Hello people, it has been a while since I wrote fiction. I hesitated before sharing this one; but why not? This is a platform for growth, learning and sharing my art. It may not be perfect but with every deliberate attempt at a stringed sentence comes progress. Please read to the end and share your thoughts☺️?
‘Stop looking at me like my eyes hold your child hood dreams’
Dave paused, unsure of how best to respond to Amaka. It was not a wrong accusation, it was a sweet one he would willfully wear like a badge across his chest; but she had told him time and time again that it made her scared.
Was it not amazing the things that scare people?
What was there to be afraid of? he had wanted to ask, but decided to leave the conversation for later.
Maybe now would be a good time to bring that up, to probe for specificity on the exact face of the things that scared her.
Was having eyes that hold a person’s child hood dreams that frightening? Or was it the weight of something else she hadn’t even quite figured out yet?
The room was misty, making the single source of light rays cast a silhouette of them on the wall just beside the picture frames.
He wondered how many seconds had passed since the silence and how he had managed to keep his eyes fixed on the shadows on the wall…two giant sized beings whose every move looked like an exaggerated dance, something out of the ordinary.
Her eyes did hold many things, and he wondered if she knew that even when her voice was a shy whisper of “I’m fine” to questions about her well being, it was easy to decipher that fine was really far from it.
‘Amaka, I’m sorry,’
‘You just said you didn’t like the way I looked at you’
‘No, I didn’t say that’
‘Okay, you implied it.’
‘Thing is, I’m just worried about you, about us?’
‘I’m fine Dave, I keep telling you, that I do not enjoy being treated like a charity project. I can take care of myself, what is it about us?’
As he now thought about it, the “about us” part was uncalled for really, it had spewed past his lips like a stubborn baby making a crawl for a broken piece of a biscuit on the floor.
The bad thing about bringing up the “us” conversation now was that it would automatically create a string of awkwardness. Now what was he to say about “us”?
‘Err, Amaka, I’ve been your friend for a year now and all I’m asking is that you give us a chance.’
Did she smile? he wasn’t sure what the change in her facial expression was but there really was a change for even her shadow readjusted as if calling for his attention.
‘Dave, I told you I’m not ready, I like things just as they are…safe.’
He leaned closer and pulled her face upwards as if that would make him see deep into her secrets and the one he sensed she was hiding
‘Do you not like me?’
‘Ooh, let’s not go here now, I like you very much…I’m just not sure?
‘Sure of what?
‘If you are worth the stress?’
‘Amaka, I said I love you and I want you to give us a chance?
What has love got to do with stress?
I am offering you sweet and you are talking about bitter leaf, I see no link’
She started to speak, then stopped.
She removed her hands from his, stepping back as though retrieving whatever piece of her heart she had let stray into his hands. She had suddenly become conscious of the warmth of his skin against hers.
Too close, for comfort…
Too close for convenience and next thing you know, he would start reaching for places on your body, taking the proximity as permission.
‘I’m listening he beckoned, you were going to speak’
‘Yes, see I’m not ready for a broken heart, you may not intend to now, but you really are going to leave me eventually.
‘I know it like the back of my palms, that you would wake up one day and realize that I am not enough. I am not ready for that arrangement.’
Her certainty scared him, yet he was thankful for this was a gate finally opening, a wall cracking slightly letting new air in.
This moment held her vulnerability and truthfulness like a precious stone.
This right here was a small victory dance, for she always acted strong, not moved by fickle feelings, never revealing much about the thoughts of her heart.
‘I promise I’m not like the rest.
’I know you have been hurt in the past, but what if you give me a chance to prove that I mean no harm.’
His voice surprised him.
This woman had drawn a side he didn’t even know existed out of him and there she was standing, not really interested in walking this mountain after coming this far .
God knew he loved her, yet she was not making things easy at all.
On some days, he thought there was progress because she would be this little princess, charming; totally head over heels and happy.
These were the days that came with angels bearing the good news of a whisper in his heart, that there was progress,
that the walls were falling,
and soon, very soon, growth would be undeniable.
But other days, it looked like she had grown new skin, hard, not letting anyone in.
This love, sometimes felt like a battlefield, but he was sure.
undeniably convinced that it was worth it.
The battles, the time, the poring beneath the walls to see what lay beneath.
This love was worth heaven’s sacrifice.
Ps: What do you think? Leave your comment, point out corrections, let’s have a conversation ?