Chapter 6

• WASTED BEAUTY
• The chirping of the early morning birds makes me peel my eyes, yawning out the excess sleep as I peel off the duvet. I walk into the shower and take my time in it, enjoying the soothing sensation of the warm water caressing my bare skin.
• I leave the shower when I am done, and I change into a short and a T-shirt after the invigorating shower I was scheduled to have last night. Yes, it didn’t happen last night. I didn’t take a shower or do anything. I unintentionally fell asleep while reflecting on the tragic anecdote of my life. I didn't eat dinner, and I didn't leave this room all day today either. I have also not laid eyes on my guardian angel.
• Given the circumstances, I am not sure how I managed to stay cooked up in a room for the first time in years. I also slept like a baby last night, which I believe was much needed. I don't know why the stranger bothered not to wake me up or check on me throughout the day, and I am also not sure if I should thank him for that or not. I mean, shouldn’t he have been gentlemanly enough to check what happened to me so that I didn’t leave the room? Eyes roll!
• I am also still not sure how I got so snug under the warm duvet. Last I remember, I was laying my back on it. Unless... I don't know.
• I stamped my feet outside the room. The elongated rest and shower were quite therapeutic to me. I feel so fresh. No eyebags, and my mind is a bit refreshed. As I make my way down the lengthy, sparkling stairwell, I feel so much better and more energized—apart from my terribly empty stomach that is rumbling continuously.
• "Good evening!"
• I turn toward that gruff voice at a spot I don't recall seeing last night. And I meet him perched comfortably in the liquor parlor, having a good time with the bottles. And how much has he consumed? I walk up to him, and here sits the Greek God, drowning himself in alcohol. There are two empty bottles, and the third one is almost a quarter away. Goodness! What is he? A booze tank?
• "Hi, "I greet back while lounging against the hinge and observing him take another sip of the bitter liquid.
• His eyes twinkle with the drunken sense, softening due to the weight of alcohol.
• Wow!
• How long has he been drinking? If I perceive the expression on his face right, he appears to be a little too tipsy. Drunk, to be precise. But since Ellie and this shit do not bled ever, I am not so sure. In my entire life, I have never tasted this bitter shit, and I have never entertained intoxicated people. Leo and my father can vouch for that. This guy certainly resembles the so-called heavy drinkers.
• The fragrance of this booze must have seeped into my empty stomach, making it grumble just as I was about to speak. I wonder why it keeps grumbling in front of this stranger. Oh my, we still haven't even introduced ourselves. What the heck?
• "There is food in the kitchen." He mutters faintly, grinning broadly as a result of my stomach's misbehavior, putting his long, white, glossy, straight teeth on clear display.
• There is too much beauty for a drunkard! My own opinion, though. He is physically the epitome of beauty. I hope he hasn't damaged his internal organs with this bitter shit he is gulping down like milk. It will be such a pity and a waste of beauty.
• I resist the impulse to start a conversation and give in to my stomach's whim. He doesn't even seem to be considering pointing in the direction of his kitchen. As if I am familiar with the layout of his home, meh! I roll my eyes at his ungentlemanship. And anger too.
• I leave him to deal with his alcohol and stroll to what I suppose is the kitchen.
• I stroll into his stunning, contemporary kitchenette and scour the refrigerator for anything to eat. There is a lot of cuisine here, but I chose the pizza. I reheat it and nibble on two pieces before leaving with the remaining parts in the pizza box, a packet of del Monte juice, and two empty glasses just in case he decides to give up his alcohol and join me, which I sincerely doubt will happen. Hoping and trying never hurts, though. And it will also cost me nothing.
• I stumble to the seating area, but as I do, the pizza's enticing aroma and the urge to munch some more distract my focus. Before now, I had no idea how much I truly missed eating. Gosh! I was in dire need of food. I drop to the couch after settling everything on the table and start munching on the pizza again and sipping on my juice. I know I looked like a starved buffalo that has seen food after days of starvation. But I don’t care. This guy is stinking rich anyway. I cannot drain him just by consuming a box of pizza. And well, if I need to pay, I am as rich as he is, you know. Maybe even more. That puts another smile on my lips as I chew the pizza in confidence and appreciation.
• A few moments later, I hear his loud strides coming in my direction. I slowly direct my attention to him. More perplexing than the sight of the additional bottle and glass in his arms is how he manages to walk so straight after all the liquor he has consumed. Is he for real? Like, he isn’t even staggering?
• He settles down next to me without saying anything and bangs his bottle against the table while still enjoying the alcohol in his glass. I make a slight adjustment, backing away from him a bit, and focus once more on my pizza. He is gleefully shaking the tiny bit of vodka remaining in his glass, and I can see his stern look at me through the corner of my eye. He is the real oddball, without a doubt! Why look at me like that? Have I eaten too much? Well, excess consumption of food is better than this thing he is drinking, right?
• The speed at which he is gulping down this thing, huh? Does he have a wish to drown himself to death?
• "Why don't you just ask whatever is bothering you? You look scary when you act this weird," he states, making me almost choke on my last piece of pizza.
• Am I the one staring now? What about him?