“Most people aren’t really bad, you know”, she told him.
“If that is so, they don’t do a very good job of showing their true intentions”, said he.
“Why do you have to be so bitter all the time”, she was saying. He, however, was busy observing her. Her small lips were moving in circles as if her sentences had words with lots of Os in them. Her fake accent made her words come out all rounded. How he had hated the pretentious accents that were so common in his days! Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to even slightly dislike hers. He ended up focusing on her lips. The one thing he knew he shouldn’t have done.
Do I want to kiss them? He reflected. Out of love, he added hastily to his incomplete thought. He’d kiss them out of lust any time. That he knew very well.
“So?” she asked.
“I don’t care”, he said and he didn’t. She wanted to know what had hurt him so bad. The old story he had repeated so many times before people who had shown even the slightest of interest in him and his miseries but who like him had never really cared.
She didn’t insist though, which was odd. He was actually expecting her to show more interest than she had or perhaps that was what he secretly wished for. You don’t care he told himself again, and she shouldn’t either.
Both of them were now boarding their separate trains of thoughts. But soon they were interrupted. “A moment of peace inside your head”, he told her, “is too much to ask you know”. She smiled.
They turned around to find the source of the disturbance. A group of hooligans was standing a few feet away from them. They were shouting obscenities, most of which, were directed at him.
He looked at her. She was observing him.
When he did not stir and made it clear that he was not going to respond in any way, she rebuked him.
“Why don’t you respond to them?”
“I am out of credit”, He told her.
“What do you mean?”, she almost shouted, “They are standing right in front of you. What do you need credit for to retaliate against their insults?”
“I have nothing to my credit. A nobody like me has nothing to say to the people who have a lot to say about my character without even knowing me” was his reply.
She looked disappointed. “You are a loser”, she told him and stood up.
She is not very beautiful, he thought. Drawn to her full height and she was still a small awkward figure that leaned heavily towards chubbiness. Shoulder length, rough brown hair, a too prominent nose, and a pair of ordinary eyes always in need of some kohl to avoid looking dead. Ah but those lips, he thought. She was wearing a lilac T-shirt with grey trousers. Her brown leather handbag with the long strap was dangling from her right hand. It took him a few minutes to realize what she was about to do.
He had thought she was walking away from him because he had upset her but she was going over to the villains who were still insulting him.
“Woohooo”, one of them shouted, “So the pimp has sent his girl to defend him.”
He was on his feet now taking long strides to prevent any harm before it would be too late.
By the time, he reached there, it was already too late.
“That is all you got? In a fight, you guys would last even less than you’d do in bed”, she scoffed, “And with your tiny excuses of dicks, that would be what? Microseconds?”
“You bitch”, one of them screamed.
“This bitchy pimp’s girlfriend has more balls than all of you combined”, she retorted coolly, “So scram.”
To his utter disbelief, they did!
At that moment, it hit both of them. She is too strong of a person for a coward like me, he thought. What was I even thinking, she thought, fancying myself in love with a loser like him.
Walking their separate ways, they both decided to live happily ever after.