied. "I'm not sure."

Ayata's irritation swelled, grinding prior joy to paste and contorting his expression back to its accustomed stormcloud. "You don't even sound fazed. I swear if this is another one of Maroth's sick—"