Chapter 3 Mokira.

CHAPTER 03

A young man meets Therine. For the moment, he seems intrigued by the character of this teenager who reminds him of someone dear to him.

I wonder why I invited this girl. Is it maybe because she looks like her? I didn't think I'd run into a girl like that; that tomboyish look with a princess face, it's crazy.

When we met; if you can call it a "meeting", I felt like I had been infused with something. A breath of warmth and sweetness. I thought I would see her again. In those eyes where I plunged, I thought I saw thousands of lights. From those brown eyes that stared at me, it looked like a sky full of stars.

I was lost for a moment. This immature and dreamy side, I thought I would never see it again. At least, not for a long time.

I can't believe I'm thinking about that kid again. I must be really delirious. Anyway, I thought I would never see her again. And yet... A smile stretches my lips.

"Finding out that she was in the same class as me and having to be around her for a good while makes me feel a little good. It was pretty reassuring to me. I wonder why."

Busy making us a nice dinner, I watch my surprise guest from time to time. She's in the middle of the living room looking around like a kid in a museum. She really is a kid. She also looks like she's really hungry.

Meanwhile, Therine is getting to know Mokira's world. The young lady is also intrigued by her new neighbor; the latter having foreign behaviors.

Wow... For a guy, I must say that he is very orderly. Everything is tidy; everything in its place. The empty and impersonal decor gives a touch of mystery to the place. I would have to do the same; at least to scare the friends.

I'm in deep contemplation.

- Hey. Bout de femme. he calls me from another room.

No, but what right does he have to call me that. I'm going to fix him up real quick. Even though I'm used to it, it sometimes annoys me that people call me names just because I look like a child. I've received comments about that and even nicknames: "the little girl"; "the little one". I sigh.

I head to where the voice was coming from, ready to fight. However, when the sweet scent of a good dinner intoxicates me, I calm down instantly.

"Ah, what a wonderful feeling."

I stand in the doorway apartment to this room that appears to be the kitchen.

"Are you planning on coming to eat or would you like me to throw you out the window to get some peace?"

"Uh... Yes. Yes. I hasten to say."

I take a seat on a stool and get served. A rather awkward silence settles in. We have to do something. I don't like eating in silence.

"Um... Did you do the first year here? I never saw you last year."

"Are you going to tell me that you knew the faces of everyone who went to first grade with you?"

"Uh... By the way, uh... How old are you?" I asked him, passing over his mockery.

"Twenty. And you?" he asked without looking up from his food.

Seriously? Did he just answer me that?

"19 years old."

He raises his head and stares at me, raising an eyebrow. I think he's surprised. What is his problem? It's very embarrassing when someone is watching you like that. Doesn't he know that?

"Yet, I would have given you 16. You look so much like a baby," he mocks.

I don't say a word, sulk, finish my meal, thank him and go to my beloved bed. My stomach is full, or rather, far too full. I almost can't take it anymore.

"What if I came back tomorrow? Wouldn't that be a good idea?" I thought.

I had this idea in my head until I remembered a piece of advice my father had once given me.

"Don't live like a parasite. Live off the fruits of your labor," my father told me.

This principle, I have always kept it in me, to the point of pride. I don't want to be the parasite that hovers around Mr. M's meals.

"There's no way I'm going to eat off his plate."

And with these words, I fall asleep, exhausted by digestion.

I barely had time to enjoy my sleep when a noise made me wake up with a start. Could it be a thief?

I look at the time on my phone.

12:12 a.m.

I slowly get out of bed and head for the front door with my plastic gun - I had bought it for self-defense since I couldn't get a real one. I always keep it handy -well positioned in my right hand. No one is there. Strange. I gently open the door to observe the surroundings.

I suddenly hear a door open and close. Then, the sound of a key in a lock. When I look in the direction of the noise, I see the silhouette of my dear neighbor across the street, despite the darkness. I see him coming out of his house.

But what is this guy doing? Doesn't he know that it's dangerous to go out at night?

Anyway, maybe he goes to a night club?

We don't know.

Anyway, it's none of my business. I go to sleep.

I'm going back to bed.

~THE NEXT DAY~

Dring! Dring! Dring!

I'm fed up. When will it be vacation? It's exhausting to wake up every morning to go to class.

I force myself to get up and, with the same weariness as the day before, drag myself to the bathroom. I take a nice cold shower, put on a short skirt and a neckline that does not however emphasize my slender body. You may ask me "why the neckline" when I am as flat as a board? Well, I don't know. Just a passing fancy. I grab my backpack and head out. No makeup; it feels too weird.

Arriving at our usual seats, I notice that my companions are not there yet. A sigh I am obliged to reserve the place for them; which is quite embarrassing when I think that I will then have to tell others who are looking for places that there are no more available.

"Damn. This is boring."

I decide to review my classes while I wait. I was in the middle of concentrating when Mireille comes in and ruins my reading.

"Hello."

"Hey. You're late."

She rolls her eyes.

"I'm not late. It's only 7:45 a.m.

"Pff."

"By the way, where's Caleb and the other b*tch?"

"B*tch? She's overreacting."

She always thought that nickname fit us. Even though it's an insult, we know she doesn't really mean it, so we let her go on while looking up nicknames for her too. I had even come up with one. It was "hentative." And I think she really doesn't like it. I rarely call her that. If I don't, watch out for my hair.

"It will come."

"Okay."

I focus back on my lesson. I cross my legs. Suddenly, I feel Mireille's hand caressing my thighs.

"Huh?"

"You have really smooth legs. How do you do it?"

"Get your hand out if you really care about her."

I'm embarrassed by her gesture but still, she continues.

"You know what? You're turning me on now," she says with a longing look.

I roll my eyes. She must really have a problem with this one.

"That's good. I hope that when I cut your hand, you'll still be horny."

I reach into my bag and pull out a blade. Understanding my intentions, she quickly pulls her hand out.

"You're no fun."

"I'm straight. Sorry."

It's at this moment that Nelly appears...