𝐎𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐫

14:pumpkin

𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐓

Christian and Vincent were sat in front of me at the bar, I was trying to work but with him opposite me I couldn't concentrate. They were having multiple conversations and they had both gone for about ten minutes a couple of times but always came back.

"Hey gorgeous" a drunken voice greeted me from the other side of the bar. Here we go again.

I didn't have to look at Christian to see his immediate glare that the poor boy. He had to be young and was probably just out with his mates having fun. He must of only came to Christians chest maybe, maybe even lower. He wasn't short, Christian was just tall. I glanced at him for a quick second and his ears were basically distributing steam. Like a kettle.

In a world that fails to see the soul as essential to all interactions, there will be anger. For we are born with it and the need for such soulful sight into others and from others becomes needed. Instead of being civilised, some chose to resort to anger. I wasn't one to rely on anger, I didn't really get angry often. Or if I did, I would try to just swallow it and let it burn through my stomach. But one thing I wouldn't tolerate, a man thinking he's superior to me or can talk to me like nothing. Been there, done that.

But as for Christian, he was the opposite. He was like a volcano when he was angry.

I saw Vincent raise his eyebrows and take a sip of his drink. I put on a smile and turned to the man.

"Yes sir what would you like" I smiled at him and he smirked.

"You in my bed" he grinned and Christian immediately got up from his seat. It's about to go off. He walked up to the man and grabbed his by his collar and shoved him against the bar. The mans face immediately turned pale and he looked terrified.

I could of sworn Christian brought the man off his feet but I couldn't be so sure from standing where I was. I couldn't let Christian hurt this guy, he was harmless really, just drunk and obviously trying to be a stud. But weren't all boys his age.

Why was I talking like I was older than him. He had to be my age. Then it hit me, how old was Christian. He owned a bar and was taller than me double. Well maybe I was exaggerating a little.

"Apologise" he spat in the mans face and turned his chin so the man was facing me.

"Christian it's fine hones-" I began.

"No it's not fucking fine" he scowled at me. Talk to me like that again, I dare you.

"Hey" I slightly raised my voice at him and his expression softened. That's what I thought. He looked back at the men and tensed again, his face going back to the angry expression.

"Cmon man, let him go" Vincent said as he turned to face Christian. He didn't acknowledge that Vincent was speaking to him and I stared to get worried about the boy as his cheeks turned a red. Was he chocking him? Wish that was you huh-stop.

"Christian Greyson" I frowned my eyebrows at him and he turned to face me reluctantly. God he was stubborn when he wanted to be. "Let him go" I told him and he looked at the man with a clenched jaw. He gave him a final glare before roughly shoving him down.

The poor boy took no time to scurry away as Christian kept his eyes on him. I rolled my eyes and checked the time. 12:34am.

He ran his hands through his hair, a thing I knew he did when he was stressed and sat back down.

"You should have one of these things" Vincent held his 7th cocktail up to Christian, "They really do the trick" he smiled at him and wrapped his lips around the straw and sucked until some of the alcohol rushed up the straw.