Posted in Love, Prose

Lagbaja

Day 10 of the 15-day lockdown writing challenge.

”I told you a couple of days ago that you don’t know me.” He smirks.

”And I agree.” I look back and smile. ”Doesn’t mean I can’t guess.”

I can’t help but wonder where we’re going. Deep down, I want to stop asking. If there’s one thing he’s full of asides himself, it’s surprises. I like surprises. It’s a win-win.

We’re getting further and further away from my hostel but closer to the one right before it. We obviously can’t be going there. He pulls me by the hand and leads me across the road and that’s confusing because the bright light from the hostel’s neon sign is on the side we just left and is reflecting right against us. He lets go of my hand as he climbs the platform on which the bus stop is.

Why here? I wonder. It’s anything but subtle. Here, we have a face. The light reflects right against this place and there are about two other couples. He makes his way to the corner and sits while gesturing for me to come join him. I do although still slightly confused. Why he’d prefer to stay here, I really can’t tell. I really don’t know him.

”Gimme your phone.” He stretches out his palm.

”What? Why?” I question as I fumble in my pocket for the phone anyway.

”Questions questions.” He tsks as I hand him the phone.

Mysterious is definitely one word to describe him.

I peep over his shoulder and watch as he opens Safari and looks up the name of an artist that is too uninteresting for me to remember. A few pictures are on preview on the first page of the search. The smile on his face tells me he’s found what he was looking for. He clicks on the first one and hands my phone back to me.

”Tell me what you see in this.” He says while taking both my hands off of my thighs and bending so his head replaces my hands.

His head is on my thigh. We’re in public. His head is on my thigh in public. What was his question again? It really doesn’t matter because my fingers find their way to his hair and they run through it. It happens again. And again. Now, it’s just a cycle. Is it okay that we’re doing this in public?

”So, what do you see?” His voice jolts me back to reality.

Oh! Right. His question. I realise I’d been staring at the picture ever since.

”Chaos.” I answer him while coming to terms with the fact that the same word describes what’s going on inside me there and then.

”Hm. Fair enough.” He says.

I wait a little while longer expecting him to say something else, my fingers still running through his jet black hair all the while.

Silence. But not the awkward kind. I’m gladdened by it. I lock my phone and put it down right beside me and turn my attention to the beautiful man right next to me. ’On me’ might be more appropriate tho. His eyes are closed.

What is he thinking of? I search my brain for the answers I know I don’t have. With him, I never have any answers. I never know anything beyond the moment we’re in it. But the funny thing is. I’m satisfied with it. I’m looking for beyond when he is my common man. There’s more to him, I know. Right now, it’s okay that he’s my Lagbaja. I’ll figure him out eventually. And if I don’t, is that such a bad thing?

Lagbaja – Nobody in particular; common man.

Author:

Teen with the soul of a child and musings of an adult💖 http://www.mirakee.com/brownie_vocal

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