~ MILES' POV ~
She seemed happy as she laughed heartily and talked to her father's grave. It was a sight not meant for someone with a glassy heart to see. On the outside, it appeared heartwarming but on the inside, it hurt more than a knife would.
Was I doing this because I was simply trying to make up for my sins and the guilt that slowly ate me up or was I doing this out of genuine pity?
If I were trying to make up for my sins, I could understand but if I felt pity towards this girl, what happened to the me I knew?
Why was I eager to save her when I first stepped into her dream? Of all dreams I had ever manipulated, I manipulated them for the fun of it.
But, Tilda's?
Her dream caught my attention when I was in my feat of meditation searching for dreams to manipulate. This girl was sad in her dream just like she was in real life - She was struggling to choose between life and death.
Wasn't I supposed to do all this for fun? Why then did I feel inclined to help Matilda out of this battle with death? Had I become weak to the point where I felt pity?
"Dad, if you can hear me. I hope you forgive mum for everything she did after your death. I don't really hate her like I always claim...I just hate the personality she portrays. I just only wish she could become a better person and just give me the chance to have that relationship I have always wished to have with her. Is that too much to ask?"
As she said those words, the smile on her face faded away and was replaced with a gloomy face and eyes clouded with tears.
For a second there, I wanted to pull her into my embrace and comfort her but I reasoned that would only make her cry even more. I was feeling pity for this girl - pity was one of the many things I never felt even for a dying child and yet, here I was feeling pity for this frustrated teenager.
"Maybe she'll change. I believe... people change and she will too. I just want you to know , dad that I will be fine and that I love you too."
She then wiped her tears with the back of her palm and lifted her gaze to meet mine.
"We should go now. Dad and I have talked long enough," She managed to put on a weak smile.
"You know, you look ugly when you cry. Extremely ugly," I stressed the word ' Extremely ' more than anything.
"Abeg stop it!" She hit me on the shoulder and sniffed.
I helped her up and we made it out of the Olusegun cemetery.
"I need to go get my car from the mechanic first, ok?" I told her and she simply nodded.
We boarded a taxi that took us to a mechanic workshop.
"Oga vincent, good afternoon," Tilda and I greeted the man who was busy doing some work underneath a car.
The man quickly slid himself out and stood up to acknowledge our presence.
"Fine brother afar nau," The man greeted with bright smiles.
"I dey o," I managed to return a forced smile. "You don do finish?"
"Ah ah trust me nau," The man threw his arms forward. "I don do am since. Na you I dey wait for."
"Nor vex. I just dey busy since and I nor too dey strong," I said and he handed my car keys over to me before leading us over to where my car was stationed in his workshop.
"Thank you very much," I said as I opened the front seat for Tilda while I returned to the driver's seat.
"Anytime," The mechanic waved as I drove off.
I drove the car onto the road while playing "Crazy things" by Tems.
Tilda was silent. She stared out of the window, her open palm supporting her chin.
"Tems is one of my favourites," I began. "How about you?"
"I like her too. She's unique," She replied, still staring out the window.
"Yeah. It's sad how a lot of Nigerians fail to understand and appreciate her music," I continued, trying to snap her out of the gloominess she plunged herself into.
"True," was all she said.
Another moment of nothing but Tems' voice reigned in the car. However, Tilda finally broke the silence.
"Where are we going?" She sounded a little alarmed. The turn I had taken wasn't a road that led to either of our homes so it was enough to get her on her guard.
"Somewhere I know you'll like," I simply answered.
She simply rolled her eyes and returned to staring out the window.
The car soon came to halt in the sands.
"We're here," I announced.
We stepped out of the car and she stood in a spot for a moment as she surveyed our surroundings. Afterwards, she lazily looked at me.
"A beach, really?" She chuckled.
"It's one of the best places to find peace," I shrugged.
It was empty at the beach so it was just the two of us, the sea, and the...well, the sands.
There was a sand heap which gave the best view of the sea and so we both moved to sit there.
"You don't come to the beach often?" I proceeded to ask her.
"Sometimes," She said.
"Do you know how to swim?" I continued.
I saw her gaze sharpen at me as though trying to absorb every word that came out of my mouth.
I watched her clutch the hem of her tank top tightly.
"I-I...I'd rather leave my clothes on," She stuttered.
A smirk curled up on my lips. What a funny girl she was.
*.*.*.
~ TILDA'S POV ~
The way his blue eyes fell on me after the words I spilled out, I felt embarrassed.
Thank God that I had dark skin! If not, I could bet that I'd have been as red as a tomato by now.
"I was only asking if you knew how to swim," A light chuckle escaped him.
"N-No," I quickly looked elsewhere.
"Too bad," He tsked.
"I've been taking swimming lessons so I'll be good at it soon," I protested.
"You wish," He scoffed.
I hissed and returned my gaze to the gentle sway of the sea.
"The air here smells so fresh. It feels so nice," I deeply inhaled.
"It is," He nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should come here often and you could show me the stuff you learnt from your swimming lessons."
I eyed him and he laughed.
"You have a very dirty mind, I swear," He said amidst laughter.
"You're not serious," I pushed his head with a finger.
"Do you feel better now?" He suddenly asked.
I went silent.
"You see, you always complain about me not smiling but here you are squeezing your face," He shook his head.
He then stood up and walked a short distance away from the heap before stopping to face my direction.
"Just smile," He clenched his teeth, making me believe that he needed to take lessons on how to smile. Afterwards, he made a model kind of pose while keeping his teeth clenched.
I laughed. "No modelling brand can take you when you look so uncanny right now."
"What do you mean? Who wouldn't want a beauty like me?" He raised an eyebrow.
I laughed harder.
"I mean, I am extremely handsome, I can model," He took his time to count on every finger. "I can sing, I can dance, name it!"
"You can dance, really?" I laughed. "I don't believe that."
"Try me," His expression turned serious.
"Ooou I like how this is turning out," My eyes turned watery from laughter as I took out my phone and started playing "Charm" by Rema.
When Miles started swaying his body in a way only Mr. Bean would, I couldn't resist the urge to laugh.
"Dancer, my foot!" I was on the verge of falling from the heap from laughter.
"See this one o. Is it because I haven't shown my breakdance?"
And when he did break dance, he did break and dance because even a skeleton could do much more.
"Abeg go and sit down," I had to place my hand over my mouth as I laughed.
We spent our time laughing and making fun of ourselves. It was fun.
Maybe now I was grateful that Miles was not just a character from my dream but was a friend that did his best to make me just as happy as Kiki did.
In the middle of our fun, a notification sound came from his pocket and he quickly took out his phone.
The expression on his face turned serious and for the first time since I had known him, he appeared nervous for some reason.
"Um Tilda I have to go home. I'll drop you off," He said after placing his phone back into his pocket.
"What's wrong?" I asked, searching his face for an answer.
"It's... it's nothing serious," He waved my question aside.
His expression told otherwise but, who was I to pry into his personal matters?