CHAPTER FIVE

Beverly kept staring at Bryan, especially when he looked absent-minded. She couldn't get enough of the man sitting across her, even though she knew virtually nothing about him. For all she knew, he was a serial killer or worse, he had a wife and kids somewhere. She didn't ask because she didn't want to know, the pang that went through her heart at the thought of him being with somebody else was alien to her. She never pined after boys, it just wasn't her. Why then was he disorienting her immensely? He didn't have to use many words to get through to her, he just did, effortlessly. It was as though she were an open book and he was perusing the pages. She didn't want him to stop, couldn't tell him to stop. She loved how he made her feel like she was worth listening to, listening to her rambles and picking sense out of it. There were so many things love about him, so many that she didn't even know when to start. It was more the fact that he was thoughtful, she could also tell he was intelligent too. More than the fact that he was sensitive, he was a listener too. He didn't fill the air with empty words that made no sense, his words carried a weight she couldn't even begin to decipher. She wanted to watch him talk, for no reason at all than to admire him undisturbed, uninterrupted. He was like fine wine, no matter how much she stared at him, his beauty didn't fade.

"Okay, I've braced myself. Let's hear it for Bryan Roland, the masterful storyteller."

Beverly clapped as she spoke, giving catcalls too. If there was one thing to be known about Beverly, she was fun to be with. There was never a dull moment with her as Bryan was starting to see.

"Well, don't expect anything spectacular, I'm not that much of a storyteller myself." Bryan tried to downplay it but she knew the truth, one that he didn't; Whatever it was that he said, it was art to her.

"Just tell the story already, I've grown old from waiting." She pouted as she spoke and he looked at her with incredulity and shook his head from side to side in bafflement. She was unlike anybody he'd ever met and it fascinated him. The way she acted, so carefree and playful, so real. It was more like he was seeing for the first time, just how beautiful human interactions could be.

"Okay, okay. As Her Lordship pleases." He teased as she folded her arms in mock annoyance. She was like a flower, beautiful to see, even more, beautiful to hold and when it's smelt, it's a burst of fragrance. She reminded him of a rose, slowly unfurling in the sunset.

"Good." She brought out her tongue at him and he shook his head, trying to hold in the laughter that threatened to spring forth. She made him feel young again, like a child playing in the middle of a garden. With her, he felt like he had what it took to do whatever he wanted to do, no fear whatsoever. She was a kind of beautiful he'd never seen before, a kind he didn't know if he'd ever see again. Finding her was no mistake, he was dead sure of that. But then in order to be sure, he needed to tell her his story. It wasn't a bad story per se, it just wasn't a happy one. But he wanted to watch her while he told his story, to see the expressions that'd cross her face. Only then could he decide what he had to do after.

"Okay, here goes. In a faraway land, there lived a boy who loved the sunsets. He'd chase it till it faded from sight on most days and on others, he'd just watch as the sun slinked into the clouds. It was his favorite past-time, watching the beauty of the sun. No matter how much his friends tried to get through to him, he never let anything distract him when it was time for the sunset. After a while, they knew him as who he was and they stopped trying to get in the way of him and his sunsets. Later though, this same boy fell in love with the rain. He'd watch it rain for hours on end, say no words, just staring as it rained. It was therapeutic, the pit-pat sound of the rain as it connected on the roof, the drops of dew on the grass that shone like precious stones. This boy was me and it cost me a lot. I chose to be in my own company when the people I called friends used my love for nature against me. They fought to see what I saw so they discarded it, even going as far as calling me childish. I was 16 by then, old enough to know how life works but also young enough to be lost in it. It was like an intricate maze I was thrown into and the only way out was to continue through it all. Frankly, I'd have preferred to just exist, to be on my own, no hassle. But then, hassles had a way of finding you especially when you try to steer clear of them. I pretty much stayed away from hassles of any kind, even though they always came to meet me. I never sought for them, never wanted them even The first hassle that came my way though was a girl named Priscilla. Priscilla was beautiful even then and she disturbed me with every chance she got. The mere fact that I wanted to stay alone was alien to her, she didn't see how anybody would want to stay alone with all the fun life had to offer. Sweet little Priscilla made me fall in love with her and broke my heart in creative ways. She said it was to teach me how to live since she kept coming back and I kept accepting her. She could do no wrong in my eyes and I was head over heels in love with her-at least I thought I was. After Priscilla, I had nothing to do with girls at all. I steered clear of them and most even went as far as calling me heartless or a heartbreaker. Though I presume that notion would have worn off by now, seeing as most of them are already married. I don't think I'm a good person, at least I don't seem like one."

Silence ensued as Bryan finished his narration and Beverly looked at him with eyes as wide as saucers. She was so into his story, she forgot it was just a story and not a movie. It felt like a movie to her, the way the words flowed into each other, the sentence flowed unhindered. Bryan lied about one thing though; he was a legendary storyteller, not just a masterful one. He handled the story with care, each word weaving in and out of each other, causing an avalanche of emotions in her very being. It was like a cacophony of words, an array of realities. He used words to pull her in different directions and she couldn't for the life of her figure out how such a person could prefer to be alone. But then, she was also glad he preferred to be alone because if he didn't, there was no way he'd have found her and no way she'd have been listening to him right there and then. So, she was grateful for it, immensely.

"So, what do you think? I can see that dumbfounded expression on your face though. Am I that bad a storyteller?" Bryan teased and she didn't even smile. There was nothing to smile about him lowballing just how amazing he was. He was smart, witty, sensitive, real and she was seeing that he also told the best stories. If there was an ideal example of what a perfect man should look like, he'd win it fair and square.

"Oh wow. That was very unexpected, you had me at the edge of my seat with your storytelling ability. Don't you dare say that you're a bad storyteller when you're the best I've ever listened to. I have no idea how you do it but you manage to wow me each and every time. When I feel like I've figured you out, you manage to do something that'd make me reanalyze and re-think again. I truly don't have the words to express just how beautiful your story is, I truly don't. I just hope I'd be able to hear more, as many times as you'd be willing to tell them."

As she spoke, he turned to look at the time and was shocked to see that it was almost 2:30 am. They'd been talking for so long, they forgot the time.

"Thank you so much, Beverly. I think you should turn in for the night though, the bed is available. Don't stress yourself at all. Just go straight to bed. Got it?" He spoke to her like a father would speak to a child and she was hit with a feeling of nostalgia she immediately pushed away. She was too sleepy to start to overthink and that was where it was headed.

"Thank you for taking me in Bryan. I'll sleep now. Goodnight."

She walked straight to the nearest bedroom she saw and plopped on the bed, drifting off to sleep almost immediately. Bryan stayed away though, cleared the dining table before turning in for the night.

He had no idea where Beverly came from but she just might be his ticket out of loneliness. The mere thought of it made him smile.

He was happy, of a truth.