The men all had that same greedy look in their eyes, except for him. It was different. Vastly different. It looked like adoration or maybe I was just mistaking it for lust, I always seemed to do that.
My hands were still tangled in the strands...
A/N: hi, I've edited this whole story and I've deleted a few chapters and altered others, nothing drastic <3 I did delete chapter 30 bc I did not like at all where it was heading and it was completely off track of where the story was heading so let's just pretend that never happened <3 the story should be on track from this part forward seeing how I've edited all the previous chapters to match up accordingly so <3 enjoy!!
The taste of cherries coated my throat as one finger twirled the tiny straw around the glass cup. Music blared through the speakers as a coat of green coated the room. There were dancers everywhere, each one different from the rest dressed completely differently.
A bright light illuminated the bar top as I glanced down at the tiny box that flashed back the numbers, at 9:06 PM. He was late. My eyes catch the glint of the ring that was on my finger, a black teardrop that despite its lack of color still sparkled in the lights. I never once had taken it off since the day it was put there.
Drew, the bartender, flashes a smile in my direction as my freshly coated nails tap impatiently on the wood. He was supposed to be here. He's late. And I refused to look around the room in fear he was here, just in the distance.
"Another one?" I gingerly nod already feeling a fog start to feel my mind as the bass increasingly gets louder and louder until I physically can't hear my own thoughts anymore. I glance down at my phone once more to find a text from Ira.
Ira: he just walked in.
Fuck. What was I even supposed to say to him? I missed you while you fucked someone else? I'm sorry for leaving New York even though I was practically forced out?
A shiver runs down the middle of my spine stopping right at the end of my tailbone as it feels like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. And with just one glance to my right; he was there. In a white turtleneck with a black blazer on top and jeans that clung tightly to his legs. Gold chains hung loosely from his neck as millions of rings rested on his fingers. He looked as beautiful as ever.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
I down the rest of the red liquid as silence coats the air. Was he going to be the first to speak or was I? Finally gaining the courage I look into his eyes only to find guilt, shame, and regret staring me down. If my gut was right, which it almost always is, he was in deep shit.
