The meeting

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Ashley. 

The quiet is disturbed by the annoying shrieking sound of the heavy metal door opening. I pay no attention to it at first, but when the door stays open for a little too long, I tense. Hoping it could be Mae I don't turn around.

But when he sits down next to me, too close for the stranger he is, my heart skips too many beats. The pace fastens and I'm sure he can hear it.

I fight the urge to turn to face him, to look at him. To look in those ocean blue eyes. Those blue eyes that shine under the moonlight, and the white hair that matches the frost white colour of the moon.

Why? Why of all people did he cross the whole club just to come out here? Why... I tell myself not to think too much, not to think too highly of myself. He surely didn't make his way out here just because of me. For a second I thought that maybe....

Ashley!

No, no, no. My thoughts are getting out of hand, out of whatever control I had over them. I'm starting to think about things and wish for things I shouldn't.

But his presence clouds my mind, does things to me that only benefit the effect alcohol has over me. What I'm thinking around him isn't what I should be thinking.

But when his smoky voice cuts the air, the New York accent, and the question he asks reaches my ears, the world around me stops.

Everything around me freezes and blurs and...

"How's Leo?"

A question so innocent at its core, yet the tone.... The tone of his voice so.. so mysterious it cannot be so innocent. A hidden intention behind his question.

I know he can read my face. I've already learnt that the two times I've bought from him. The two times we exchanged little to no words, and if some, then only business wise. His eyes have the talent to scan your face so fast, taking in all the details and converting to whatever conclusions he draws.

So I know he can read the confusion on my face. I sure am confused, wondering how it's possible for him to know Leo. Leo never mentioned anyone like him, nor did any of his friends.

"How do you know him?"

His answer is a smile so typical for him. A cunning, mischievous, playful smile with a secret. An intention, a game that he's playing, but only he knows the rules. He doesn't give me an answer that could calm me down. Nothing to soothe the storm of emotions and thoughts wilding inside of me.

"He never mentioned me?"

I shake my head, giving up. There's no point in trying to read him.

"How do you know him?" I repeat my question.

"We have a little history together."

A little history together. In his interpretation that could mean literally anything, from a week to a decade. And it's only up to me to guess correctly, unless he decides to tell me.

Out of the blue, acting on an impulse, he stands up, offering me his hand. I stare at the hand, then at him, meeting his intense gaze. "Come on. We came here to have a good time, let's not ruin it by thinking of Leo."

We....I wonder what thinking of Leo makes him feel.

I should probably say something, object in some way. But I don't say anything, I take his hand and stand up again. He smiles at me, turning around and walking to the door.

My hand is still in his.

It's cold, an icy cold feeling, but compared to mine that's burning... it's the perfect opposite. Calming down the heat wave in my body.

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