"You're a psychopath! You're crazy!"
"Everything I did! I did for love."
~~~~~~~~~
Reyna Mavi.
Elegant. Sweet. Daring. Fierce. Beautiful. Brilliant.
Reyna Mavi grew up on the coast before moving to New York with wanderlust running through her vei...
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It's fate. Look at here you stand in front of me. Cheeks flushed red in alcohol and those gorgeous brown eyes I could drown in.
Well you're not standing anymore. In fact you're slumped over the counter. Little words make sense with the way your slurring. I flag down the bartender, a beautiful woman but she doesn't compare to you.
"Hey, could I get a glass of water?" I yell over the sound of the music. The bartender throws me nod and a smile until she sees you. I'm not surprised to see the change in her demeanor. Her eyes narrow at my appearance and she looks at the situation with cautious eyes.
It made sense.
She sort of reminded me of Dante. Maybe it was how quickly genuine smiles turned to suspicious nervous glances.
"Who are you?"
"He's my Oldie Goldie!" You giggle reaching up and pinching my cheek.
"Joe Goldberg. I'd prefer it if you at least called me Joe." I answer instead swatting off your hands. As I suspected my gentle push warrants another determined pull from you as I see your pupils are dilated.
You like that I'm here.
"My Goldie." You hum nuzzling into my shoulder. You're so warm and you're so cute.
I laugh at your antics before helping you sit up straight but keep my hands on your wrists. Not willing to let you fall.
Not willing to let you go sooner than I have to.
"Glass of water." Comes the bartenders voice and I ,of course, take the opportunity to care for you.
"At this point it's less of wanting to be someone's white knight and more of a Saviour Complex isn't it?" Beck whispers from behind me, her breath is cold and I'd shiver if it weren't for the way you lean into my touch. You're so warm.
"Come on, let's drink this and you'll feel better." I soothe and am not surprised to see you reject it. What does surprise me is why you're rejecting it.
"Nooo. I dun want water." You bat at my hands and I have to move to avoid you from spilling the cup. "I just wanna get drunk!"
"It's not water." I lie to you. I know it's wrong to lie, but if I'm lying for your own good than can you really be mad at me? "It's straight H, a new liquor. I thought you'd like it."
Your eyes light up at that and you nod, leaning into me again, it takes me a second to realize you want me to pour the liquid into your mouth.
I don't know how long it takes to serve you the water but you're so pliable , so obedient in drinking this water that I am certain it was not long enough. But if you're this pliable, it's not a good idea to let you stay in a bar and it's better to get you home.
