Conversations with Sao2

“you know you can always kill her if you want to”, he told me trivially as he poured himself a glass of brandy. The piece of ice inside it swirled playfully as it was bathed by the warm liquid, and as the last drop landed on the glass’ lips, the ice was barely noticeable.
Sao liked his drinks strong and heady. He could go on and on ranting about almost everything while sipping his cold 101 and can still open a bottle of lager after it.
Needless to say, he’s a heavy drinker.
“well i indeed have considered that option…”, i replied as i took another gut wrenching gulp of my detox, “..but things have changed”…
“bullshit”
“…i love her”
It’s been a while since I confessed something I felt for someone to him, and I felt my mouth watered as I blurted out those last three words.
“that, is the biggest bullshit you’ve ever pulled on me”, he snorted. “you know you can’t fool me, i have seen you down a lotta broads without as much as a sigh and now you’re tellin’ me you fuckin’ love her?”
“you don’t get it. I told you, things have changed.”
“you’re crazy”, he went on as he took a swig from his glass. “we both know this not about love – nor lust”..
A knot was lodged inside my throat as he finished his last sentence. We both knew what he meant. He knew me like the back of his hand and I knew him likewise. And a cloud of awkwardness is very much what I needed right now. He pierced me with his eyes, and even as i looked the other way i can still feel his cold, cold gaze.
I stood up. I have’t been to this place for quite some time now and I missed the way things smelled in here. Sweet varnish. He told me once that he added a tinge of vanilla into the varnish that he used to coat his furnishings. It was a great idea, so great that I had to fight the drowsiness i felt everytime I tried to sniff out the scent off his furniture. Maybe it was all part of a trap – the bland texture of the wall and ceiling, the antiques, and the sweet smell, maybe he thought that any thief would be trapped inside a trance, that he’d think of the twilight zone and be hypnotized by the smell. Or maybe I was the one who thought all of these things.
I was walking towards the spinet when i caught the glimpse of the picture at the corner of my eye.
“tell me what happened last night”, he told me after a few minutes of silence, it wasn’t a cold question, and i was a little surprised by how quickly he’s changed his tone.
I didn’t answer at once. Something else was brewing inside my head. It was that damn picture, so friggin’ familiar.
“w-well”, i looked back at him. “it was a fuckin’ reunion, they were all present, that little bugger you so hated, The Chef, Bonnie and Clyde, even Malcolm was there, though he was silent most of the time”
“Malcolm was there?”
“Yes, THE Malcolm”
Sao hated Malcolm more than anything in the world. He despised everything about him, his looks, his business, hell, he even hated everyone who was associated with him, with the exception of course, of me and our so-called friends.
I started to walk towards the picture when he said something that bothered the hell out of me.

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About delamorte

Eherm... A boy with a soiled face who's spent 23 pathetic years trying to make a difference... An old man trying to talk his way out of his own cage... And the Seer who's trying to poise these two alter egos' rage... You won't find anything interesting enough in me to ask about my real life facts. Trust me, things will get more and more boring once you take that path. Disclaimer : These are just random rants and stories cooked-up out of boredom and prolonged stages of catatonia. Please feel free to troll/criticize my works, i am but a poor soul trying to find my way out of this miserable phase some of you call life, your critiques shall serve as my guiding light.
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One Response to Conversations with Sao2

  1. meedicine says:

    waiting for the next part..

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