He is real

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Part 2. Seven days. Chapter 3. Day one

I got cosy on a sun lounger, in the first row from the sea line, listening to the sound of the waves that were lapping the sandy shore, stretched my arms and put my face to the scorching sunrays and felt how they tickled my cheeks.

A few minutes later it got unbearably hot; I wanted to find myself in refreshing sea water, not yet warmed up before the beginning of the southern summer. Having opened my eyes, I stood up, and saw the figure of a tall guy, with well-developed muscles, he was running by not far from me, along the beach. He was wearing bright shorts, loose and elongated, tightly fitting his bouncy buttocks, and a red T-shirt that was waving in the wind along his broad back. It was hard not to notice that his legs and arms muscles, playing with every movement and glistening in the sun. Having my eyes glued on the perfectly built body that suddenly appeared in front of me, and was so quickly disappearing at a distance, I smiled involuntarily, with admiration.

Surprisingly, the guy turned around, caught sight of my smile, and smiled in response. “Anna, suddenly confused,” quickly turned away and, having forgotten her desire to go into the sea, began to search for a pack of cigarettes with a cigarette lighter in her bag. I told myself — well, okay, in any case, the guy will be glad, to receive some advances. I looked stealthily again in his direction and noticed how he had changed direction and was running back. Towards me. I began to feel somehow embarrassed. Embarrassed? I frowned at the feeling. For a long time I have not experienced “embarrassment” in front of the stronger sex.

The stranger slowed down, dropping into a walk. I had found a pack of cigarettes, but pretended to continue looking for it in the bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed how he was getting closer and closer, shortening the distance between us with confident steps. Once close, he sat down on a nearby lounger. I turned my head to him and met the look of a pair of blue eyes, studying me intently. I tried to hide my interest behind a blank, stern look.

— Hello. Sorry if I disturbed you, I just could not help doing it. — He began to speak Russian powerfully. I liked his pleasant deep voice, he spoke steadily even being a little out of breath. His large, athletic chest was rising and falling, sweat was dripping down his firm shoulders, onto his large sculptured arms, and I really wanted to touch them.

— It is the same as running past the opportunity that destiny gives you, — he finished, and it seems to me that his speech was longer, I just missed a little, focusing on the distinctive features of his sexy body.

— May I invite you? — He suggested, casting a glance at the cafe behind us. I, still not saying a word, began to look at his face, which had a little frowned look because of the scorching sun that hit his eyes.

I would guess his age at about thirty. Expressive masculine features, light stubble on his cheeks, which evenly filled, and slightly smoothed sharp angles of his cheekbones and chin. Thick dark hair, trimmed short, in a sporty style. The look is firm and decisive. But also so kind and open. You can probably endlessly list it on and on finding something noticeable in him, admire it, then find something else, to admire it even more… well, as for me, everything in him fit together.

And then I understood. My silence lingered on. Frozen in a stupor, like an idiot with the most stupid smirk on my face, I was looking at him with frank interest. Even my “invisible friend” was silent and didn’t express his biased opinion.

The guy, on the contrary, was looking at me in temperate manner, expecting my response, without focusing on my slowed down behavior.

— Is your training over? Didn’t you go jogging? — Finally I said.

He reacted with a slightly embarrassed smile; it gave him an incredible charm. Such a smile could endear anyone, and I definitely would not be an exception, I thought at that moment.

— I still have time to run, as long as you do not run away. — He said jokingly, his bright expressive eyes shone in the glaring rays of the midday sun.

— So far, I’m not going to run away. Let’s go to the cafe. — And with such guys as he I could go not only to the cafe, but could also do many more interesting things with him.

I got up from the lounger, picked up the towel on which I had been lying, having no idea that my day would be filled with such an unexpected event, shook it, and threw it into my bag. Then I pulled my short white beach dress off the back of the sun lounger and put it on.

We sat at a table with the sea view. That day, there were few visitors at the seaside cafe. Muffled music played from the loudspeakers, attached to the pillars around the perimeter of the hall, if it could be called that, a sad howling voice of an Israeli singer, accompanied by a heartbreaking melody.

The strangeness of my own behavior was driving me mad; I couldn’t stop looking at my new acquaintance, hardly noticing what was happening around. I do not want to get ahead of myself, but I’ll still say: there was something fascinating in him besides his catchy appearance. I managed to catch the energy emanating from him, I just didn’t focus on that at that time, having decided that it was his masculine attractiveness to blame, due to which I involuntarily gained confidence in him, experiencing instant and strong sympathy. No more, no less.

“My friend, don’t you want to tell me anything? Who is this?”- I mentally asked a question addressed to my “invisible friend.” But I never heard the response.

— My name is Michael, but you can call me Misha. — The guy said meanwhile and leaned back in his chair relaxed, his arms folded on his broad chest.

— Anna. — My voice seemed to become thinner and quieter; I repeated what had already been said louder, more confidently: — Anna.

— Beautiful name. And you yourself are very beautiful. — He noticed, continuing to look at me with warmth.

— So you say, Misha, it suits you. You’re as big as a bear. — That’s it! What an egg I laid, I mean.

After my words, he smiled. How did he manage to smile so charmingly? So naturally on the one hand, and so mysterious — on the other.

— Well, so what are we going to order? — I decided to remind, trying to change the topic of conversation.

— Anything you want.

— I will drink orange juice — It was the first thing that my mind, blurred by the impression he made, could think of.

Misha got up from the table and headed for the bar.

“And why are you suddenly so confused, baby?” — My “invisible friend” appeared at last.

— You’d better talk about the case, who is he? — I put forward a counter question, having said the words to myself, but this time I did not receive an answer.

— Your juice. — Leaning down, Misha put the filled glass next to me, and sat down opposite me, holding the bottle of “Coke” in his hand.

“Anna the naive” started flirting, straightening her hair, clapping her eyelashes, making a languid look… well, like a stupid little fool at the age of sixteen. Not only did I cross the border of these years long ago, but let’s say I was also an experienced conqueror of men’s hearts. But, “Anna the naive” appeared from nowhere and seized me, not leaving a chance to resist.

Misha and I talked for a long time, actually without any specific topics, without noticing how the sun began to go down.

Michael-Misha has lived in Israel for a couple of years. He earned his living by protecting the peace of a famous politician, creating for him the safety of movement around the city. And I appeared before my new acquaintance in the image of a girl working at the bar counter of one of the night clubs of Tel Aviv. The truth was only my story how I arrived all alone from a small Russian town to Israel.

We could easily find a common language, Misha was not impudent, did not try to get to the seat next to me, looked into my eyes without disturbing the space of the table separating us, looked at the sea sunset, then again looked into my eyes.

Our relaxed communication was interrupted only by Misha’s telephone call, several times. Running his finger across the screen, rejecting the call, he tried not to focus on this endlessly vibrating device. But after not knowing what the call, he succumbed to the caller’s insistence, got up from the table, and left me in order to answer the call.

When I was left alone, I looked at the sea, which was playing the waves. Just a few years ago, my “invisible friend” and I were imagining how it surrounded us, and here it is in reality. With my friend, it was possible to make many wishes come true, except for one and the main thing. And without the implementation of this “main” thing, the rest began to lose their meaning and significance, until they became completely unnecessary.

The sun was already almost hidden behind the horizon, leaving purple-pink traces in the sky. These strips of vague clouds resembled the careless strokes of a surrealist painter who depicted them in his picture with in a chaotic consistency, subject only to his inspiration.

Misha came back. He was standing with the phone in his hand, I was looking up at him, tapping with a plastic straw on the bottom of the glass. He looked down at me, head down. In the fading light of the setting sun, his face looked more relaxed, and even sexier. I did not want to take my eyes off him, the fragments depicting what I could do with this guy flashed in my mind.

— Anna, I have to go, they are calling me to work. — His excited rough voice distracted me from the obsession.

— Well, we are really so late. — I said at ease. As if I had never thought about anything so unchaste at all.

— Will you go out on a date with me? — He handed me his phone, and, having agreed, I dialed my number on the screen.

He put the phone into his shorts pocket and looked at me with regret. His eyes simply could not help but express that feeling (honestly, it wasn’t that subconscious desire when you try to indulge yourself in wishful thinking).

— See you soon, Anna, — he said, as he was leaving, smiled playfully and hurried on his business. He quickly ran up the stairs laid out of concrete blocks, leading up to the shore, got up and go out of sight, but not out of my thoughts.

Having watched him go, I stood up, took my bag from the back of the chair and was about to leave, but I was stopped by the waiter, holding a square tray on his palm.

— Shall I bring two sets of table-ware or one? — He asked, and put the large white plate on the table. Cake, with warm chocolate trails flowing from rounded edges. The cake was emanating coffee beans aroma.

— One. — I answered, grinning, and getting back to my seat at the table. It seems that in the choice of dessert our tastes with Misha coincided.


I was sitting on the sand at the edge of the waves, that were running on my bare feet. The sun finally disappeared over the horizon, and the first stars began to light up in the sky. A light evening breeze blew over me, wet and cool, it washed away the midday heat. By this time the beach had become almost empty, and the cafe behind me, on the contrary, had been filled with more visitors. Electronic rhythms of music were heard from its open terrace — they played the records of popular American DJs.

I was thinking about Misha. For the first time, I was deep in thoughts about someone. It seemed to me that he was not like my ex-boyfriends, who believed that they embodied the highest value in this world. In his appearance you could find everything that can please, as it seems to me, any girl. Perhaps he himself understood it, but he behaved so naturally and openly, not trying to pretend, spoke in untutored manner, and it attracted me to meet him once again. To meet him, a simple, good-natured guy wearing a red T-shirt.

The first impression in most cases turns out to be wrong; I won’t sin against the truth. Therefore, I should not rule out the possibility that he is actually not the one he represents himself to be. Here, for example: a pervert with secret desires, or gigolo, who can well use his looks for his disgusting purposes, well, or a jailbird who ran away from Russia.

“Well, I’ve got carried away too much, — I said mentally. Just let things go on. I do not know when I will be lucky to have free evening, but I must meet him. To relax, to have rest, to have fun. To have sex. And I haven’t had the latter for a long time. The main thing is that this Misha shouldn’t really turn out to be a pervert, otherwise it will not be fun. Am I saying everything right, buddy? — No answer. — You decided to become a mysterious silent? Well, let’s see how long you will last.”

I got up and put my bag over my shoulder. It was time to return home.

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