Moonlight Curse: The Hunger

Chapter 18

I tried to get enough sleep until 6 am. My leg muscles were feeling sore and so did my arms. My stretching exercises were not enough to prepare me for last night's running, jumping, throwing and stabbing. I needed more limbering up to do. But before I went out of the guest room, I reached for my comb and checked myself in the mirror.

I looked tired. What did I expect? I was no Sleeping Beauty but still I tried to look pretty before I went down stairs.

"Who am I preparing myself for?" I asked my reflection before the full length mirror.

Let's see, I mentally took notes, Miguel is the same arrogant tool, but he still looks the same boyishly handsome with an annoying cuteness I could not resist. Then, there's Roberto, the ruggedly handsome and yet polished gentleman, who is so sweet, adorable and totally a sweetheart.

Yeah, I had to look pretty for those two guys who show no interest in dear old me. It was a good explanation to my suddenly obsessive attitude towards my appearance.

"At least, I look good when I face the aswangs," I told myself so and tried not to laugh at my silliness. If Nana could see or hear me now, assuredly, I would get a good strong zap at the head with either a ladle or a soft broom. 

"Sorry, Nana," I voiced out through the ether, hopefully she would hear it. I silently made a prayer of peace and apologized again for my trampy behavior.

I changed into my work-out clothes. Once again, I checked at my reflection. I brought the wrong shirt, instead of my oversized white Adidas shirt; I was then wearing my mid-rib sleeveless, fitted white Nike shirt and black running shorts which are skimpy just enough to cover my bum. So, I kept tugging on it hoping it would be dragged lower to cover my thighs. My tummy was not the same flat and firm muscle I had when I was 20. My thighs were also bulging, thank goodness I had no cellulites yet, and my arms still retained its toned physique. After five years of doing office work and a little physical exercise, I was proud to still look fabulous despite my more voluptuous curves.

Yeah, what I lack in fitness, I overflow with positive thinking! Or more of lying to myself and accepting the lies as truths, which sounded much worse.

"That's the spirit, girl!" I muttered to myself and pinched my "bilbil" - tummy fat.

I went downstairs and heard movement behind the kitchen door.

"Mang Reno?" I called out.

Instead of the old man, Miguel came out holding a glass of water. His hair was messy and he was sweaty. His face looked as if it was glowing and his eyes were laughing. I could not help but stare at his dimple as sweat still ran down his cheeks. 

Why do I find that attractive was beyond my own understanding? 

"Going running?" he asked, his eyes lingered on my thighs and slowly went down my legs, then slowly back to my thighs again and finally holding my gaze.

Did he just perform a PET scan on my lower body? My legs felt like jelly then.

"Yeah, I need the exercise," I answered; my cheeks were burning hot and inhaled deeply to suck my stomach in and puffed my chest, a secret to flat abs in seconds and instant boob job!

"You look great, you need not exercise," Again, his gaze travelled down to my legs and added, "If you ask me, you have more curves now."

"I have to be in shape for the hunt, not to get curvy-licious!" I snapped at him.

He laughed then asked me if he could join me.

"No thanks. I'll run to the village," I answered, but he insisted and was already out of the door. "But you just got back, didn't you?"

"And so? I could still run a mile if that worries you," he looked back and grinned.

Why did I always fall for that boyish grin and twinkling eyes? He reminded me of Ian Somerhalder. Nah, he doesn't look like him at all! Ian Somerhalder is a god, while Miguel is well... Okay, fine! Miguel is like a demi-god! He just reminds me of the way I feel for Ian every time I watch him in Vampire Diaries as Damon Salvatore, the man you love to love, then hate to love and soon, you'll love to hate. And with Miguel, I am always in such a dilemma. I sighed and said nothing but to follow him outside and into the early morning sunlight.

The air was so refreshing and it smelled like fresh cut grass, cows' manure and pure sunlight. There was no hint of any smoke from cars, garbage or cigars.

For me, February mornings are the best because of the foggy dawn bringing cooler mornings yet because of the fast approaching summer, the sun will heat up the surrounding soon enough.

And then I heard a familiar sound which always made me giggle, a crowing rooster.

"What's so funny?" Miguel asked.

I started to stretch my legs and was bending my hips from left to right.

"A rooster's crow always made me laugh, I don't know why."

"c**k-a-doodle-doo!" he imitated the sound with an emphasis on the first word.

"You made it sound so malicious!" I laughed.

"You're the one who's green-minded, loving a c**k's crow," he said, again emphasizing "c**k".

"Will you stop teasing, let's run!" I shouted and off I went.

I could hear his laughter and approaching steps.