YET TO COME

CHAPTER SIX

...SIX...

~Backdoor, Silver Fire

(17th of February 2015)

Her scream was short lived this time around.

She remained wide eyed, heart heaving as she stared at him.

He gave her a smirk that made her regret the day she had first set her eyes on him.

Why was he doing this?

She wondered why he derived so much joy in startling the f*****g daylight out of her.

His innocent smile was what got to her as always.

And she was tempted to slap him till his sense came back.

She was sure he had lost them.

She sighed internally.

Now, that was something she didn’t normally think about.

She only ever got the urge to slap someone whenever she was around him.

She spoke so well whenever he was near her, something she couldn’t do with other people except family.

He was a bad influence and it was good that she knew that.

She had met him first in November after her second performance at Silver Fire.

He had been waiting outside the back door, just like now.

And till date, she still wondered how he had known that she was Samantha on stage.

She normally wore disguising makeup like other dancers.

The layers were always so thick that it could have been a plastic face and an eye mask.

And she performed with multiple coloured wigs that tended to make her look like a different person.

But when he had seen her here that day in all these, he had stunned her by what he did.

He had addressed her with her stage name.

Samantha.

She had been shocked to death because she knew without all those makeup and wig she looked nothing like Samantha.

Her first instinct has been to deny it at first just so he would think that he has made a mistake.

And he had let her be, even allowing her to guiltily skedaddle away like some thieving rat.

But, she regretted doing so that day, running.

She wished she had spoken in a confident voice and warned him not to bother her again.

As if he would have listened.

From what she has come to know if him, he was adamant.

And persistent too.

He had returned the night after her fifth dance.

She had been startled when she had run into him as usual here.

He had caught her in his arms with that innocent but infuriatingly mischievous smile on his striking face.

‘Samantha,’ he had said, ‘or should I say Chloe?’

To say that she was surprised at that would have been an understatement.

She was shocked.

Flabbergasted.

Astonished.

She was rattled and dazzled all at the same time that she shook.

‘How do you know that?’ she had asked in a small voice.

Fear had trailed over her features and left its signatures.

Her eyes had remained wide as several thoughts instantly began to cross her panicking mind.

Was he an assassin?

Had he come to kill her?

Had one of her father's enemies decided they wanted payback?

Had doom finally found her?

But hee had laughed while steadying her, his strong hands curving around her waist.

And she had known that he was no killer, or assassin.

But no relief had crossed her heart at that.

She had still been scared.

‘I always know what I wish to my sweet,’ he had told her.

‘Why?’ she wasn’t sure why she had asked him that question.

She hadn't even been sure of what exactly she had meant to ask him instead of that.

But he had understood her and gave a reply to her confused question.

‘Why?’ he had asked her with raised brows.

She had looked at him expectantly, unaware.

‘I want you Chloe that is why.’

His answer had left her bedazzled and befuddled, totally confused.

She had been quick to remove his hands from her waist and taken a step away from him.

Confusion had caused her to blink severally before speaking.

‘Why?’ she had asked him because she did not know the reason he would want her.

‘Why do I want you, you mean?’ he had asked.

He had taken a step forward.

His hands had come around her tiny waist once again, drawing her closer to him.

‘It is because you are you Samantha or is it Chloe?"

He paused to think.

He didn't come up with a suitable answer so he skipped it.

"You are beautiful and enticing Chloe, and all woman.’

Now, she was flummoxed.

Why?

It was because she wasn’t what he felt that she was.

She wasn’t Samantha.

She wasn’t beautiful, or enticing or even womanly in anyway.

She was the broken girl.

She a part of the prestigious Nwabuagu family.

Nothing good came from there.

‘You do not!’ she snapped disengaging from him.

Her eyes had been wide, her gaze burning with fury.

She was angry that he was daring to mock her openly.

‘I can assure you that you do not want me, whoever you are.’

He has covered the distance between them in other to look directly into her eyes.

‘You do not tell me what I want Chloe,’ he said to her, enunciating every single word.

He saw tears form in her eyes.

"I know what I want my sweet, and it is you,’ he said staring deeper into her eyes.

He noticed then that her brown pupils were contact lens.

Her eyes must be a different colour, he casually assumed.

Chloe closed her eyes and gathered her scattering emotions.

She needed to be composed.

‘You shall not want me, you will not want me and you must not want me because you can not have me!’ she told him.

She paused to catch her breath.

It was then she realized that she had just raised her voice at him.

And it was something that she had never done before.