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109. The old home

 Celia’s POV

    I was so habituated to seeing him in Black and greys and that too, they are sophisticatedly tailored shirts and suits. Now, watching him wear shorts, kaki or white T- shirts with half sleeves, loose shirts and printed trousers making me stare at him more often. They are making  him look like a teenager. He knows that I have been staring at him. I didn’t try to shift my gaze when he caught me doing that. Its my right. I am confined to fit and flare crepe dresses. I can’t wear more. The climate is warm just like my life.

     “So, what are we going to do next?” There is a genuine interest in his voice with an added excitement. He looks careless, less worried and totally overjoyed about everything we have been doing. While we are walking, he attended few calls and that’s it. “Hakuna Matata.” He says. If that two words has a human form, it is Alexander King. I took the chance to go to a shop by excusing myself for washr

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