Surprise! I realised that it's been a while since we had a Sunday Surprise, hence this update. I hope you enjoy XD.
Monininuola our newest reader, this is for you. I saw your votes and I appreciate them♥♥
Happy Reading!
____________________________________
Mosọpẹ stared at Anjola as she laughed heartily. A scowl marred his features as he looked on, clearly annoyed.
"Why are you laughing? Pray tell, what's so funny? Are you not supposed to be insulted that I hit the nail on the head perfectly?" he asked, feeling sour.
Going through and recounting every nibble of his past had taken a toll on his heart, taking it through a rollercoaster of emotions: guilt, shame, anger, sadness, regret and a host of all other emotions.
He was trying hard to bounce back to his brittle, harsh personal, so that the lady wouldn't see him as weak, or in need of help.
Though he wasn't totally positive that he hadn't already managed to achieve exactly that.
Her chortling reduced to chuckles; and she shook her head with a small smile. "Mr Man," she paused to giggle a little, and his scowl deepened the more.
"Seriously? That's what you think of me?" she asked, incredulous. "You couldn't be any more farther than the truth."
Rolling his eyes at her words, he replied hotly: "That one is your business. You asked me a question and I answered honestly. Now you're laughing one stupid laughter that I don't understand."
She sobered up quickly and gave him a playful stare. "Okay, you've said your piece, so it's my turn to convince you now," she started, drawing out her words.
He scoffed. "Please, tell me something new. I don't have all day, you know?" he asked rhetorically.
She mock glared at him and said: "Shush Mr Man, and allow me to talk."
In response, he grumbled some unintelligible words, but swallowed further complaints.
"So, I've got a story of my own to tell you. Not a bedtime story, or anything, but this is my own story," she announced.
Mosọpẹ did not know what to say to that. He thought she was going to preach to him only. But apparently, she upped her game.
I can handle it, he thought. He couldn't imagine what she'd say that could really surprise or move him.
She fixed him with an expectant look when he remained silent. "Well? Get on with it," he responded to her silent prompting, with a dissatisfied grunt.
"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "Very contrary to your judgements, I can say that I'm not as you've painted me to be," she said, the both of them clearly aware that she was stalling.
"Tell me something surprising," he retorted dryly.
She audibly breathed out, and he thought, what's wrong with this one?
Holding up a finger, she rummaged in her small clutch and brought out one sachet water. "You care for?" she asked, calmly.
"No, I don't," he gritted out, wondering why she was drinking sachet water. Even he couldn't drink it, because he couldn't bring himself to trust the handling of the nylon used to bag the water.
She shrugged and guzzled the water, leaving half of it untouched. She placed it by her side and wiped her mouth for stray drops of water.
"Sorry about that," she said, not looking sorry at all. "While you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, I grew up on the other side of the spectrum," she started.
YOU ARE READING
The Bridge|| Completed✓
General Fiction"Can I help you ma?" He asked. His voice was scratchy and low and his tone rang out as sarcastic. "What do you mean by 'Can I help you ma?'" she asked him in incredulity. "I said what I said. Now what exactly is your problem?" He asked, obviously no...
