UNCOUTHLY ATTACHED

UNCOUTHLY ATTACHED: 97.

Matan Fada, Katsina State.

"What are you doing here?" She heard a manly voice ask from above her making her heart beat palpitate. She thought everyone was fast asleep and no one will notice her perched on the bench in the small backyard. She was enjoying the sound of the night owls surrounding her.

"Just... uh, I couldn't sleep so I came out for fresh air." Too much answers, she thought angrily at herself then settle her gaze on the figure that loomed over hers before settling down on the bench keeping some distance away from them. Just good enough one to not be too close but close enough to hear her thin voice.

"Oh. Nightmares or just overwhelmed?" He hints knowing something just a little push to see if she is willing to open up.

Yazid saw the haunted look in her eyes when her stepmother called her a prostitute. He saw the way she looks wounded when the people around the village threw so many accusing eyes at her. She tried smiling forcedly which didn't suit her character at all, it clearly looks forced. From what Falak said about her, she has always being buoyant like Falak but the person he saw today is not anywhere close to Falak's lively self. She looks like a human walking on fire still afraid to get burnt when she gets comfortable on the coal.

"Something like both." She look at him again, seeing the beautiful Adonis's calm posture and handsome face. It makes her question, is he married too?

"Be pat be bobbe, Damn, they are all handsome." She whispered underneath her breath in fulfude thinking he hasn't heard her or he can't speak Fulani so he surprisingly chuckled, the sound sending jolts of warning current down her spine. She don't like being in men's presence at all but this man, he is entirely different. His posture, his smile, his structure is just something she can't ignore.

"Anfu a boddo, You are beautiful too." His deep Fulani accent whispered to her seeing her blush and look away then fiddled with the hem of her wrapper. She felt conscious sitting next to that man in some way. Why did she slip her mouth clearly knowing anyone could be Fulani and looks could deceive?

"Thank you." Her words came out breathy in a shiver. He only smiled gently surprising his own self with how calmly he smiles. It is something he only does in Falak's presence when she is being herself. She knows how to bring so much from someone when she wants.

"Tell me about yourself." He whispered few minutes into their silent conversation. None ready to break the burning tension in the air that hold secrets ready to be unraveled.

"There is nothing much to tell." And for some odd reasons, she didn't feel like skipping her life story and wanted to let him in, though not so easily.

"I want to know the not much." He insist, his eyes shining with humour when she pouted like he's caught her stealing. She almost stomped her feet feeling cornered by the Prince. He is smart, she will give him that.

"Well, My name is Marawiyyah Aminu Kura. I am twenty three years old, never married, raped so many times, beaten to death..." She kept quite when she felt his tensed posture beside her so she kept quite to let him sink in. He should take those first, she knew he would not want to know anything more about her, she wants to push him away with style.

"Go on, why did you keep quite?" His voice was gentle, probing her into continuing as he felt more intrigued than he's ever felt. He wants to find out everything there is to know about this broken soul that talks about horrendous events without flinching. Her eyes held no emotions, it was frigid and solid, letting nothing out.

"I was in the city for five or six years, I'm not sure. The first four years, I spent them working from one rich home to the other. A man came to my stepmother and ask her to let me go work in the city to get more money for her. He told her that he will be sending her monthly allowance every month that she doesn't have to see me all the time. Being the vile woman she was and still is, she agreed instantly and sent me packing from my own father's house.