MIKE TYSON
The longer I stare at the words written in my book, the more they swirl around into something unintelligible and I realise that I have not retained any information for the past hour. I might actually fail the upcoming test on Monday.
Tiredly, I bang my forehead on the desk and when the vase beside me rattles from my actions, I rest my cheek on the desk and brush away the strands of hair that cover my eyes. My gaze shifts to the rose leaning back against the edge of said vase. It looks a little worse for wear. I should probably change the water.
Pushing my chair back, I stand up and distractedly wander around my room, touching things and observing them and then dropping them on my floor. They disappear somewhere beneath the mess littering every surface of the floor.
Eventually, I am standing before my bookshelf and my eyes are immediately drawn to the picture of Kai which has been filtered grey that I have stuck onto a column. With a soft smile, I pull it off and slant my head as I study his beautiful features.
The sound of my phone's message alert breaks me from my gaze and I glance over at the device that is resting on my textbook. Strolling over towards the desk, I grab it and my smile widens at the name of the messenger.
Speak of the devil...
You wanna meet my new Yorkshire Terrier? the text reads.
Yes, is my immediate response before I am already hurrying out the door excitedly. Before I turn back and grab the camera he bought for me on my birthday just to prove that I kept my promise to him.
Running downstairs, I grab myself a granola bar and contemplate on if I should take my car as my hand hesitates above the key in the otherwise empty fruit bowl. Deciding to grow some balls, I just grab them. I also leave a sticky note on the fridge about coming back soon. I have a feeling my mum is gonna be pissed at me for breaking my study schedule, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Once settled into the seat of my car and my camera resting in the passenger seat, I force myself to not even overthink it. I am merely driving. I have done it before.
After running the engine of the car, I shake my head in preparation and then force myself to slide a hand over the handbrake, pushing it down so that the car can move. I put the gear in drive and slowly let my foot press on the accelerator.
When I see the figure cycling by, I immediately slam my foot onto the brake and the wheels screech loudly. The whiplash has my body almost flying out the window if not for my seatbelt which I surprisingly remembered to put on. My back slams back into my seat harshly.
The person on the bicycle also stops cycling and stares over at me in astonishment. I stare right back with the very same shock, the colour slowly being drained from my face. He does not look the least bit impressed with me.
This is why I tend not to drive. Every single time I am in the driver's seat of a vehicle, something terrible happens. I just almost ran this man over on his bicycle. After a while of our staring contest, I jump out of the car so that I can address the issue at hand.
What if he yells at me? I think I might actually cry.
"Uh… hi," I say, waving at him courteously.
He remains silent.
"I-I'm so sorry. I thought I was watching, but I guess I wasn't. I'm a little rusty at this driving thing. I really didn't see you."
He still doesn't speak.
Now I'm scared for him. Is he in shock? "Sir, are you okay?"
"Yeah, just lemme… lemme process the fact that I almost died," he eventually responds and unfortunately it's with that sardonic comment.
"Okay," I mutter with a nod, averting my gaze guiltily.
"Next time keep your eyes on the road. You'll end up killing someone one of these days." With that being said, he jump starts his bicycle and cycles away.
Literally, that is an example of why I don't drive.
Turning around, I look over at the house to see if maybe my parents heard all the commotion and come to check on me. A frown of confusion climbs onto my expression and I wait for something to happen.
The door is not even ajar. Did they not hear that? With furrowed brows, I just lift up my shoulder and climb back into the driver seat. My hand shuts the door and I reverse back into the garage as carefully as I possibly can. I am not driving this death trap after that. No fucking way. I'll ride my bicycle.
That way I don't kill someone.
Shutting the door after dragging my bicycle out of the shed, I clap my hands over each other to get rid of the dust that is clinging to me. Someone really ought to clean that room out. Everything is so out of place and I can still feel some webs sticking onto my face. Finding this bicycle was a mission. I am lucky it was not placed in the far back though.
After wiping away the dust on the seat, I put my camera in the basket and throw my leg over the seat, balancing myself on it.
In the beginning, I am a little wobbly and unstable, but then I end up getting the hang of it. Pretty soon I'm riding like one of the people in the Tour de France. With a wide grin on my face, I stand up on the paddles and let my body move left and right as the wheels of the bike move along the pavement.
I know I have entered Fleance's neighbourhood when the houses start appearing more like cottage homes and when I spot the familiar house that he once showed me in the distance, I slow my bicycle down to a stop before hopping off and pushing the bike the rest of the way there.
Craning my neck at the sound of muted laughter, I look through the gate and the sight of Kai jogging around the small pool in the garden to avoid the small puppy that is curiously following him around causes a large smile to break out over my face.
Quickly pulling the camera out, I operate it before holding it up and quickly snapping a photo of him. Glancing down at the grey coated image, I bite down on my bottom lip to obscure my grin and I contemplate the possibility of using this picture of him in my portfolio.
"Are you planning on standing there all day, peeping Tom?"
Jumpily, my eyes flicker up and they meet his heterochromatic eyes. They glimmer at me in amusement and when my gaze catches the furry creature hugged against his chest, my heart immediately melts at the innocent curiosity blinking bright at me.
Pushing the gate open, he beckons me in with his head and then carefully passes the puppy over to me.
I nervously hold it, afraid to drop the little ball of fur on the ground. It feels light and small in my arms. I am almost afraid to hurt it. Despite my fears, I cannot resist the charm of this furry bundle of joy.
Its wet nose twitches curiously against my hand as I tentatively stroke its soft fur, feeling the deep warmth radiating from its tiny body. The puppy lets out a soft whimper, nuzzling closer to me, seeking comfort in my touch. As I gaze into those soulful puppy eyes, in that moment, it's just me and it, forging an unspoken bond of trust and companionship.
"What's its name?" I ask him while stroking it behind the ear.
"I was actually gonna let you do the honours," he admits and with widened eyes, I glance back up at him.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"You know," again the puppy draws my gaze and I carry on saying, "I have always wanted to name a dog Mike Tyson."
While blinking up at me blankly, he purses his lips in contemplation and then adamantly states, "No."
"What do you mean, no? You don't like it? I think it's a great name."
"Do I want my dog to grow up friendless?" he muses rhetorically which almost makes me burst out in laughter and the puppy in my arms grows restless so I pass it back over to him. He asks, "Why would you want to name a dog after a boxer?"
"So, it can strike fear in the hearts of every other dog," I say, holding in my grin of humour when he shakes his head and I don't miss the hilarity in his expression too. He too is trying not to laugh. "Come on Kai, if you wanted a pussy you would have bought a cat."
Finally, a chuckle splutters past his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he does, the deep dimples appearing in his cheeks. "Okay, just for that joke, I'll compromise. What about just Tyson?"
"Yeah, Tyson sounds good."
"By the way, you do realise it's a girl, right?" he questions, scratching Tyson behind her ear.
"It is?"
He nods.
With a slight stammer, I say, "Well, I don't appreciate you deciding for it what its gender should be."
Again, he laughs at my joke before excitedly saying, "We should take a picture with her and you can add it to your portfolio."
Before I can even respond, he is already organising us in poses. He sits us down on the trimmed lawn with the fountain in the background and when he lays Tyson on my head, a breathy chuckle leaves my lips.
Fearing that the puppy might accidentally piss on me, I quickly operate the camera and then hold it up. I ask him if he is ready and when I feel him nodding against my shoulder, I turn my head slightly to look at him and quickly take the photo of us.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Eat_Who_Mel
Eat_Who_Mel xoxo from le author
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone