chapter three

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broken noses and strawberry cream milkshakes.

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"You're full of it."

Perhaps it was the pungent smoke assorted with marijuana and tobacco which had him light-headed, pondering whether it was the strong glass of Hennessy that pumped him with a queer feeling in his gut. It twirled and churned with disappointment once she scowled and took off the second he opened his mouth. Besides, the air was getting too stuffy for her liking, she would've left soon anyway; Luke was just the encouraging push. She hated two things: watery milkshakes and arrogant assholes. He was arrogant, couldn't care if he came across that way. The only thing that mattered to him was putting on good shows, getting good looking burners for the nights and filling his veins with booze that pretty much fueled his body on a daily basis.

He followed close behind her tracks. "C'mon, you ain't leavin' so soon, are ya?" She went through the dark hallway, smacked with brisk cold air as soon as her heels touched the concrete outside. She hugs her arms around her chest as she eyed the unoccupied car parked a couple yards down. "Your girlfriends are still inside," he said stating the clear obvious with a hint of humour lasting on his tone.

"I can see that." He wandered over to her, hands digging in his pockets, towered well over her by a few inches. She's frozen. Him, taking lengthy sluggish strides around her, circling in on her like prey. Maliciously eyeing her frame, deliberating whether she'd replenish the erotic hunger resting within him or not. "The fuck you always look so unhappy for? Whenever I see you got that lil' pout on your lips."

"Figure it out?" She mutters, though he could see the glint in her eyes, hear the hesitancy latching on her tone. "Because sadly, I had to see you twice today." His walking comes to a halt, settled in front of her, tilting his neck with a pout.

"Aw, bummer, thought you couldn't get enough of me."

She scoffed, sneaked her first glance at him since she impulsively decided to go outside. His face was glistening with sweat still—at least the side that was lit up by the blue streetlights—lips shiny and bathed with the liquor he'd been sipping just minutes ago, the perfect pink pout appearing as a dreamy coat of smooth glass, he sunk his teeth into his lips, couldn't hold back the smirk after noticing where her eyes rested. She swung on her feet with a sharp puff of fresh air, cheeks flaring up. Again, two long strides before he's back in front of her. "What you gonna stand out'ere in the cold, doll?"

"Mhm, waiting on my friends." She roamed towards the car, skin stinging with nerves just after capturing his long eager stares. "Look," he started, clutched the cigarette dangling off his ear. She watched him place the tip between his lips, flicked the match with a single hand and glazed the end until it erupted with life. "Go inside. Don't wait here alone." She doesn't answer, his eyes land of on a group of faces, all which he knew and their voracious gapes at her sparked a little annoyance, a deep sigh as he crooked his head to the starry night and exhaled a deep cloud. "I'm about to head downstairs anyway. Promise you won't have to be graced with my face for a third time. Just fuckin' go inside."

"Fine." She slipped behind him, heels clicking against the ground while she charged towards the door. He slipped a hand in hers, spun her in a matter of seconds. For a moment, his eyes tinged with something she wasn't too sure of, maybe his sunken frown would follow up with an apology? Or even a farewell? "Wait, you sure I ain't got a shot?" He mumbled through the cigarette that balanced between his lips.

His sickly charming smile propelling a glare from her, all because he managed to look so enticing despite the vulgarity that left his mouth. A shot at what exactly, she contemplated for a minute. A shot to get to know her, maybe? Scrap that, who was she kidding. She'd be nothing less than naive if she even considered to entertain that notion. Forget it. Zoe's words chiming a warning to her. Way too old for you.

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