Black Butterfly

Chapter 3

He's late. Of course he is. 

I sat at the countertop of the Dennys on 4th and Burbon, messing with the straw in my drink. He'd better have a good explanation for this. I have shit to do. "Do you want anything dear? Some fries, a burger?" The waitress smiled at me. "Oh no thank you. I'm fine for now." She'd asked me that question twice already, and pity had begun to set in her eyes. 

The bell at the door chimed and I turned hoping it was Mason. No such luck. Instead it was just a guy about my age. The grey sweatshirt he wore was two sizes too big for him, and the pulled up hood made him more conspicuous than he most likely wanted to be. 

His dark eyes met mine and he swiftly looked away, and quickly made his way to a booth in the corner. He slouched over wringing his hands. His right hand moved to mess with something in his pocket and it seemed to calm him just a bit. 

The bell rang again and I turned, anticipating Mason but instead it was another guy my age dressed in grey heading to the back toward the booth where I assumed the other man was waiting. The new one sat down and a deep conversation began. 

I sighed, Mason wasn't going to show up, that was fact. I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe he might have actually been a truthfull person. The time on my phone read 6:45. 15 minutes is all I'm going to wait until I give up. 

It's was five minutes later when Mason decided to finally show up. The bell chimed and I turn toward him. 

"Took you long enough." I muttered. I almost sent another snipe his way when I noticed the haunted look in his eyes, and the bit of blood stuck to the corner of his lips. A cut was open high on his cheek close enough to almost connect to his eye. The silver chain around his neck had flecks of blood on it and Mason's walk was stiff as he grimaced when he lifted his foot from the ground to move forward. 

"What the hell happened to you?" I stand up and make my way to him, my hand lifting to inspect what was on his face. 

Mason moves his head away from my hand and grunts. "Nothing you should be concerned about." He mumbled. 

"Nothing my ass. You look like shit."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." 

"Shut up. I'm going to clean you up, with your permission or not." 

I grab his wrist, almost not noticing how his pulse quickens and how warm his body temperature is. But I noticed, and it was enough to make a bit of heat creep up my neck even though it shouldn't.

I pull Mason into the women's bathroom and the lady inside washing her hands huffs and clicks her tounge. I ignore her. The cramped bathroom leads no room to move so I choose the big stall in the back. I push Mason in and close the door behind us. 

"Calsy it's really nothing. I'll be fine."