They were so close just inches apart. Lorenzo is wearing a black t-shirt, this is the first time I'm seeing him wearing a short sleeve, allowing his perfectly built arms to be seen but the most attractive part were his tattoos that were now clearly visible on his pale skin.
On the other hand Shyla was, as usual, wearing her short shorts with a tank-top, her short blonde hair properly straightened. I see her tracing her fingers with those hideous crimson fake nails across Lorenzo’s arm, then she grasped his hands and cupped them on her small waist. As if that was not enough for her, she then closed the distance between them and wrapped her hands behind his neck. He whispered something in her ears and she smirked. She fucking smirked!
Of course, he would be saying something romantic in his delectable Italian accent and language in her ears. The thought itself made my stomach churn.
“Grace, I need to leave”, she saw where my gaze was fixed at and squeezed my hand,
“It's okay, but do you know the way back to the dorm?”
“Yes” I replied shortly, making my way to the exit but then a thought came to my mind which made me turn back.
Why am I leaving my enjoyment for a stranger, I can enjoy my life and he can enjoy his. Whatever he chooses to do or whoever he chooses to dance with. We just met two days ago, why am I having this feeling of betrayal? I shouldn't!
Going back I lean on the bar, my curls lying over one shoulder and going down the side of my silky dress. The bartender was there to take my order in a flash.
“Give me the best one here” I ordered my voice seriously cold. He takes my order and then goes back to his work. Within a few minutes, he's back with my drink in a small glass. My eyes stared at the swirling liquor, it's foul smell burning my nostrils making me scrunch my nose. I start with a small sip, it feels hot and burns my tongue all the way down my stomach.
“What is it? It tastes horrible!” I instantly regret my decision.
“Rum” the bartender replied, the name itself sounded so horrendous.
My eyes went back to my drink at hand and this time I just gulped it down in one go not letting myself think too much. By the time I was on my third drink I could feel the alcohol dancing in my veins, growing more and more with every new drink.
Spinning my gaze towards the direction of the dance floor I noticed ‘them’ still dancing. But this time the ‘drunken me’ overpowered the ‘sober me’. I made my way to the dance-floor and started swaying my body to the beats. Music to me was like turning back the clock, traveling, and returning to a previous life full of agony and loss. I embraced the music and in turn, the music took control. I found myself in a different world.
My movements flowed smoothly in a dazzling graceful enough to take away the breath of every person in the audience especially, Lorenzo. I could feel my soul become one with the music, closing my eyes I unleashed my emotions into my dance. I needed this, as badly as I needed to breathe.
Dance was something that I'd loved during my school days, the music itself made me go crazy. I was always the shy one but today the ‘drunken me’ wanted some spiciness in her life. But then again I had the urge for another glass of drink so I went to the bar-tender and ordered him to give me the same drink that he gave me last time. When I raised my heavy eyelids at the sight of Shyla getting closer to Lorenzo again, I saw him remove his hands from her back but she didn't let him go. This was enough to raise my already bubbling anger.
I made my way over to the duo with my glass of ‘Rum’ and tipped the liquor all over Shyla’s perfectly done make-up face. The look she gave me was definitely worth a million dollars.
“What the hell!” she yelled, on the other side Lorenzo just casually leaned at the corner with his fucking smirk. Shyla was about to attack me when she slipped due to the liquor on the floor with a ‘thump’.
“Stop being such a whore!” I said.
Leaving her to fend for herself I returned to my stool near the bar. A man taking a seat next to mine caught my attention. Looking at him I thought, I know the real show has now begun.
“It’s enough for today or else you’ll get sick.” he said, his voice cold but wrapped with concern. I met his gaze and couldn't stop myself from gawking,
Man, he looks damn hot in this t-shirt!!
The black material was flirting on his chest in a flawless route, but when you take a glimpse at those tattoos- the roses on his knuckles, a skull on his wrist followed by a merciless Dragon. Both his arms had the same tattoos. But the thing that grabbed my attention was something written on them, like in a historical language I couldn't understand. I wondered what its significance was. Trying to seem patient and not affected by his sudden concern I twiddled with my hair in a seemingly absent-minded way and giggled girlishly before saying,
“Why Lorenzo, did your girl toy leave?” I asked, this was enough to raise his already risen anger but boi today it’s the ‘drunken me’.
“Don’t test me!” he challenged. I folded one of my legs over the other, dangling my high heel, showing my thighs; yet maintaining an uninterested face.
“I will, I'm an adult I can drink how much ever I want to.” I replied with a smirk. Grabbing my drink I gulped it in one shot. He just stared at me like I was a child who ought to be afraid of him.
“You seem to be enjoying a lot with Shyla. Where did your girlfriend go?” I mocked, standing up from my stool. Due to the amount of alcohol in me, my clumsiness kicked in and I wobbled a bit but I managed to stay still and continued, “Go chase her.”
When I was about to reach him, my unglacefullness kicked in and I stumbled forward. He promptly clutched me in his arms and our eyes met. It takes a juncture for me to take in his emerald eyes. His eyes carried just a smear of black- as if birds on an emerald tree. They were looking at me for a while and then he said,
“Are you jealous Senõrita.”
I wanted to retort ‘no I ain't’ but he lifted me up in his arms- one arm under my legs and the other supporting my back like a groom carrying his bride.
“You bipolar rascal, fucking bastard how dare you do that! Put me down right now!!” I yelled but he ignored me and continued his way outside the bar.
“You went to Shyla. What were you saying in her ears huh? Oh yes! of course, that bullshit Italian romantic language of yours”
Still no response from him whatsoever.
“Put me down or I'll call the cops, you frick” I threatened him, my throat getting dry due to shouting but he wouldn't listen. He placed me inside his Lamborghini and put on my seat belt. I tried pushing him but he was too strong. Once he sat on the driver seat, switching on the engine he began to drive.
“Sit beside me quietly, I'll drop you to the dorm,” he ordered.
What does he think, I'm so easy to handle. No boi, I still have to take my revenge!
Taking my seatbelt off I hastily dove into his lap. He was shocked at my sudden actions but didn't say anything.
“Why sit beside you when I can be on top of you?” I asked, smirking like a crazy cat.
“Now, talk to me in your fucking Italian. Why aren't you saying anything Senõrita?” I teased tying my arms around his neck. His face was blank- difficult for me to read.
Suddenly the car stopped at the corner of the silent road. His hands cupped my hips bringing me closer to him. I struggled to get up from his lap but his hold was tight. His cold fingers put a strand of my black curl behind my ears,
“Senõrita you don't have any idea of what I want to say and actually do to you in every romantic way.” His accent had such a mischievous rhythm as if he were the master of his own movie. I could have sat there all day simply to listen, all my alcoholic words were now glued to my throat. He moistened his upper lip by running his tongue along it making me gulp loudly. His moist lips were asking me to give in. His eyes dancing on my cleavage- girl why didn't you think twice before jumping on his lap.
“sembri sexy in nero, Signorina”(Translation: You look hot in black Senõrita) he murmured in my ears, his lips slightly brushing my earlobes sending goosebumps on my skin. My mind was ready to shut down but still feeling dizzy I tried to keep my eyelids wide and asked,
“Why do you wear black always?”
“Maybe it’s my favorite” he replied, and with that, I didn't have further energy left to talk, so I kept my head over his chest, taking in his scent, as I drifted off to sleep.
This was how I ended up dozing in Lorenzo's arms.