For His Pleasure

16

"I went to boarding school here, for a few years," he was telling me as we sat in the surprisingly empty metro.

"Here in Brussels?" I turned to him in surprise, sitting beside him with a curious and old lady opposite us.

She was eyeing us with a small and sweet smile, most likely amused by the fact that we fit in so badly right now. The mustardy yellow seats we were sitting on had small stains on them, and a part of me worried it would stain my Balmain gown. I stopped caring though, once Ben began speaking again.

"Yes. Best years of my life," he chuckled to himself, "just imagine an extremely basic teenage boy in a city with the most amazing night life ever. Girls, alcohol, drugs... it was crazy."

"You're kidding," I gasped teasingly, "you? A wild child?"

He shook his head with a grin and rested his hand behind me and on my waist, holding me closer to him as the metro swayed a little.

"If you only knew," he replied, his tone one I'd never heard before. I hadn't thought I'd ever see him smile this much.

"It's Friday night," I decided to change the subject, "where is everyone?"

I motioned at the relatively empty metro carriage we were in.

"Ah," Ben mused, "they're at town."

"Town?" I smiled curiously, finding his dark eyes in the slightly horrible lighting in here, "and where's that, exactly?"

"You'll see when we get there, sweetheart."

It wasn't long until we got off at a stop called De Brouckere.

"I'll give you a taste of what my teenage years were like, alright?" Ben kept his arm around my waist, and I didn't mind it one bit. I felt safe in this new surrounding with him so close.

The wide street had people sitting outside of different restaurants and cafes, drinking, eating and laughing.

The whole vibe of this place seemed so relaxed and easy-going; I instantly fell in love. Ben could tell how much I liked this.

"Just wait until we go to my favourite bar," he told me, guiding me to walk along with him.

"What's your favourite bar?" I wondered curiously, unable to wipe the smile from my face.

He shrugged mysteriously and gave me a smirk, "it's a pretty sad place, nobody goes there anymore. It used to be the place-to-be when I lived here. It's called Dali's."

"Like Salvador Dali?" I raised my brows at him, and he nodded with a laugh as we walked through the lively street, lit up by the final rays of the setting sun and a few lampposts.

"I doubt he still works there, but the bartender used to be amazing. Fucker would serve underaged teens without thinking twice," he then shook his head to himself, reliving great memories in his mind.

"He served underage people?" I raised my brows at the man beside me, stepping over a broken bottle of beer on the paved ground.

"To be fair, the only people that did go to Dali's back then were teenagers. Underaged or just turned 16," Ben reasoned, "a few older, but only a few."

We soon arrived and he guided me through a slightly dodgy hallway until we reached the actual bar area. There were only two groups of teens, most likely getting pre-drinks before heading out where-ever they then decided to go to spend their Friday night.

Ben and I sat down at a table in the corner, me on the couch side and he on the regular chair opposite me.

"Is he the same bartender?" I nodded over at the man who had made us the drinks.