Chapter 5 A very detailed man

I looked through the crack that gave way to a clear view of what was happening beyond the helmet, his face.

"But-it's your helmet," I spoke, confused.

"This one is more resistant than the other one, I'll carry the one you carried," he put into account, his tone of voice and way of speaking made me understand that it was a decision that he was not going to have the option of refuting.

"Why-?"

"You're the one most likely to fall off the bike, it's good to make sure you don't get too hurt," he explained calmly.

"Oh."

After that I watched him take off his jacket and I couldn't believe it, this was crazy and unexpected, I never imagined that something like that would happen to me.

"Allow me a hand." He didn't wait for me to offer it, just leaned over a little to take it and transfer what I was holding there to my other hand as he began to pull on a sleeve of the jacket. "It looks like it's going to rain sometime, and your shirt looks thin, you must be cold."

He then passed the folders and the glass to the hand and the arm that already had the sleeve of the jacket on, proceeding to surround me with his arms, without touching me with his chest, to pass the jacket behind me so that it was more easy to proceed with the other arm.

"But you're the one who will go ahead, the breeze will hit you harder, and squarely. I stay protected behind your back."

He adjusted the lapels in front of me and he was left with a simple white shirt.

"I'll be fine."

He looked at the empty glass in my hands and took it carefully, turning to the teacher's house and then to his neighbor's house, where the lady from minutes ago had entered.

"What will you do?" I snooped.

But he didn't answer me at the moment, he only advanced towards the lady's house, stopping at the entrance gate and leaving the glass carefully placed in a small corner that was made to one side of it.

"Tomorrow morning, when I may go to water his garden, she will see this garbage and decide to dispose of it in a more appropriate place. Because there is no boat near here where we can throw it."

We were, technically, dirtying the facade of that nice old woman's beautiful house, but he was right about something, and that is that we didn't have any container available nearby to throw away disposable and, or, recyclable things. So, in a way, we were contributing to a cleaner city.

Wait-that made me realice an important point in all of that.

I kept looking at the young man with the face of a teenager who was now approaching the motorcycle, towards me perhaps. That initiative was quite honest, having the consideration of not throwing the garbage around. I thought that perhaps he would be a resident of some other quite beautiful villa in Sevilla, only middle or upper class people, with culture and previous education, would worry about not dirtying the common areas.

That was also attractive and I was curious to find out more about him and ask him what part of that Andalusian city he was from, but I didn't dare, it's because I was: either very discreet, or very cowardly; but that it was one of both, it was. That's why I stayed silent, remembering again the dirty streets of the neighborhood where I lived, which was a complete contrast to the sector of the city where we were right at that moment.

"Give me the folders."

Of course, he didn't suddenly take them from me, because I had them hugged against my chest. He just kept one hand fairly stretched out, waiting for me to play along.

I took them in both my hands then and brought them closer to his.

"What are you thinking to do?"

Me, asking things that apparently didn't make sense for me to say.

He walked a bit to get to the bike and swing a strong leg over it and be in position to start the bike, but he proceeded to place the folders on top of the gas tank and reached for the other helmet, calmly putting it on.

I just watched, memorizing each of his movements and observing how strong and firm his arms looked, well, what was enough to reveal the short sleeves of his white shirt.

I watched, without moving from the place where he was, how he kept the folders under his shirt, next to his abdomen.

"You'll be more comfortable this way," he answered the question he was asking me just at that moment in the privacy of my mind, he was very observant or perhaps my expressions were very obvious. "You will not hold on to the rear of the motorcycle, it is not safe."

I then imagined what he was trying to say and a strange vertigo seized my stomach. I-he-my arms-his waist-

"You come?" he looked at me from his motorcycle, his hands on the handlebars.

I swallowed, feeling like an astronaut with that big helmet and the jacket loose enough to look like a robe over my body.

Although it possibly looked more like a black UFO.

"Yeah," I muttered and walked over to him, climbing back up.

I positioned myself in the most correct way, unable to get rid of that feeling of discomfort due to being so close to him, having his jacket and his helmet was something that somehow seemed very trustworthy to me and I did not understand the reason for so much intimacy; maybe because I had never been treated the same by a man or a boy before, let alone someone amazingly attractive.

"Hold on to me," he said, and even though he sounded calm, I felt like someone had scolded me.

I was misrepresenting things and for the worse, in a very paranoid way.

I leaned a little further forward and wrapped my trembling and hesitant arms around his waist, I felt stupid, dumber than usual and with that thought of mine that at some point I would do anything stupid that would make him regret it. I didn't even know how much pressure to put around it, which is why I just made a ring in there all makeshift.

But this one, again guessing my doubts, took my wrists with his and gently pulled me, making my almost flat chest stick to his back and my grip tighten around his waist.

I swallowed, even more nervous due to the excessive closeness of our bodies, feeling that his abdomen was hard, quite hard and the experience made me blush, making me feel like a delinquent. It didn't take me long then to imagine the face my mother would make if she saw me in that position, or even worse, my father's face or attitude.

I was undecided, I did not know whether to be more prudent and say that it was not necessary to hug him from behind, or simply do it, without fear that something would happen, because after all, he was only being nice, with the intention of making his customer time will return safely back home. I thought I should be grateful for that.

It was for such a reason that I preferred to remain silent. Wondering if this was really happening, because, to tell the truth, everything seemed to be taken from some Wattpad novel.

The bike started up and we set off, looking at the things in front of us and looking at the houses we were leaving behind at this time of night. Now it was much closer to her hair and yes, it looked much softer and more manageable up close than from afar, well-treated hair that swayed in the evening breeze, it definitely looked like someone taking care of her physique, too perfect so that this was really happening to me, a skinny girl who seemed to suffer from malnutrition, who in some seasons of the year seemed paler than in others, as if I had low hemoglobin or something like that. Surely he would have a girlfriend, and I would be there, behind him, imagining that one day a person like him would notice me in a beautiful way, for something more than just going to buy me a yogurt that would serve as a snack and entertainment during some boring wait.

The rest of the way seemed fairly short, but I started to get more nervous as we got closer to my house, I swallowed hard and was about to ask him to stop a few blocks before arriving, to return his belongings and vice versa. But I fell silent inexplicably, afraid of saying something that might upset him, or actually I thought that because it was me who didn't want to spoil the special moment that was happening at that moment, at that moment I thought that it was most likely that this would never happen again. Happen, so I had to live that moment to the fullest. I know that that other day, when I told Daniela and Clara in detail, they were not going to believe a single word I said.

But it would do little good to describe them to you, it was the first time I had seen this person and at that time I didn't know his name, so it's not like I thought there might be a chance of seeing him again. One day out there to point it out to them and if that happened, by then maybe he would have already forgotten that night when he was very nice to me.

And we arrived, we arrived at my house. But since everything had been going too well for too long, I guess something bad had to happen to balance things out.

Well, my father was down there, right in front of the main door of the cellar that was under our house, I suppose he had been waiting for me for a while and now he took a glimpse of his daughter arriving late and to top it off, hugging a motorized car.