REBEL GRAINED

COFFEE HOUSE

Lars pulled up in his driveway. His house was almost as impressive as Elije's. Though smaller, it had a more welcoming feel compared to the Mkhize contemporary industrial grey mansion.

"You live here?"

"I hope so; otherwise, we'll sleep in jail for breaking an entry."

Thulile shook her head in disapproval. She had never met someone with such flat jokes. The disaster for Thulile was the impressible desire to laugh at the lameness. She got out of the car and stood to look at what reassembled a palace compared to her home.

Lars was also someone out of her world, yet the man reduced the distance every day.

"Are you just going to stand there? Come on."

Thulile followed and stopped.

The lacking sound of footsteps made Lars turn back, "what's wrong?"

"I forgot your suit's jacket at home."

"No drama, you can bring it next time, come on," the man prompted.

Lars didn't mind, but Thulile did. It stressed her, as she left clear evidence a man spent the night before with her. She didn't fear her gran though she could imagine the senior's disappointment. No, the woman trembled at the idea Kungawo could notice the vest if ever he came.

Lars opened the door to his house and entered.

Thulile followed; her thoughts quickly shifted as her eyes shimmered at the view. The sunlight beamed from every corner. Everything was visible to one's eyesight. No, there was no sinister lurking in the shadows of Lars's mansion.

"Perhaps you'd like a tour to reassure you."

In front of Thulile's silence, Lars began, "here you have the living room as you can see it gives direct access to the pool. Here's the dining room, the secondary living room, turned Steven's office."

"Steven?"

"He's my roommate, you know, the guy you made coffee for."

"The smart one."

"Eh, how do you know that?"

Thulile shrugged, "I know that's all."

"What do you know about me?"

"You're an idiot."

"Hahaha, anyway, Steven will be back tomorrow. Here's the kitchen." Thulile walked inside under Lars' observant stare. He had the pots hanging, the ones she dreamt of having.

"You like them? They're mere decoration. I can barely boil an egg. My brother Jonas could make those pots sing with his dishes."

"He's a good cook?"

Lars smiled, "Yeah, he's an excellent cook."

"What are your qualities, Lars? The praise you attribute is always for someone else." Thulile teased him, and he took the bait.

"I have some; you'll see once you get to know me."

"Okay, Lars, if you say so," Thulile stepped out of the kitchen, and the tour continued.

"Here is the ground floor bath, ground floor toilets, gym room, leisure room, let's go upstairs."

There were more rooms, another bathroom, and toilets.

"That's a lot of rooms you have."

"You can sleep here if you need."

Thulile slid her head back, "I will never sleep here."