Sisi / Season 1

51⁒

fadin – denitia, kendall morgan

I see him again.

I sit crookedly on my stool. I lean my elbows on the bar. My champagne can use some more champagne. It's the after-party. It's after night.

I'd rather be home, but I have to make an appearance so I can say I was here.

How did I get in this predicament? Locking eyes with this mysterious guy once again. He makes it clear he's coming to me.

I give him my cold shoulder. It wasn't warm to begin with. The devil motions close to my body and sits beside me, taping me with his eyes. I don't know how far he looks into me, but I can feel it's deep.

The token lights beam with mercy on the crowd spewing their loud conversations and louder dance moves. Alcohol spills on shirts. Lips suck on necks.

I fix my butt on my stool, before I slip off into his abyss. Even when I close my eyes, my eyelids aren't thick enough to completely block him out of my sight. My breaths are short, and he counts them.

"Med student," he smirks.

His voice is deeper than the bass.

"Yeah," I stare into my glass.

His heather grey t-shirt wears tightly on his frame, with short rolled sleeves. A deep V-neck to wrap it all. He must have the classic chest tattoo that goes from shoulder to shoulder. Small tragus piercing. Tonight, his hair is tied back. But he still has to brush some strands away. At least I get to look at his poison. Clean black jeans and black high top sneakers. A thin chain laces down between his pecks. He doesn't have time to sport a watch, however.

I turn my head the other direction. I don't have a licence to stare at him.

If he wants something from me, he won't have to run into any trouble getting it.

"What's a guy got to do to get your attention?" he asks in a sigh.

He focuses on the corner of my eye.

"A lot of things," I freshen my voice.

He licks his lips and gazes to the ground. I examine the stream of liquor behind the mixologist. I read the name in my head, like their interesting. Anything to block this guy from rooting in my mind.

"Can I get a name?"

He's not going away. My insides are melting because of it. I finally look back at him.

"X," I answer, drawing an x in the air with my index.

"Why X?" he asks.

"Yes, it's X. Why?" I cite.

He frowns, looking at me with a funny expression.

"What's the X for?"

"Easier to sign my name," I explain, casually, "After I break your heart."

I go back to my sparkling drink, missing its exploding taste in my mouth.

He nods, acceptingly.

"I'm J," he plays along the rules. He looks over the partying crowd behind us. "I don't sign things I break."

I freeze, like somebody pours nitrogen on me. He knows I know what he did. He smirks, as a result.

The colours in his eyes are darkness.

He defrosts me, as he takes me by the hand, parting me from my glass. He sinisterly pulls me in the middle of the crazy.

We dance slow. Whoever fought for freedom didn't meet this man in person. His hand brings me closer to his solid body. The bass vibrates the pit of my heart, swaying me.

I feel weightless. My eyelids blind me. I feel his heavy breath on my neck. Slow moving. Down tempo. I don't know what's real anymore. I think he knows my dreams. God, where's my rosary, when I need it?

He doesn't let me go.

I don't know much about him. It's one of those moments where I dabble with the unknown.

I look up at him.

"What happens when the music ends?" I ask him.

"Who says the music will end?"

How cruel, I think to myself. I close my eyes again.

"All good things come to an end," I reason.

"Nothing good about me," he keys.

I think I'm injured.

·•●⦁·

k. i added that last part for special effects. x}

thanks for reading tho