Craig had respected the curfew to the latter; he'd taken her back home seven minutes to time. Four of which they'd spent walking the short distance he'd parked his car away from Eloïse's home. When she asked why, his retort was to spend a little more time with her hand in his. "How do you cope living here?" He asked. "In what context?" Partly conscious, as a result of his big hands warming hers in addition to the circles he made with his thumb at the back, Eloïse wondered. "It's serenity. A little too deafening." "I'm used to. Born and raised in it. What I find deafening is the commotion out of this area." No one spoke for a while. "Don't you admire such places?" "I do. A lot. I love me some alone time every once in a while just like I love some commotion." "How's that?" "It's the way I grew up; my mum was the quiet type and my dad, the calm irritated type. They didn't last long. Spent time fluctuating from one to the other. Eventually lost both and had to live with granny." "I
"Next," Troy, the photographer, said. "Tilt your head a little more to the left. Alright, perfect." "I thought he'll be here by now," Zaphrina worried as her eyes met her watch. "We are five minutes in. You sure he's not forgotten or something?" "He'll be here soon, mum. Perhaps something came up or he's caught in traffic," Eloïse shrugged and chuckled. "Funny how the roles have turned. Where's the mother who tells me 'a worried mind isn't healthy' hmm? And look at what you're worrying over, it's not even that much of a salient event." Zaphrina comported and focused on the photo shoot meanwhile, Eloïse faded away from the aggregate of photography staff to make a call. It had been ten minutes ago since she'd called Craig to no avail. Not known to be late, Eloïse, however, was certain he would show up since he'd assured her two days ago and earlier that day. She went to voice mail after two rings and wore the crown of persistence this time around. For the first time. Saints on her s
"I uh..." Craig soothingly tightened his grip on her fingers, rubbing them simultaneously. "I have to leave the country soon fo—" Craig's beautiful face instantly tensed, a conspicuous frown in sight. "How soon is that?" "Less than a month." Eloïse's eyes denied meeting his. "Sorry I interrupted. Please proceed." "My designs were exhibited to an haute designer who approved them and he's willing I work with him. So...yeah." She shrugged. Eloïse felt Craig's stare warm her face all through her little speech. "How long will you be gone for?" "Six months or so, I'm not quite sure." Craig pondered. "Is this the trivial situation you referred to?" Eloïse said nothing. "You assume you're insignificant to me?" She still did not speak. "Where is it?" "France." Craig sighed, "I have nothing to lose as of now. As much as it hurts to admit, I'm tremendously skeptical about getting this job any moment soon. Implying that I'll have to start applying for a job in France then." Eloïse would
"You see, even though Finna had her fair share of bad attitudes displayed, they weren't as bad as those the man she had come to love so badly had begun to portray; he didn't sleep home some nights and not because he spent it with another woman, no. He didn't show her affection anymore, didn't take her out on dates or business parties, he didn't eat at home, indulge her into conversations, and all that." "All these worried Finna considering that she had fallen too deep and madly for this man and could not picture a future without him. So she sat him down on a faithful day and asked him what she'd done wrong, if he didn't love her anymore. And if it were the case of the latter, she'll peacefully leave. Guess what he said to her." Eloïse shrugged "That he still loved her. So much even." "Then why was he acting that way?" Eloïse hastily asked. "'Cus she didn't show interest in things he was excited about." "Hm, that was...a silly reason to behave like an arse." "To you. You should
Hey beautiful humans. Welcome to The Chiseler BB4 (Blackbook 4) of the Woods series. Have you checked out BB1, BB2, and BB3 yet? If yes, congratulations🙂 if no, pls do check it out. Love you all much much. Your Author Zagzahzlau. ~••~ "The shade, tsk tsk, I don't like it," I said whilst punching my phone. My friends--Marila and Bennie--had managed to pull me out of my cocoon from the comfort of my beddings tenderness on a Saturday afternoon to the Mall out of my very own wish. Traditional purchase was my weak bone, but lately, I hadn't been in the mood for it for reasons not worth mentioning. Not yet. "Are you serious right now, Eloïse?" Marila scolded, resting both arms on her hourglass waist. "This is like...the twenty-third dress you are condemning without even sparing it a glance." For the first time in an hour did I lift my orbs off of my phone to collide with a furious set of hooded amber eyes. Marila was an exemplar of perfection; tall she was, with prominent curves an
2 years later. "What on planet Earth is this?" Eloise scolded no one in particular. "Because I said 'something colorful' doesn't necessarily mean I required a rainbow," she gripped a piece of fabric from a dress already fitted on a mannequin doll. "Look at this, where the hell is this cheap fabric from? I can't remember purchasing this. Jesus," She facepalmed. "Unstitch this. It makes no sense to the design and please be snappy about it girls." "You need to calm down Eloise." Her mum muttered from behind her in her usual soothing voice. Her dyed honey brown hair carefully knitted into a single French braid. She had on her warm smile-the smile which often interpreted her words-pasted on an ever-young-looking exquisite chocolate visage. Her mum was an independent and strong lady whom she had grown up to admire. She possessed a love which couldn't be extinguished. "Mum, you know I can't calm down," she scowled, making sure to pull the latter words. "The SS20 Fashion Show will be du
"Relax, Eloïse," Marila consoled, "don't be so rigid. Move around, get acquainted, drink more. It's my birthday and this is all I wish for," she suddenly feigned drastic sadness, "Unless...unless you don't want me happy tonight. I mean, I understand that--" Eloïse rolled her eyes, "ok, fine, fine. No need to be this dramatic. But I won't get that wasted. Dad wants me home in one piece." Marila squealed, swiftly kissed her friend, and snaked to a pool of boys seated at the far end of the dim room. Eloïse wanted to dot out. She didn't like the crowd, the ear-splitting music, the fact that she knew little to no one in the party besides her best friends, she hated the stench of alcohol as it only made her remember the puke she had seen and smelled earlier that evening. Now, she knew not if her absence of socialism was associated with the fact that her dad had begun depriving her of such two years before she hit puberty. Everyone knows how that period of one's life can take a pretty big
Eloïse sauntered into the kitchen, mesmerized by the sweet scent of vanilla-flavored pancakes, where she met her mum was serenely flipping through the pages of a magazine in front of a cup of coffee as always. "Good morning, mum," she kissed her mum and drove straight to the fridge, plucked out a bottle of fresh milk, and returned to the island. "Any updates on the show?" "Nothing worth the worry." She shut her magazine portraying a fishy grin that made Eloïse want to join her friends back in bed. The latter who had begun developing a nauseating feeling of paranoia focused her attention on anything else but her mum with a grimace yet a flush. Zaphrina hummed in one of her many subversive tunes, "What's his name? How's he? Did he ask you out?" She attacked. "Jesus, mum! I didn't even attempt to open my lips." "You didn't have to, your face said it all. Come on, sweetheart," Zaphrina nearly squealed. Again, Eloïse grimaced. Heaven knew how much she wanted to spend more time with