Chapter 3 The walking dead was me.

Even her mouth is suddenly leading no where, like her jaws are posessed with stroke. Stuttering the words in her mind, she cannot understand how is this possible. How did this got here? how did her diary got here? " He must've read it. He cannot be like this if he never read It. Oh mother he knows, it looks like he knows everything" Her inner voiced trembles inside of her, growing timid.

"Did you–did you read everything?" There she mangaged to finally drag her jerking legs, watching Sliver quickly pulls out a couple of drawers looking like he was in a desperate search of something but she's only desperate to find out if he read everything.

"You know it's crazy when we write diaries, we write anything you know"

Her few seconds of ochestrated courage, gives her a horse backbone to speak out for herself and expecting a smooth answer from him. She knows Silver, his very witty, aloof, open minded and considerate. Grudges do not stick with him for long, this too shall be quickly forgetten and he'll brag about business later.

She's thinking all that while standing in the middle of the lounge, with one shoe still much holding onto her foot. Silver is seen lifting the bunch of keys, taken out from the fifth drawer at the unit stand, upholding a 45 centimitre Television. Took out the silver key from his red tracks on the pockets from his pants. A name design from his right hip, stood out with it's shiny legitimacy, attracting from afar. Named 'Era Galaxy' mesmerizing with white italics written in it.

Now that was Becca's favourite area of his muscle package to look at. Standing 2 feet tall. A thick long legged young man with rigid muscles at the right places. Slim yet too thick to learn to be a proffessional dancer overnight if he wanted to but his figure was far from being a stuck up. You know those slim figured flexible males with just the right amount of six packs. As for the arms they're were the ones bigger and his back.

He lifts hundred pounds per day after work, so it's no wonder. He has the bulky, ....? back that's bigger than the size of his clothes.

She notices him, clipping back the single key to one of them and neatly placed them back. "The need to do that is unnecessary, Becca must've given you for...." She cuts, seeing him quietly, fast walking to the door. Willing to be hit by the cold, heavy rain.

Sadly even if his sport's tracks had no sleeves in his arms. Kenya mumbles cannot seem to express the words that's were eager to flee out. Her jaws jamming, her throat exceedingly going dry. In her head she's frustrated for dragging to say anything. She's screaming out for attention. Actually she's gaging because she cannot decide what to scream out for.

Seeing Silver is about to perish in front of her eyes.

Her lungs cave even more and the speeding of her heart is about tear the walls of her soul. She's so confused at how this is all possibly happening. Why today, why now? why did she even wrote it down. Just when when her feet we're about to follow behind him. He suddenly halted his feet and stopped right there in the middle of an opened door. Even when the cold blistering wind waa harsh on his skin, the boiling sensation on his body numbs it into an ordinary summer as the wind slips away from the door and across his body.

The pattern of that coldest air, subtly harsh 's in Kenya's jeans making her legs tighten muscles like she's catching ice. And Kenya slowed down after seeing a little progress of the change of his mind and she's thinking maybe this is her chance. But the chance that she's so terrified of, at what he'll turn it to be. But Silver just stood there almost finishing a whole minute without turning to say anything. While Miss Diary rehearses at what she'll mutter.

"How do you do it?" Her eyes blinked a few times as if his words just blew dust directed in her face, but it was only the mass carried by his words that affected her in any way he could have said them "Huh?" She stuttered. Silver finally let's go the door and turns over, to darn straight look at her. The door quickly swing's by the wind and shut's back itself.

Kenya's eyes couldn't help but to downcast again, heavy notes of her breathing, dashing warm between her stuttering lips. Poor Kenya even her mouth has became so dry, trying to mouth something but nothing seems to be responsive yet. Her mind is frozen dead she still cannot believe he knows everything. "Silver knows everything?" She pinched the base of hand, trying to wake up in a dream that she strongly believes it is a dream. It should be a dream. I keep my diary in a safety drawer, nobody usually touches.

"Should I ask again?" Silver's awakens her with his deep voice, so deep that it sounded like he had pushed the bass, to throb in her ears. Seeing she was dragging to answer and he was not interested to know why. "No, N–No" She grasped so shook, inhaling the air that could fill the whole tank of water that her stomach really needed. "I mean, do what?" She finally remembers the question asked thirteen seconds ago and finally forced herself to take a glimpse at at Silver's face.

"Pretend" He softly utters. While his eyes pierced without a flinch of movement, staring straight at her and Kenya's few seconds of glimpse, that she was trying to steal from him. It deadly turned into a fail, as her face denies to even bows away. Her eyeballs stuck in their sockets, drawn in by Silver's emotional, burning stare. The stare that had eyes that's were drowning in darker shades inside his pupils. A shade that is so deep, drawing her to be part of what he feels and quickly they took her back from these past three months.

Not the first month that her sister introduced him to her but the last week in November 2017. It was half past Seven in the morning she still remembers. The day on Saturday that he bumped into him at the Internet Sweet Cafe before Becca could finally let them meet. On the next week on the following month.

Of which was Sunday around 8pm, pushing an entrance door with so much power as she happened to be mentally dwelling at her own thoughts. Sat ankle crossed at the softest single couch. Next to the tall window shield at the penthouse.