30 more minutes and she would be walking out of that office to see the love of her life. Her alpha and omena.
She hailed from the lakeside.
It had been 6 years since he had flown out but despite the long calls *on phone*, uncountable Whatsapp messages and innumerable video chats on Skype, she always felt a part of her was missing. She felt incomplete and only he could fill the void. That void that gave her sleepless nights.
The ticking sound from the second hand of the office clock was music to her ears.
Each tick drew her closer to meeting the only soul that made her feel like a woman. Not that the rest made her feel like a man, only that this particular human had a way of arousing emotions no one else would stir in her.
30 more minutes and he would be right by her side.
She inhaled sharply as she peeped down through the minuscule space her bandage skirt allowed her toned thighs to spread, re-scrutinizing the red bottoms he had sent her on Christmas.
They were unsullied. She loved them. His sense of class and fashion always left her mesmerized.
She walked out of the office like a queen ,swaying every inch of her lakeside backside and ignoring the cat-calls from the ever thirsty male workmates. Ever since the water dispensers broke down, things had become quite difficult for them. They could be such a pain at times.
He walked out of the airport to the taxi bay with an air of authority just like he was used to back at work. But the jet lag was proving to be quite a bummer. Glancing at his Omega Seamaster Diver Chronometer on his left arm, he figured out he had approximately 30 minute to beat the city traffic and meet his woman.
His rose. His chocolate drop.
The lady selling roses across the road smiled at him, as he walked across towards her, “Half a dozen roses please,” he requested as he handed her a couple of dollar notes. He knew she loved flowers. And making her happy was his priority.
“You must really love her huh?” she joked as she handed him the flowers which he carefully stashed in the inner pocket of his knee-length trench coat while smiling back at her.
“Yes I do. To the moon and back”, he replied, flagging down a cab.
His gold embossed iPhone vibrated in his pocket and he went for it immediately.
Then there she was.
Her picture on the caller screen was a sight to behold. She was so beautiful. Must have been God’s gift to him.
“Hey sugar, where you at?” came the question from the other end.
A voice so familiar that he could make a beat from the intonations. A voice that always gave him goose bumps for no reason at all.
“I am here already cherry” he replied as he stepped out of the cab before the line went dead. She had spotted him through the coffee house glass walls and was staring at him with her big lovely eyes.
They had spotted him too. He looked a tad too weird in the small quiet town.
For a moment he stood there taking in the sight of her lovely self before the cab driver tapped him on the back asking for payment.
“Asante sana” he said, in Swahili heavily laden with his acquired British accent, handing him the last batch of solid cash he had on himself. He did not need much money in cash around here.
The anti-terror squad a few yards ahead was watching him keenly, with their trigger happy sniper on the roof ready to shoot. They watched as he handed over money from his breast pocket to the taxi man and then freeze and gaze into the coffee shop.
“He’s up to no good” said the leader.
They had been on high alert for the past few days ever since a threat against public joints within the town was issued. Taking chances was not an option, and here they had what looked like a terror suspect. His trench coat was just perfect to carry terrorist toys.
He reached into his inner pocket to dish out the roses he had bought her.
She watched him in awe. She was convinced he was glowing. And she knew what he was about to get from that pocket. He loved spoiling her.
They saw him shove an arm into his inner pocket. And asked the sniper to train his scope on him. Ready to shoot. As soon as his hand started retreating from the pocket, the shoot to kill order was issued. And a lead slug was sent to seek refuge in his skull.
His brain splattered all over the glass as the bullet made entry at the back of his head.
She squawked, sprinting off to salvage him, but she got there too late. He was long gone.
They jumped out of their cars towards him, yelling at everyone to stay back and all that fuckery about having the situation under control.
A stranger held her back as she screamed her lungs out, kicking at everything.
Then the bomb expert who was on standby all along carefully opened the trench coat to find out what he was reaching for.
And there lay the roses. As lifeless as their dead owner with crumbled petals.
“You killed him you animals” she wailed. “You killed him!”
“It was just a bunch of roses!”