The morning sun rose quickly, forgetting all that happened the previous day and continuing its own job.
That was how life was supposed to be. You don’t live in the past. Every opportunity you have is ant to be utilized to prepare for the present or tomorrow, the future.
Syril understood this, and needless to say, he spent the whole night strategizing, preparing for the now and tomorrow. He asked for his companion’s opinion whenever needed, formulating ideas for his own future.
He needed to. It was beyond salient.
He had to complete the mission. He was going to move to a new environnt. He couldn’t settle for diocrity, he needed to beco notable. He needed to prepare for every possible challenge and obstacle.
He wasn’t going to let anything stop him.
However, Syril was still a human. And humans are bound to make mistakes, humans can’t predict every outco. Humans can’t be perfect.
Did he really prepare for everything?
Only the future can tell.
∆∆∆∆
Syril stretched after donning a pair of black trousers and a fitted black shirt, part of the gifts Amy insisted to give him before they would leave for Riverdale.
He adjusted the sleeve as he prepared to leave, thinking about the ntal battle he was about to face.
How he was going to seduce Sherry Whitmore.
"Take a deep breath and just follow the plan," Raja chid in, offering words of encouragent.
"When did you get soft?" Syril teased, smiling despite his predicant.
"Shut up and go fuck that MILF, brat!" Raja refuted, his playfulness sliding back in.
"More like it." Syril chuckled and left afterwards. Left for Sherry’s.
The journey to Sherry’s house was rather quick, as the MILF in her 40’s didn’t stay far from her store. It wasn’t long before Syril got to her bungalow, standing on her beautiful porch.
Syril found reason to smile. It was nostalgia.
He rembered his first ti here. It was just a few days after the ghastly accident that claid his parents’ lives, and Syril found himself suddenly all alone, hungry, broken, dejected...
There was no one to console, no one to help the underage who couldn’t make much sense of what was happening around him.
Syril dragged his weak body to a convenience he had hoped would give him sothing to eat, sothing to at least cure the pangs in his stomach.
There, he found this woman with brown hair and beautiful, big brown eyes. She was Sherry.
Sherry looked at the poor boy with tears welled up in her eyes. He was small, hungry, fragile, and discarded in this hell of a world. He was no younger or older than her own daughter, yet was subjected to such misery.
Sherry had just closed the store that day, in a haste to return to her young, waiting daughter. So instead of opening the store to get sothing, she urged the boy to follow her ho.
Syril was young, but he didn’t turn deaf ears when his parents taught him life lessons before their untily departure. So, he refused at first, frightened that it might all go wrong.
But after weighing his options and thinking about his present situation, he succumbed and reluctantly agreed.
Sherry took him ho that day and fed the boy to his satisfaction, allowed the boy to play with her daughter who was surprisingly his agemate, and even allowed him to stay for the night.
The next morning, Syril was offered two options, and what Syril had chosen that day still shocks Sherry till date...
∆∆∆∆
Syril took the sight in again. It had been a long ti since he visited, but the building didn’t depreciate. In fact, it looked more beautiful.
The number of flower vases had increased from what he last saw, the building still maintained its white sheen, and that natural wood and flowers scents still lingered in the air.
It wasn’t like his own crummy building, it wasn’t a mansion like Amanda’s, but it was Sherry’s, beautiful in its own way. And Syril liked it.
He pressed the doorbell thrice before a voice answered from inside.
"Coming. Who’s there? Jessie, is that you?" The voice answered.
’Ah, Jessica isn’t around? Perfect.’ Syril couldn’t help.
Jessica was Sherry’s only child.
That sa girl he played with that fateful day, the sa girl he had only seen twice after that day, the sa girl he couldn’t rember what her face looked like.
"It’s Syril," he finally answered.
The door opened two minutes later, but the sight wasn’t what Syril expected.
Sherry ca out with a white towel wrapped round her body, water dripping from her entirety, her dampened brown hair splayed and clinging onto her wet skin.
Syril was dumbfounded. He even forgot how to greet.
Why? He saw beyond the wetness and truly saw the glory of her body, the splendor hidden beneath the soft, innocent towel.
Her cleavage was bold in the towel that couldn’t do much to cover the mighty blessings on her chest, her breasts curves fully highlighted in the white wool.
"What are you waiting for?" Sherry chuckled, oblivious to the trouble she was causing. "Co in!"
Syril stuttered with his next words. "Oh... Uh-huh... Pardon! Where are my manners?! Good morning."
Sherry smiled and ushered the young adult in, saying a few words before she led him to her sitting-room.
"Wow! I didn’t expect you to co this early. I was expecting you later, but all the sa, it’s always good to see you."
"I was in the shower and had to rush out." She smiled, patting the empty space on her white sofa in what appeared to be a diocre parlour with five big sofas, soft sconces, a chandelier, and a large screen fixated on the wall.
She gestured for him to sit by her side.
Syril obliged without saying anything.
"Hm. It’s early, but I can make sothing up real quick. What would you like to have?"
Only Syril knew why he was there this early. He didn’t forget all the plans. He knew ti wasn’t really in his favor. He had to do this quickly...
Because after this, after completing the mission, he had one more place to visit before the day ends. Before his last day in Almandale ends.
————~~~~~————~~~~~———
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