The city tour

El Retiro Park

A few minutes later, the next day. Pierre took Ama to the park here in Madrid, Spain. Pierre is showing her around as they joyfully visit each teddy bear shop and take countless pictures together. Pierre looks so comfortable, seeing how excited Ama is.

"Are you happy?" He asked Ama, who was stepping on one footpath stone to the other.

"Yeah, I'm so happy." She giggled like a juvenile.

"Watch out—"

Pierre grabs Ama before she can stumbles and fall because of the way the man that was chasing after another man ran past with zero speed, using his body to slam Ama's shoulders.

"What's going on?" Ama, who was still in shock from the push the pullover by Pierre, consulted.

"The man who pushed you over is a policeman; he's chasing after the other man who is a pickpocket, a thief." Pierre turns back to look at Ama, who is still on his arm. "Are you alright?" He looked concerns as he patted her hair.

"I'm fine," Ama pulls away, shaking her head nonstop to flash out from the explicit thought that is roaming around her head, mere looking at Pierre's eyes. "That means security is terrible around here!" She adds.

"The area is good during the day, but it's dangerous at nightfall." Pierre then looked down at Ama, who was looking at him in response. "So you must remember not to hang out alone, understand?"

"Yes, I understand!" She bobbed.

"Good girl, let's go then." He patted her hair once more before they resumed walking around.

Not long, Ama tripped over a small rock. She almost fell again, but Pierre was so quick to catch her beforehand.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

Ama looks so pained as she lifts her leg. "Ankle— I think I sprained my ankle–"

"Sit down," Pierre slowly makes her sit on the enormous rock. He slowly removed her converse and saw that she indeed sprained something."Ouch!" Ama wince in pain.

"Don't move," He holds her left leg gently as he slowly rubs the side. He looks up at her. "Does it hurt like this?"

"No, not really," Ama muttered, looking at Pierre's downcast face that is focused on her leg. With this, she blushed.

"How about now?" He asked, still focusing on his work as the doctor he is.

Ama, on the other hand, is lost in thought, lost in her exotic world. —Pierre is so fine; his dark, well-trimmed eyebrows and long dark lashes.

"Ama?" Pierre yelled softly yet sternly, looking furious at the lost Ama, who had just regained consciousness.

"Huh?" Ama flinched.

"Does it hurt?" Pierre asked her again, but this time –Coldly.

"No...No, it doesn't," She flushes in embarrassment as she looks away from his face.

"No fracture. We'll get some medicated rub to apply, and it should be fine sooner." He wears Ama her converse ever so slightly. "But from now on, you won't be walking back with me, with this leg," He coldly speaks.

"But how can we continue?"Ama looks worried at him.

"Let's get back first," He carried her up in a bridal style.

The sentiment that Ama is feeling is undeniable. She blushes in fulfillment. — I'm going to faint, this sprain, it's so worth it.

*

A week later, we roamed around Plaza Mayor -A historical landmark in Madrid, Spain. We took pictures, snapshots of different food we had, snapshots of Museums, and food trucks.

The Plaza Mayor is a significant public space in the heart of Madrid, the capital of Spain. It was once the center of Old Madrid. It was first built during the reign of Philip III. Only a few blocks away is another famous plaza, the Puerta del Sol.

"What is this?" I ask, staring at a building that has different languages as a wall decoration.

"This, it's known as the —Love Restaurante Los Galayos, it's a Spanish restaurant and coffee shop that put a write up of love in different languages. It's a bit touristic but good coffee and friendly staff at the restaurant"

"Love Restaurant Los Galayos. That's so romantic," I smiled, looking at the thousands of love languages that are written down on a restaurant wall.

"Ama, you really–"

"Where is the one for Yoruba or Itsekiri?" I put my face in a frown as I slowly search for it, not minding if my nemesis is by my side.

"Yoruba? Itsekiri?" Pierre's weird way of his Parisian French accent spoils the loveliness of my country tribe.

"Yes, I am a Nigerian, remember?" I raised my brow at him. "An Itsekiri woman, to be precise,"

He nods.

After some minutes of the silence of searching for it, my eyes landed perfectly on it. Both tribes are together. "There it is!" I smirk.

I'm glad that my tribe and Africa, for a while, got recognized on this wall. I turned slowly to take a peep at Pierre, who was busy glancing at the railing as if looking for a particular language.

Pierre is with me. If I make a wish now, it might come true.

I closed my eyes slightly and entwined my fingers together with my head bowed. —Dear heavenly father, let Pierre wait till I'm all grown up and fall in love with me.

Pierre turns to look at Ama as she entwined a hand with her eyes closed. His eyes look weak and appreciative; he smiles slightly —a silly girl.

*

A few hours later, Pierre was driving us to a place; he said it was the Royal Palace of Madrid.

Sitting in the front seat, watching the road as he drives. I smile, pointing at a beautiful building. "What is the Royal Palace of Madrid called?"

He looks at me as if I'm dumb before fixing his eyes on the road. "Official residence of the Madrid royal palace!" His face was back in its profound way.

Suddenly he slows down with a stop. "Okay, here we are."

"Woah, it's so beautiful, just like the picture I saw of England Castle. The structure is so beautiful," Without further comprises, I ran off with my handbag on my shoulders, leaving my nemesis behind, again.

Just around the corner, my eyes landed on two couples making out so romantically. I felt my heart stop immediately. I turned to see Pierre watching me from behind, but he was glimpsing at me —Emotionless.

"Let's go," His voice came out cold with his typically stern expression.

I turn to look away from the couples as I follow my nemesis from behind. "The palace looks enormous,"

"Once you go in, you will know that it's so tremendous on the inside." He frankly speaks.

"Whoa... It's gigantic and so fascinating and neat." I voice out in awe. I was so blown away by every space we would step our foot.

"The Royal Armoury!" I cried out softly. "It's so cool," I looked around in awe.

Immediately we stepped into another space. My eyes landed on a milk color old fashioned wedding gown.

"Is this a wedding dress?" I whimpered gradually.

"Look over there!" Pierre voices out, gesturing me with his hand to the side to see a giant portrait of a woman wearing the same wedding gown and also wearing a crown, she was holding a man, and that man looks so much like a King.

"Being able to have a wedding so huge in a place like this —In a royal palace in an old, beautiful gown." My eyes water up. "They might be Prince and princess,"

Pierre turns to glance at me. "See, you're also a princess too," He points at my dress.

"Oh, that's true," I smiled.

"You're also wearing a princess bedroom dress that is now designed to fit this generation."

I blushed —In his heart, I'm a princess.

He stretched out his arm so that I'll interlock my arm to his like the one in the old noble movies. I could help but call out to him.

"Pierre?" I breathe out.

"Yes?" He responded.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Instantly, I knew that I was waiting for the bomb to destroy me.

"Ama, why are you asking me this type of question? You're still too young," He pulls away from our interlocked arm.

"I'm not too young anymore; I'm already eighteen years old, and by the way, I was just curious, for all these years, I've not seen you with a woman," Then the realization hits me. With wide eyes, I was peeking at him. "Or, are you incompetent? Are you gay? Do you like men instead?"

Instantly, he pokes my forehead with his fingers. "Are you insane?" He sounds stunned. "I'm not gay, and I'm over competent enough, just that I haven't found the right one. I don't want to date just any random person."

Terrific enough —He's single as brown new. A smirk creeps so weirdly to my corner lips.

"So...Do you have a crush on anyone yet?" I bowed my head, not wanting to hear his good or inadequate response.

"What about you? Do you have a crush on anyone yet?" He furrows his brows, giving me the nemesis stares.

With the whole level of shock and embarrassing way, he asked me the same questions back without answering the one I asked; I blushed.

"Nope—Not at all, no one," I stammered, looking away from his face.

I felt him smile. The softest kind of smile that touches someone's eyes. "Do you know how you look like when you lie?"

I turn around, away from his face, as a countless blush creeps onto my dark face.

He looks shocked at my silence. He tries to look at my face, but I hide it well with my hair.

"Did you fall for someone?" His voice sounds anxious.

"No," I sound unnerved.

Can I say it —I can't say it, can I? That you're the one I fall in love with, that you're my crush? Can I say that you're my boyfriend, and I am the only one that knew about our toxic relationships?

"Girl, you're Eighteen now; it's time to fall in love," He interlocks his arms to his chest with a slight smile. "It's normal for you to have a crush on someone at your age; I won't blame you for that."

"You truly want to know," I voiced out.

Should I tell him that he's the one? That he's the one that I fell deeply in love with?

He smiled, a reassuring kind of smile. "Of course. We're family, and I'm older than you. I can give you some advice about it,"

With a sad face. "But if I tell you about it, then you will be angry at me,"

"I promise, I won't be angry." He reassured me.

I shake away the thought of telling him how I feel about him —That I loved him but not as a family relation but as a heart target kind of love.

He pats my head slowly. "It's okay when you're ready; you can tell me anytime. Even though I don't know who you like, I will still remind you that you're a woman, you've to protect yourself now that you're still so young, you've to make sure that you do not cross the line. If that guy truly loves you, he will respect and cherish you; he won't ask you to do anything absurd. Do you understand?" He inquires.

"He's not that kind of person to maltreat a woman," I defend him without him knowing it.

He touches my chin, sending a stab sensation to my brain. "Baby girl, I'm inquisitive to know who this guy is."

It's you —It is you, Pierre Alexandre Fitzgerald.

I turn my head to the side, feeling so angry for not confessing my feelings to a guy who sees me just as a family and nothing else. How can I tell him? That he's the one. That he's the man that I want, that he's the only one diety wants for me. He's all I want.

"Just feel free to tell me when you're ready to, okay?" He smiles.

It's you —Pierre, it's you.

Authors note

I'm sorry for the late update. Just that I've other things going on for me lately. So I decided to make it up to you all by making the chapter longer because I might not update till next week.

P.S: Thanks for the countless supports so far. I appreciate your feedback and love.