Fiesta

My legs stiffly draw upon the ground. My eyes are fixed, lazing through his glaring sight, which dims my thoughts.

“Cute” it slips as I stare into his golden brown eyes. I've never had a glimpse of such crystal shine, my mind gets lost in it.

Thane waves his hands, his fingers flapping over my eyes. My brain gets drawn back, my thoughts fading in, as my eyes fall from his.

I shut my eyes moving back, I'm a stuttering mess when I try to speak, but my panic holds me a bit in the shafts.

“Do you plan on ever giving an answer or should I ask again ?“ He questions, stepping in further, as he shuts the door, laying his back over the wooden board.

I let a sigh out in my head. My mind is at its wave as he stares down at me. Not only does his eyes fondle my brains, his presence thickens my toes, trampling over me, while my breath bathes in his musk scent.

“I'm Kelvin by name sir” I finally get to let that out, skewing through the other details, I am not on a track to mess myself up.

Thane screens through me. Folding his arms, he gazes at me for a moment without words leaving his lips.

“And that's all ?“ He questions with a wrinkling line appearing over his forehead.

“No, not really. I'm your personal assistant” I blurt out, almost letting out an awkward chuckle as my face lifts, forcing on the tension building beneath my thoughts.

Silence brews through his lips all over, while I stare blankly for some expression. He's blank, with peering eyes, which wouldn't fade, causing a rapture through my brains. Slowly, I feel myself sink, my thoughts scatter over the place, while I stand before my boss, letting him have a field day with my emotions.

“Okay, that's cool,” he says, turning away from me. He pulls the flank of his shirt, walking away, when I interrupt, stopping him midway.

“Sorry Sir, but can you help me, I think I'm lost” I say, while he turns towards me, flashing his eyes at me, before he rolls them in.

“Yours is by my right” he tells me, turning towards his course without much more to say.

I stand there moping for a while. That's too casual for what I had intended. I thought I'd get to meet someone much stiffened than he was. A cold badass, with some demeaning gaze, and strict words or no words at all. But he wasn't all that, not exactly what novels depicted multimillionaires to be, or was it the Nigerian difference ? Nah, we are prone to show off.

My breath falls once I turn, letting myself into my room. It feels relieving resting my back on the soft coated bed, as I fall in. I lay in, resting my head over my hands, as I stare over at the distant ceiling. A chuckle falls off in utter disbelief. I've met the popular man, and he's nothing like he's being described. Maybe, a bit of the cold aura, with a suit on, but that's the best it gets from what I was told.

My brain snags at me, trailing my eyes into rolling in. But then, it's just been a few hours of the day, and I barely know him. It might be too early to judge, so I might just hold back a bit.

While laying, lost in my head, I hear the doorbell ring. My brain gets swept back in, letting me off the man of the moment and back into my room.

“Who is it ?“

“You're required in the diner room” I hear a soft voice speak from behind the door. She seems young, probably the chef.

“I'd be right there, although I need some minutes to freshen up” I reply, with something almost slipping off my mind, but I recall in the nick of time “but can you assist me with the direction to the dinner room ?“ I request loudly, rising off my bed, and quickly making my way towards the door.

Yes, I was right. She's a young lady, probably the same age as I am, in her early twenties. She lets out a warm smile while she directs me, handing in her number, when I do request it.

“Don't get lost” she says, mildly winking at me as she twirls, walking out.

My mouth lets out a scoff. I think that was flirting, but I'm scarcely ever interested in such. I'm probably here to work and get my future intact, bag the connections, get the experience, and vanish from this pyramid of a home.

My head shakes at the thought of her gesture, someone's hope was gonna get dashed, but that's not exactly my cue. My hands pull at the door, slamming it shut. While I walked in, I threw off my trousers, pulling off my shirt, alongside the underwear I have on.

Picking my towel off the racks, I make for the washroom. My lips literally cave at the sight of its luxury. It's large, a spacious room, fit for a conventional self contained room. The rich truly do live in luxury, but also would a broke guy like myself, who has the pleasure of working for one.

In minutes I'm done with my hurried rush of a bath, stepping off the washroom, I pick up my nighties, wearing on its pants, and the soft cotton shirt over it, not caring to have anything else underneath both. Wearing a few deodorants comes in as a must, and soon I'm dashing off, using her directives to get myself to my destination.

I meet those wordless clouds again, the glorious display of meals lined over the table, while my heart fails at the sight of Mrs Samira.

“Good evening ma” I greet, standing fixed upon the ground.

I thought I was on a journey to meet fellow workers. Maybe the dinner room was meant for us, and some other place for those we work for, but how wrong does it get.

“Have a seat” her voice sings through my ears.

I'm left standing for a minute, almost rejecting her invite, when he stares up at me. Her eyes are fixed, while she pauses with her eating, and right then, my stomach growls, hitting my senses in.

My feet moves by the side, while my hands grab hold of a dinner chair, shifting it over, while I sit in it. The moment I'm down, I watch the maid move, her hands dishing my meal on a plate, while I try intruding.

“Umm, don't stress it, I can help myself” I say, almost rising, when her voice cuts through.

“No, you won't” she sternly revokes, forcing my back in. “Let the workers do their job, while you keep to yours” she says, while I mouth an apology, clearly not sure it was a necessary rule.

Her rants wouldn't seize, as I believe she caught my face making a scrowl while my mind had drifted. She goes on about rules, while silently he emerges out of the gloom.

Dressed in similar nightwear, he walks in holding onto his phones. Our eyes meet at instance, a cut cross of shiver running down my spine in s blink, but he turns his away, fisting his eyes towards the dinner table.

I feel the aura sink. Winter isn't a thing over here, but biting chills seem to tell a different tale, as he takes his seat right beside me. Mrs Samira stops, and I feel her breath go silent. Then I catch his eyes lifted towards her. His hands are gripping softly at the edge, with his eyes cutting through.

“Good evening ma” his voice resounds, choking my breath, as I feel its depths sink.

He turns away from her, his eyes fixed upon his meal, while mine stay lingering studying the lines of his jaw. He's fixed. A bit of novelty’s physical description, of jawlines and cheekbones, a pure bliss of a chocolate man.

“Is there something on me ?“ He slashes my breath with those words.

His eyes turn towards me and I know I might have lingered a bit too much. I feel the heat crawl in at his gaze, my breath breaking at the fluster of my skin.

“Not really Sir” I say, and he turns away.

“Then have your food” he says “and it's Thane” he tells me.

Not sure why he does so, cause I know that already, and I'm not so sure I would wish to call my boss by his name.

With my lips sealed, my sight lifts towards my meal. My eyes go shut, while I softly say the prayer before the meal. I feel his eyes on me throughout it all, lifting my lids, he mildly turns away not saying anything.

The rest of the meal goes on in silence, and soon I'm done, saying a prayer that comes after my meal, when I'm cut short by his voice.

“Remind me by morning to hand in the NDA” he says, rising, while my eyes pop open, with my brows lifting up at him.

“And why should that be needed ?“ I ask, having him glare at me mildly.

“You don't question your boss” Mrs Amira chips in before he's able to respond.

“In due respect ma, it concerns my job and I do have some right to ask questions” I respond, watching her eyes lift as the shock wave flashes through her.

Mr Amira opens her mouth to speak, when he clears his throat. His eyes are fixed on me, while I return the gesture, not relenting to seem not intimidated.

“Whoever works for me does so” he tells me “every man has a secret, and no one wants a chirping bird” he says, and I quite agree.

“Okay sir, I will do well to remind you” I say, lifting off my chair.

He lets no words out as he leaves. My eyes drift for a moment, and I see the server seductively gazing at him, while he walks away.

“Yeah, he's that handsome” I acknowledge, turning towards Mrs Amira, as I meet her eyes glaring at me.

“You shouldn't…” I slam my mental state, as she goes off for a rant. She's just like my mum, never ending bouts.