AllFreeNovel
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I’m already making promises and putting her on the throne because damn me, that’s who I am.
“Thanks for the tip,” she smiles at me, “I trust your mentorship, Dean.”
“Which one?” she basically begged me to say it unknowingly.
The pleasant lilt of her hearty laugh is engraved in my head now.
“Touché.” She continues to giggle to herself.
That’s. What. This. Is. A mentorship.
Maybe if I’ll repeat it a few more times it’ll sink in.
“One of my favorites is a woman that sticks her tongue out, but her tongue is a tentacle. It’s colorful, pops out, and really catches the eye. It was fun tattooing it.”
She parts her lips, “That’s freaking cool.”
I attempt to start a lighter conversation, recalling the fact I didn’t see her holding a phone in her hand once. “How come you’re not scrolling through your phone right now? Most of the people I encounter can’t live without them.”
“I don’t like to stick my head in my phone all day. I only have one app to follow artists like you and get inspired by their work. I prefer spending my time doing anything else other than wasting it on my phone.”
The free-spirited Lenny is social-media-free too.
I lean forward, leveling my body next to hers as we gaze at the dimness enfolding us. “Old school like me.”
“You’re not old,” she says in her delicate tone.
“Said the twenty-three-year-old to make me feel better about myself,” I nudge her shoulder.
“Did not.” She exclaims.
I arch my brow, wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue. “Bullshit,” I whisper in her ear.
She glances over and here’s that contented smile again and the soft bite on her lower lip.
“Are you calling my bluff, Mister Expert?” She pokes my chest, applying a dose of pressure to it. She had one too many beer bottles and the glaze in her eyes is an indication of that, it was quite an exhausting day, all things considered.
I stand up, taking a few steps toward the porch. “Well come on, bunny. Let’s put you to sleep. You had quite the day.”
“Yes, my house is gone.” She says in a melodramatic voice—the alcohol is starting to hit her system hard.
“Yeah, but you’re here now.”
“It’s very enchanting. I want to be like you when I grow up.” Never in my life had I heard that line. “Not homeless,” she finishes her sentimental moment.
Even her rapid mood shift is entertaining.
“Stripped of privacy. Clothes. Freedom.” Another round of self-pity and I know it’s the booze influence and the anxiety. Man, she’s a tiny thing, maybe the beer bottles were a mistake.
I turn, finding her standing with tears trickling down her cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay.” I hurry to cradle her face and wipe the steady current from her ocean eyes. “It’s going to be okay.” My voice is soft and gentle.
I slowly pull her to my chest, wrapping one hand at the small of her back, and the other I press on her head lightly—shielding her the best I can from any penetrative demons that make her feel less than what she is.
A treasure. Beauty to behold. Freedom to aspire. Spirit to protect.
“It’s the only thing I have,” she sobs and clutches onto me, “The last thing he left me.”
Confusion overtakes me, “Who?”
