CAFUNÉ ǁ Part 2

 If you still haven’t noticed that every single thing I’ve brought along was black; you’re welcome and just for the fun of it I’d like to point out the reason why. Black is always seen as a dull and sad colour; black is the absorption of all colour and the absence of light. Black hides, while white brings to light. What black covers, white uncovers. It always means negativity and depression yet in my eyes black has a whole other meaning.

 Bright colours are so empty, black is poetic. How do you imagine a poet? In a bright yellow jacket? Probably not. It’s modest and arrogant at the same time. Most importantly: It never goes out of style.

I slowly made my way to the edge of the pavement which had most of the yellow and black colours faded off it. I started pacing back and forth and hugging myself as I waited for a cab to pass by. As I squinted my eyes into the far horizon of the road to see a small yellow car appear. My heart filled with joy since I won’t be freezing to death anytime soon. As it arrived I entered the cab and took a seat.

 I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I inhaled smell of the cab. What has this man been eating here? It smelled like rotten tuna with a dash of human feces. Unfortunately I had no other choice but to open the window and pray I don’t choke to death nor freeze. I looked at the man sitting in front of me. He was a really pale man; like if there was a male version of Snow White this man would be it. He didn’t have any facial hear and was in his early 20’s.

He turned around and looked at me, and that’s when I noticed his piercing green orbs of eyes and surprisingly his quite wonderful smile accompanied with a dimple. Not to mention his quite long hair (well at least for a guy). It was shoulder-lengthened, curly and as brown as a trunk of an oak tree.

 “I apologise Miss. My last passenger was eating some foreign dish and trust me I’ve been trying to get rid of this scent ever since he left but as you can see –or smell- I failed terribly.” He said as he chuckled. “You must be Layla Salameh, Am I right?” He said hesitantly.

 I looked blankly at him still taking his facial features and his husky British accent in. “Wait? You-How do you kno-“

“I was ordered to bring you down to Headquarters immediately. All your questions will be answered once we arrive and I promise I won’t hurt you, kidnap you or anything along the lines of that.” He interrupted. I started thinking of all the bad scenarios this could turn out to be. Finally the cab started moving in the not-so-crowded streets of Poptropica. For some bizarre reason, my usual panicking self didn’t feel so insecure but I felt a bit uneasy about this specific scenario.

 “Excuse me Sir, but you better tell me who the hell you are, what you mean by ‘Headquarters’ and how you knew my name. “ I demanded.

 “Pardon me Miss but I told you I’d answer all your questions when we arrived.” He said as he smiled proud with his ‘witty’ response. “I shall tell you this though: Not everything is as it seems.” He smirked and started going faster. “Can you at least tell me your name?” I pleaded.

“If you insist. My name’s Harry Styles.” My heart couldn’t help but flutter once I’ve heard his reply.