Fatal Pursuit

siete

So many things I would've said but my throat wouldn't allow the words to escape. My brain turned inside out, my vocal chords ceased production, my tongue went on strike. In that moment, in my mind, I couldn't hear anything, not the people, not the music.
Just his exasperated breathing, so warm and humid against my skin like a south Asian monsoon. My body went limp in his mannish clutch like a cooked noodle, complacent and malleable against his sturdiness.
I simply closed my eyes and as his kisses descended from my neck to my shoulder I could only mouth a few breathless wait's while I contemplated how far I wanted this to go. His hands scaling my thighs, fingers flirting with the waistband of my panties.

Suddenly, the weight of his obnoxiously cumbersome mass was lifted off of my body but not out of his own benevolence, but by another force.

My eyes darted over to my knight in shining armor.

Ignacio?

His posture was alert, nostrils flared, pupils expanded.
"Ignacio?" I repeat. He looked at me—inspected me, actually. A quick up-down with the eyes, "Fix your dress."

I realized the straps and the pieces that cover my breasts were now completely stretched out. Meaning a swift or uncalculated movement could result in a Janet Jackson level nip-slip (That was all Justin Timberlake's fault btw).

I cradled the loosened fabric around my breasts, as I watched the event unfold.

They were going back and forth in Spanish, getting so close to each other's faces until the bartender sucker punched Ignacio.
Ignacio grinned and then lunged at the man, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt and essentially pulling him a few centimeters off the ground before slamming him onto the floor. In a split-second, he was on top of him, his fists flying into his jaw, over and over. It was all happening so fast yet so slow at the same time.

Then, people started noticing and a crowd started forming around the two. They flopped around on the floor together and I couldn't decide for sure who was winning anymore as people stepped in my line of sight. Their phones' flash glowing light down as they recorded the spectacle.

Finally, some people with sense grabbed the boys and ripped them apart from each other, and I could tell that although Ignacio had his fair share of scratches, he was the clear victor. The bartender's face was red and puffy, his lip was busted and his bloody nose leaked runoff into his mustache.

The bartender broke free from the two men who were holding him back and scared away the gawking crowd.
Whether it was out of fear for Ignacio or loss of dignity he decided to turn to me, "You and your boyfriend are banned from this club. If I ever see either of you here again, I'll call the police." Another bartender hands him an ice pack and he walks away cursing.

He's not my boyfriend.

I am however very happy to leave. Ignacio catches up with me outside.

"Let's go, Infinity." Ignacio puts a guiding hand on my shoulder but I remain put.

"Let's go? I'm not going anywhere with you."

He furrowed his brow and I noticed a thin cut going straight through it, "Why not? Because I got you banned from the club? There's way better places than this, don't worry. I have somewhere I want to take you."

"Do you seriously think I want to go anywhere with you after you gave me a fake number?"

He looked at me like he was waiting for the punchline of joke, "Why would I do that?"

I shrug my shoulders at him, "I don't know! But you know, if you weren't into me you could've just said that. I didn't ask for your number."

"Give me your phone." he said firmly.