Buer

CHAPTER 11 - A DAY OFF

After the long argument, Buer left saying that he will be back in an hour. In that time August took a long hot shower. Changed into loose track pants and a comfortable T Shirt. She was tempted to put on his t shirt again. It smelled so amazing. Realising that it would be really creepy, she wore her own clothes and put his to wash.

When he returned, August was surrounded by books. French was top priority. Followed by every other subject.

Thankfully she had the sense to check her phone. There were half a dozen calls from her friends. The most from Kevin. He also left a message saying that the old hag of French was absent. That allowed her a day more to finish her paper. Or at least start it. She also called Marcy and let her know that she was too hungover to come to school.

Staying alone in this house made her depressed. That led to a almost hundred percent attendance at school. She could afford to take a day off.

“That's wrong tense. It should be past present.” A voice above her almost gave her a heart attack.

“You door was open.” When she looked at, it indeed was. Sensing that it would lead to another long lecture she stopped it. “It's a safe environment with CCTV cameras everywhere.”

Buer sighed but didn't argue. “How did you manage to remain alive till now?”

“Because I'm cursed to live a long safe life.” She didn't even mean in a spiteful or sad way anymore. It was self pity. A condition she had accepted.

Thankfully, he didn't pry. Buer was dressed in different clothes. His jeans was replaced with loose cotton trousers and a half sleeves shirt. She bet that when he would fold his arms, his muscles would cause the shirt to almost rip from the seams.

“You are making me uncomfortable August.” She blushed. He blushed. He placed his bags on the floor. They looked like grocery bags. “Your fridge is empty ange.” It as true. August rarely cooked. It was only stocked with instant foods. Or when her Grandma was around. That reminded her that there were cookies dough batches left from last weekend.

“This is going go waste Buer.” There was fresh bread loaf from a nearby bakery, fruits, green vegetables, packet of pasta, cheese and milk. The only time she cooked was on Sunday. That too of there good food offers. Breakfast was just bars or cereal. Lunch was from school. Dinner from the bar.

“You need to eat healthy. All this junk food will not help you heal.” This was a typical lecture she got from everyone. Her friends, Ben, M, teachers, the neighborhood housewives.

“But it makes me happy.” It was her truthful response. Food was one of the few things that made her genuinely happy.

“You will always have home cooked meal once from now on.”

It was preposterous of him to even think like that. “You need to stop. We need to stop.”

This was getting out of hand. There was a stranger in her house who gave her a ride when she had a sprain. Provided magical chilly paste that healed the sprain. Took care of her when drunk. Got her groceries and promised her home-cooked meal once a day.

He was either her guardian angel or a psycho. Glancing in her past, she was sure it was the latter than the former. Guardian angels don't exist. Period!

“Who are you ? What do you want?” Buer's face scrunched up as she asked the question. “Please.” August wanted to know.

“I don't have any bad intentions towards you.” She scoffed at that.

“Who are you Buer. You are exactly at all the places that I go to. You're helping me heal a painful sprain with green paste. Buying me groceries and promising to take care of me like some guardian angel.” August had her hands in the air, trying to emphasize her points.

“You act like you are some guardian angel. News flash. They don't exist! So cut this bullshit and let me f*****g know what the hell do you want from me?” She was rambling towards the end. Desperate for any words from him.

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Buer was lost for words. He had expected this though. Yet was unable to respond.

He knew that she would not harm me. She knew he would not harm her. But how do you explain why a older man who was practically a stranger care about a girl he barely knows?

The animal in him knew the answer. She was his! Plain and simple. Explaining that to an eighteen year old would be a feat.

It also broke her heart when he heard her say a few things. Like how she was rotting away with the chemical food. She had no one to cook her a meal. Take care of her when ill. Food gave her happiness. Still most of her meals were taken when alone.

The most heartbreaking sentence was when August said that she doesn't believe in angels. How could she not?

She was a angel.

His ange.

“I am a doctor.” Buer started with the most obvious thing. The correct term will would be a healer. His powers would remain a secret to her till the time is right. “I came here to meet up my childhood friends. The once you saw last night. We do that once a year.” The friends part was negotiable. She didn't need to know that.

The last part of his explanation was tricky and he prayed that she wouldn't take it the wrong way. “You looked very sad the first time I saw you. The next day I met you at the parking lot. Seeing you on that ground hurt me in some way. I want to take care of you August.”

“Why?”

“Because you remind me of someone I loved long ago.”

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Buer looked so pained and so sincere that August regretted ever asking questions. It was clear that he was hurting. Just like her. He was lying. She hoped he wasn't.

“Okay. Just promise me that you won't end up kidnapping me to some remote place and keep me a prisoner there forever.”

Buer smiled. He looked gorgeous when he smiled. “Promise Ange.”

“Fine. Make me lunch now.”

The fine smell of cheese and cream spread through the air. It was almost one by the time she kind of finished the French essay. After tons of help from Buer of course. That guy was fluent in eighteenth century french. She silently thanked Jesus for sending him to her.

“Come on. Lunch is ready.”

August looked out of the window. The weather seemed pleasant. “Let’s have lunch outside.”

She took a small sheet from one of the cupboard and placed it on the ground as Buer brought the lunch out.

There was creamy creamy chicken pasta. With garlic bread and also a lettuce salad. She almost moaned as she had some pasta sauce from the bowl. Even the pasta had fresh veggies. Including broccoli.

“This is the best pasta ever.” She gushed with a full mouth. Hoping that he was no grossed out by that.

“I am happy that you are happy.” His sincere statement sent her in a frenzy. It seemed too cozy. Too romantic. Like a date.

August did the most common teenage thing. Ignore her emotions and focus on the delicious food.

Buer said that he had to leave again. He would be back for dinner. In that time, August did the dishes. Cleaned the sink area and backyard. Did some chemistry sums. Deciding that enough time was spent on academics, she resorted to her favourite activity.

Drawing. Sketching to be more precise. What she wanted to do in life.

After doodling around for some time, August started sketching the one thing on her mind since the past few days.

His square shaped face. That was the first point. As she drew, it was obvious that his face was too symmetrical. That explained the beauty. Them came the base sketch for the eyes. Green like the forest. Long eyelashes that could make girls jealous. Then came the nose. Thin nose. Followed by thin lips. Ears. Lastly the long luscious blonde mane. So beautiful with the brown highlights.

That then resulted in day dreaming. About an older man. Who was not interested in her that way. Wish that was enough to stop her hormones!

August heard the keys jiggling. This time she gave him a key. In the race to not look flustered she completely forgot about the sketch.

“I am sure look I don't look this good.”

Buer had her sketch of him in his hand. This was gonna be tough to explain.