Fate (h.s.au)

III

My lips form against the glass and I tilt my head back, scrunching my face as soon as I taste the alcohol burn the back of my throat.

"That a girl!" I hear one of my friends shout. Miranda grabs my shoulder and cheers with me, my lips forming into a smile.

"No more. I hate being drunk," I tell her, and she rolls her eyes. She's swaying, clearly feeling something.

"I invited you to get drunk with me," she whines, hugging my body. Brenna is laughing at us, my hands grabbing Miranda's waist to try and put her on the barstool.

"It's your birthday and you can do what you want. I am not drinking," I tell her, and she pouts. Her boyfriend Mike comes to her and wraps his arms around her.

I say boyfriend because they are not soulmates. They don't care either.

"Slow down, kid. You're gonna flop on the floor soon," her boyfriend's friend says. His name is Sean and I've noticed how he's flirting with me. I've chosen to ignore it; he is not picking up on it.

"Can I get you a drink?" Sean asks, and I shake my head. "Oh, come on. Please, Lina?"

I roll my eyes. "I don't drink."

"You just downed a shot. Let loose," he tries and I look at Brenna.

"Go for it," she mouthes, and I let Sean get me a drink. He hands me a vodka and cranberry, my hand holding it for a while before I take a sip. It's not the worst thing in the world; I just hate how I feel drinking alcohol.

"Aren't you hot?" Miranda asks, and I shake my head. I'm so used to dressing like this. I have a black long-sleeved shirt that has a high neck, black jeans, and my hair is tied into a high ponytail.

"You see Lina's new tattoo?" Brenna says, Miranda looking behind my ear as I lean to show her.

"It's a lotus flower," I tell her, knowing she's not in the mindset to decipher it. Her finger pokes it and I just look at her, her laughing ringing coming through shortly after. She's acting like a child.

"I'm going to go smoke," I tell them, turning to walk outside. I feel Sean grab my arm and I turn back around.

"Want company?" he wonders, and I shake my head. I don't mean to be rude, but I hate company when I smoke.

"You sure?" And I tell him I am. I walk out of the bar and grab my cigarette, lighting it and leaning against the side of the building.

The side door opens and I watch two men walk out; one shoving the other.

"Stay out," the one guy spits at the other. I turn my head away, minding my own business.

"Fucking idiot," the one grumbles, lighting his own cigarette. I take a look at him and his brown hair is pushed back, but it clearly looks like he's been running his fingers through it multiple times.

I can feel him walking closer to me and I pay no attention to it, but he stops and leans on the wall next to me.

"Never seen you here," he tells me, and I shrug.

"Not one for drinking. You a bouncer?" I ask, and he nods.

"Yeah. Word of an advice: don't be an idiot," he tells me, and I stifle a laugh. He keeps smoking and I do as well. I finish my cigarette and flick it to the ground.

"You don't talk much," he comments, and I look up at him. His green eyes are bright under the light.

"Don't feel the need to," I explain, his eyes trailing over my body. Shamelessly, I should add.

"You have a lot of clothes on to be at a bar," he observes, and I furrow my eyebrows at him. My eyes glare. Who the hell is he to say that?

"So fucking what?" I say, and he smirks. A dimple presses in his cheek as the butt of the cigarette hits his lips. His lips are a dark cherry color.

"It's different. Usually girls are all exposed," he adds, flicking the last of cigarette to the ground. I frown, not knowing what this guy wants from me.

His eyes fall on my arms as I cross them over my chest. They stay there for a moment.

"I don't need the attention," I tell him, not feeling like I need to explain anything to him. I'm already saying to much.

"Good. No one should give you attention," he says, my jaw dropping.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I almost yell, coming up to him. He smiles at me and I glare at him; he's disgusting.

"I said no one should give you attention," he reiterates, and I really want to punch the smirk playing on his lips. He's an arrogant one.

"You're a dick," I tell him, his hand coming and cupping my chin. I shove his arm off me, but he takes it as an opportunity to grab my wrist. He pushes the sleeve of my left arm up, looking at the tattoos that liter my arm.

"Didn't expect a girl like you to have a sleeve," he continues to insult. My arm rips away from his touch.

"Just shut the fuck up. You're disgusting," I grit, turning around to walk back inside.

"Gonna have to get used to it," he yells, my body turning back around. I don't know what he's trying to get at, but I don't like the sound of it.

"Why would I do that? You're a fucking pig," I say, and his arms cross over his chest. We're probably a foot apart and he leans his head down, our height not all that different with the help of my boots.

"Because I have those same tattoos on my left arm," he whispers, my heart dropping to the ground. My eyes stare into his and I keep my jaw clenched.

"Nice to finally meet you, baby," he smirks, turning and walking towards the side door. My feet take a few steps backwards, my body turning. I urge for another cigarette, but I put it back before I light it. I walk straight into the bar, ignoring my surroundings and order myself two shots to try to cope with who my nameless soulmate is.