Aphrodisiac| e. jaeger

ᴄᴀʟʟs [𝟶𝟺]

"It's just a little further down this way." Instructed the boy in front to you.

Folding your arms around your body, you squinted, feeling a flood of wind ravage you. In all honesty, you felt rather stupid for allowing Floch to sweet talk you into spending time with him after classes. He was a bit like a puppy that nipped at your ankles, a little too cute for their own good and a little too annoying to just ignore, but you were continuously reminding yourself that you were doing this to your own benefit.

In front, he wandered slightly ahead, Converse leaping off of the floor to reach for the withering leaves of the trees that lined the path. Every jump lifted the hoodie he was wearing a little higher up on his body, revealing the toned skin of his middle, that you had enjoyed viewing at the party. His large hands captured the pathetic little leaves, rendering them helpless. Sometimes, he let them go and allowed the wind to take them, and other times, he shredded them into pieces in his fingers before allowing them to crumple to the ground.

"Hey, you look blue." He noticed, bumping his shoulder with yours.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned over to him. His hazel eyes were narrowed at you in worry, but it was obvious his body was more than eager to continue his childish jumping game. Often, you wondered whether men ever really grew up. You wondered whether there was always a small, easily-impressed child harboured deep within them that society refused to ever be seen. For men, maturing meant gaining some responsibility as they lead into adult-hood, but for women it meant so much else. Maybe that was why you matured earlier, to fill in the roles of those men who never managed to grow-up.

"I'm fine, Floch." You asserted for probably the fourth time in less than half an hour.

Truthfully, you were not indeed fine. Something about your interaction with those members of The Ten had lingered on your skin like a veil of suspicion. It was not the tickling sensation that smothered your face when you walked into a cobweb, it was not those pin-pricks of panic that tingled along your neck and armpits, it was not the clenching of your throat, tensed with fear. The feeling was something else entirely that devoured you, mind and body, branding its presence within your darkest and most secluded depths of your soul.

There was a nagging sensation punching in your gut, tormenting you over the fact that there was regret. You were a decisive girl, refusing to have time for "what ifs" but this feeling was so tangible you could taste it like blood on a cut lip. Once the festering of emotions became too much to handle, you were grateful for Floch finally came to a stop outside of a car garage. The two of you had walked all the way from campus towards the outskirts of town to pick up his car, and you were glad the journey was finally over.

Eyes flicking up towards the sign awkwardly nailed onto the front, you grimaced at the clash of colours. The sign was a deep crimson, not exactly matching the rusted navy paint that had head seen one too many rain storms. You read the words upon the sign subconsciously.

"Onyankopon's Automobiles," you muttered, tucking your hands into the pockets of your trousers before turning your attention to Floch, who looked more than unsettled, "does he own the place or is it just that thing people do when they place a random name above the door when they're trying to be quirky?"

It was only meant to be a simple joke, but Floch's face was grave. Instead of answering, he headed towards the cavity in the metal structure that was the door as he looked for someone to speak to. Angrily following after him, you attempted not to gag at the stench of tar and sweat. Somehow, despite the modern world was still constantly evolving, the place had managed to keep that old school feeling, which you respected. It took sheer will not to get dragged in with the swarm of personality the world had to offer.