Falling For Purity

chapter 1

Eugene's POV

Alex is handsome, with those dreamy eyes, that awes everyone with a live  sparkle. A sparkle that darts away with a calming effect.

His gaze could cure depression.  And other  uncountable  tropical diseases.

He is tall, so tall, but not tall enough to pick a golden ring from the moon. He is enough to massage biblical Goliath's bald.

His complexion is fair. When he talks, you will find his voice deep husky but steady.

With a controlled tremor curled through the voice. He would say

"hey bad boy ,sit down"

and the bad boy in the gang will s**t his way down.

But Alex isn't that commanding bad-ass. He has his s**t together. He is a charger. Okay, he is a charmer.

A charmer with cool jokes. He also has dark jokes, but he keeps them reserved.

Don't call his lips fluffy, though they gleam away with assuring warmth. Someone, a lover, could kiss them and drink confidently from a spring of Love.

Kissing is an experience, that always get better, it might not secure you any job, but gives a lover a platform , to explore  deep into another soul.

Kissing is a slow passionate romantic move. If your partner sticks tongue into your jaw, or stroke your molars , then that becomes a special case. 

Its a case of extreme canal attack. It might require the intervention of court of law. There's nothing disgusting as a terrible kisser.

He loves his whisky cool measured and flavored. He isn't a buffoon chap when it comes to fashion. He is not that crazy hunk who can appear in an underground carpet meeting in sneakers and a boxer. A boxer with a terrible picture of a cartoon.

He nows what to clad  on every occasion. In short, he deserves the adjective modest to describe his dressing code.

He has a girlfriend. Because when you are handsome, you attract all the matters of heart. 

But when you are ugly, you have to believe in yourself.  That its okay if  the world fails to appreciate your kind of beauty.

But you have to be confident enough to  survive. To thrive and prosper in world of  cameras and filters.  At least you are original and private enough, so that nobody can be you. They will fear to be you. That's your weapon. For you are "fearfully" and "wonderfully" made.

You also have to  make money, they might show zero interest on your face but look, if your wallet is heavy then might tempt the ladies to think twice.

And finally, confuse your ego, let it know that its okay to buy a dressing mirror. That it wont change anything in the ground. Its okay.

Lexy is a simple a guy. He goes for what he wants with zeal and enough passion. He doesn't go to church always, he attends special Catholic masses. He  might show up in church when a new Bishop is being welcomed in a holy mega bash organized by faithful legions.

I left out an important detail. Okay I recall, that fuckin imperative note. You see, the first thing he does early at dawn is to pee (handsome guys do pee, haha). He goes to pee before washing his fine face. Then he is good to go.

Can I tell you a secret? Okay breathe in, hold on, pinch your whatever, breathe out and smile. Alex is an introvert. A wounded introvert. Do you have any idea of how a wounded introvert looks like? No? A wounded introvert has a closed sullen face. Rarely smiles, read dark stories. Stories of mono eyed villains . Stories of ancient ghost houses and shattered hearts of the hapless in love.

He met a voluptuous chick on his third year in high school. The girl was then in form two. Looking fresh and rolling with elegance and grace. With hourglass figure. And that catchy smile, that volunteered every time to burst her face with flash of live and energy. A fire smile that could start a world war. Or worse enough to let your phone hung when you resolved to catch up for a selfie with her.

It was during a school outing. A history club outing. His performance in the subject was outstanding. He loved fossil and artifacts. Alex is a guy who would camp in an archaeological site meditating with medieval history. He had visited several times the popular archaeological site in Kenya, Fort Tenan , more than he had gone to Nairobi city.

He read a lot of stuff. Darwin's theory intrigued him. He even tattooed the historian Charles Darwin on his wrist. A smiling historian clutching a fossil taking a selfie.

He loved examining fossils. He could tell Homo sapiens from the texture of the fossil. He is the guy who would look at the fossil sigh and say " These fossils are pretty good and will attract good likes on i********: better than in the Museum"

He was chilling at the dinning hall after a two hour discussion. At Rolex Girls High school. A very cool spacious hall. With a career compass hanging on the wall, like Jesus Christ on the Cross. A pretty inscribed wall clock toked away with an attitude minus an accent.

A hall with giant Samsung TV. Girls were at the juncture were dancing to hip pop beats. Twerking . A little grinding was there. Alex watched the girl dance, in a fluid controlled movement. She dropped it down her heavy candy apples, in a stunningly spellbinding rapt.

He saw a personality, in her dance. They later had a chitchat in the field. Under a cool minetoka tree. The chitchat turned to a lively chatter. She giggled to his jokes. His pickup lines well polished.

" Hey, you are you are so beautiful, I mean you are just wow" he told her.

" Thanks" she had replied

" Do you shower in a pool of lotion?"

" What do you mean?"

" Okay, look at your skin, soft with the glow of chocolate"

Her smile was juicy, tender and sexy. Had a special gap, special creation so artsy in her upper jaw. She had Chelsea eyes, blue and ringed back to infinity. A girl of chocolate skin and kind back. Her bum banging the horny eyes of dicktators.

She stirred the poetry in the chamber of his heart. Launched literal war of rhymes and repetition. She irrevocably fell for him. They hugged and kissed . Laughed and loved. Then those empty romantic stint moments. Where they just stared into each other, feeling good.

At vespers, as she strolled with him to the awaiting school bus, he assertively confessed that she was such a great conversationalist. He claimed to be a textrovert, who abhorred ordinary conversation. She loved wild chat. A great dancer, with a simmering ass. ( Okay, he didn't actually talk about her ass , kidding)

He reclined in the bus seat. Their bus with a nickname, Baby Babel. He watched her walk back , her back wiggling. Inviting wiggle.

One love letter followed after the other. Love letters, that smelled couple kissing in the rain. Letters that made you think of a newly wed couple making love in a rambling train. She declared his unswerving loyalty to him. She wrote him more quotes " trust is like virginity it's broken once"

Her letters were special, they had a special cologne. Cologne from Zanzibar island. The ones able to caress the interior of your nose until you bleed. Ooh no ,I meant the cologne that hits your nostril and makes you think of rainbow.

He responded to her letters in equal regards. Made sure the writing was mellifluous. Legible hand writing, the kind of writing you would find in the eternal book of Life. He wrote in the morning preps. When the world was little crisp and tranquil. Alone on his locker. With enough personal space to get a little dirty.

He would then talk of her stupendous beauty. How the kind of beauty has crawled into his mind driving him nuts. He would remind her the kind of song that get pinged in his mind when he is thinking of her. Then finally dedicate her a love song. It could be two love songs with with words of right magnitude. Always felt like drawing cartoon at the end of every letter but never did it. Perhaps it wasn't cool enough.

On the point where he had creatively stretched the poor innocent letter into a dirty stuff, he would start with a disclaimer; Hey little kinky, this one could blow out the stalking nose of your friend if you share. Just mind to save her well inclined nose,ok!"

They met over the holidays. Alex introduced her to me one evening in my random cycling spree. " These is Eugene. He is a budding blogger" he told her.

" He writes on internet. Google knows his finger prints." He had added.

She had bashfully smiled. I had asked her name. " Purity" she had said with honeyed timbre. As if the name had some connections with heavenly angels.

" Pleasure to meet you Pury , Lexy has been really talking about how cool girl you are but I realize you are hot."

Indeed she was hot. Hot like magma( wink here). As I cycled at Eastleigh street in town that evening, she centered my fantasy.

As I washed my face early in the morning , I felt her presence in the steely water.

As I looked myself in the dressing mirror, to check if my nose had relocated to my forehead over the night, she was there. Inside the cool mirror. Winking at a silly idea bubbly in my mind.

I saw her gleaming in the morning dew. Beaming with a silver smile. Like she resided in a world where honey and chocolate was their only stable food. Where water tasted iced lemonade.

" She is a stuff men. She is a catch . A candy queen. A beauty doll" uncultured demons whispered t o my mind.

Alex was my cousin, I couldn't hit on his girlfriend. Okay let's agree here, I could hit on her under the evil influence of booze.

As I chilled in the coffee shop the other day in town ,thinking of blogging ideas, also eavesdropping on conversations, inside I felt horrible. Horrible like I had slept in a fluffy bed of assassin bedbugs. I missed Purity, but why did I missed her? She couldn't be my girlfriend. She was already my cousin's best friend.

As I watched people deep in an idle chatter in the shop, a little wave of jealousy crept and crawled into my bones. It was inevitable. Its true Purity is super hot and catchy. Catchy than all of my blog post.