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littlesilverplatinum · 6 years ago

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A Herd Better Left Unknown – Another, Where You Belong – Two

---

Toes clad in nylons peak out over the edge of the felt seat. Her fingers, absentmindedly pulling at the hem that never seemed to sit comfortably around the foot. To tug it above, below or across the curve of her toes appeared to be a dreadful decision to make most of the time. Either resulted in mild discomfort impossible to force out of your mind.

But perhaps she needed a bit of a distraction.

The oval glass that lined the closed, narrow space that built the plane was Hikari’s only current window to the outside world. A world, that held nothing but oceans for as far as the eyes could see. There was a calm in that, as well as worry. One taken care of, by mindlessly finding herself tasks.

To get comfortable, in a childish such manner. --To sit as she did at her age was, perhaps, an oddity.

---

[. . . On a white country road

The dusty breeze stands still.

I drop down to the floor with a bump,

as some kids play marbles.

Shine-shine, glitter-glitter . . .]

In low tunes on the radio, summer songs come to play on repeat through the late spring. Hums of childish notes ring clear under the baritone voice of the male soloist. In the distance, chatter that clearly would turn into shouting – had her mother been the kind to do so, spilled past the kitchen archway.

The call Johanna had received after Hikari’s ‘outburst’ at her grandmother’s home had been as expected as it had been unexpected. Three days between what had been a nightmare – of foul words spoken as fact on a balcony that held no warmth, it was almost surprising that Sofia had waited as long as she had to let her opinion be known.

--The cigarette stench still clung to her nose, impossible to get rid of no matter how hard she tried.

[. . . Well, it’s the summer

The deep green of the shrine grove

A solemn silence has fallen.

An old tearoom

Someone swings from the store front . . .]

Johanna had come to her, then. Palms gently gripped at her lap as she took a seat near the daughter she no longer felt was her own. No longer hers to care for, nor hers to give advice to. --Hikari would not meet her discernments, but that was not something new.

“Grandma asked me to say ‘hello’,” she would try, voice soft and hesitant. A smile that meant little testing its limits.

Hikari almost laughed. “… She did not.”

Johanna’s hand would come to rest against her thigh, then. Something Hikari did not react to, though she perhaps would’ve under any other circumstances.

“… She doesn’t mean to be upset with you, Hikari. Her choice in words doesn’t mean anything, either.”

---

The pads of her fingertips felt cold against the glass shielding her from the vast skies.

Perhaps Sofia truly hadn’t meant anything by her choice in words. Perhaps she simply carried a grudge along with information she thought herself to have gained by the small amount of interaction she and her daughter had kept throughout the years. --Relied on rumors, on her own sick ideas, rather than facts.

‘You’re a product of a child molester and a daughter that picked the worst life for herself.’

Nausea sat prominent in the pit of her stomach. Her knees, pressing tighter against her chest as her arms finds their way around them.

‘He did like them young, after all.’

Perhaps Sofia was nothing but delusional and deranged. An aged old lady who didn’t even know what she was spewing in moments of stress – nor in unfamiliar situations that her aid was not present to assist her through. Veronika had been inside during this time, after all.

Hikari’s fingers finds the length of her hair and pulls.

‘He is a child molester, sick – what’s to say he didn’t let his hands wander on his own ch-?’

Without much care, as the disgust she had felt in the days long past boiled within her throat, blunt nails dug at her scalp in an attempt to find reason. To find leverage – an advantage in a situation that was difficult to comprehend and work through. --How could Sofia say such a thing – she had known exactly what her words meant.

She had said it all with ill intentions. To hurt her, to hurt her mother – to hurt her father.

Sofia hadn’t known her father. Not in any way shape or form. Only two people, besides herself and her mother, could claim that knowledge.

“Miss?”

The low hum of the plane’s engine filled her senses. The chatter of voices speaking in hushed tones of trivial matters such as dinner or ‘where one may find a place to sleep once they were safely back on land’. And, slowly – gradually, the white-knuckled grip of her hair would loosen. Fingers, wading through the inky strands that fell like oil around her features.

Slate eyes met those of a flight attendant. A pretty, young woman dressed all in blue. Her blonde hair, up in a bun under a hat Hikari found to be rather cute.

“We are preparing for landing, miss. Please sit back properly and fasten your seatbelt.”

Below them, the stark city lights of Olivine made themselves known. Dots of stars spreading over what was previously nothing but ocean – now, the warmth that only a home could bring forth sat in its wake. Hikari gave a nod, indicating that she understood and just as quickly as the woman had appeared – she left.

The act of righting herself became one that felt mechanical. As though it was not her who did it, but rather someone else. Perhaps something else- --Perhaps it was the anticipation traversing her nerves like ants that caused this feeling.

Perhaps she was simply imagining it.

---

[. . . Chirp-chirp

It’s the voice of the cicadas

Chirp-chirp . . .]

Hikari lingered in the doorway that lead to her mother’s room – fingers burnt from early adventure picking at wood that needed a fresh coat of paint. Johanna was a homemaker by heart, but a carpenter she was not.

The same woman was on her knees, top half fully hidden from her daughters sight within a closet littered with boxes that held everything and nothing. Items of which Hikari had never seen before – trinkets of music boxes and lights that lacked bulbs. Cords, notes and dresses too small for anyone that lived within these walls.

---

“Is it really so important to you?” Johanna had asked. “To know them?”

“Of course it is. I- That’s why I wanted to talk to Sofia.”

“Yes, I know that but… That didn’t go so well. I would hate for you to leave for Johto, only to get the same reaction from your father’s parents.”

“It… It will be different. They will want me, we are family after all.”

“Well, remember that you have me, sweetheart. Isn’t that enough?”

---

As a sliver of the doors wood frame peeled off – the tip, digging into the pad of her thumb (her mind, telling her to push it deeper still and draw blood-), Hikari knew she couldn’t answer that question with outmost honesty. At least, not to her mother’s face.

… Of course Johanna wasn’t enough. When had she ever been?

It was why the mention of her paternal grandparents had come up. A side of the family neither of the women truly knew much about. Though Johanna spent her youth with Koh – shared more about herself to him than to her own parents, she barely could claim to know the names of his own.

There was, however, hope. Any of the belonging Koh left behind in his hasty retreat could hold the information needed.

--Which was what the mother of the duo was now searching for. Digging through boxes that hadn’t seen the light of day in years – holding memories that both filled her heart with joy, as well as hurt her at the remembrance of loss. Pictures, books and writings in an all too familiar handwriting laid bare around her knees within the closet.

More than once, she thought better than to share the pictures that she found with Hikari.

[. . . Well, it’s the summer . . .]

Eventually, they had found what they had been searching for. A wrinkly piece of paper that had seen better days. --It was all that Hikari needed to make up her mind.

---

The streets of Olivine sat different than those back home. Where cobbled streets and gravel paths once made up the majority of towns, now paved streets and soil were the decided factors in terms of roadwork. It felt foreign in all the wrong ways, yet perhaps there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that. For as she took a deep breath – the salty scent of the ocean nearby, filling her lungs until she couldn’t hold it anymore – Hikari felt lighter. Better. --As though a weight had come to lift from her breast. As though something was gone, now replaced with an anticipation she hadn’t felt since she was twelve years old.

“So…” Hikari lulled her head to herself, eyes following the homes that lined the street for but a moment before she dug her hand into the pocket of her coat. A piece of clothing unbefitting the spring that Johto held, perhaps, – as back home, snow still littered the grounds wherever you went.

Within it, a neatly folded piece of paper made itself known against her fingertips.

‘Hiroji and Masae Otsu. Off the beaten path, Ecruteak City.’

Her mother’s scribbled handwriting was her only remembrance of home.

Light footsteps in the quiet night, the sound only rivaled by chatter of bars past glass doors as she wandered by. The bumps and turns the wheels of her luggage took, held its own unique quality that almost felt dreamlike. And had this been like any other of her visits to foreign regions – then perhaps she would’ve lingered within the port, or found herself bedding. … Entertainment, or to simply take time to sit by the ocean and gain the sense that everything in this world was right once more.

However… she would rather move forward, than to stay in this city that by the end of the day meant so little to her.

She wasn’t here to tourist around, after all.

---

Hikari had always known of her father’s roots. Not only because many children of Sinnoh had at least one foreign father or mother, most commonly from the neighboring regions, but because Koh had been prominent with teaching her the customs he himself had grown up with. Johto and its sister region, Kanto, were neighbors to the isolated Sinnoh – yet their differences were worlds apart. A commonality in language meant nothing, if the structures that founded them sat different at their roots.

Hikari had not known of a difference in her behavior, until she entered kindergarten and saw that to bow and slur your words were not common behavior among the other children. --Sometimes, she regretted righting her way of speaking to mimic that of her mother’s accent, rather than her fathers. It lost its quality – and she lost what little she shared with him.

But as Ecruteak City spread before her, a long night of nothing but walking (and a quick rest of the road, if the stains that lined the hem of her skirt were anything to go by) through the wilderness that didn’t hold the same thickness as that of Sinnoh – Hikari couldn’t help but feel something akin to shame about not having taken the opportunity to visit Johto earlier in her admittedly short life.

Though it was still the earliest of hours – where dew clung to blades of grass and a haze that tasted of water spread over the streets (as though in a fairytale of long forgotten years), Ecruteak buzzed with quiet life. Of women at their balconies and front doors, dusting off the stains of the night from paved platforms. Boys carrying paper packages under their arms, jogging past her as though in a hurry to deliver the mail before the larger part of the community woke to the world once more.

--Young girls that perhaps were her own age, dressed in the finest of silk robes walking in lines of two between buildings that didn’t lack in beautiful architecture. Their wooden shoes, clacking against the pavement that barely held a hint of cobble within its texture.

Their white painted faces stood out to her the most – a beauty she had never been exposed too before in her life. And as she knelt to a crouch under the wooden panel that played as cover over a stained window, being careful in tucking her skirt around her limbs in a fashion that was presentable, her eyes couldn’t help but track the girls as they one by one entered a building that played tunes unfamiliar to her ears.

An acoustic sound, of something like a guitar yet it could not be.

After the last young girl disappeared from her sight, a significantly older woman (dare she say, someone who could perhaps be her grandmothers age, had she fully known that number) took their place. Walked out to seemingly breathe in the early morning air, her hand digging into the sleeve of her own robe to find herself a mindless task to fulfill – until her eyes landed on Hikari, who diverted her own gaze just as quickly.

If it was rude to stare… Then she hadn’t known.

But instead of dwelling on the matter, she once more brought out her mother’s scribbled note. Though less neat than previously, as she hadn’t taken care in properly folding it once she brought it out before, the writing sat no less prominent.

Names and lose directions.

‘Off the beaten path, Ecruteak City’ meant as little to her as French, for she did not know the language more than she knew her way around Johto. And as her eyes scanned the surroundings – roads that waded like snakes between wooden homes and buildings, Hikari could not even begin to guess which way would take her where she needed to go.

“I’ll just have to… To try every direction I suppose.” She mumbled under her breath – righting herself up to a stance once more. Her palms, smoothing out the length of her skirt over her knees and just as she righted a misplaced strand of hair behind her ear, she once more caught the eyes of that one particular woman.

--Something akin to a cigar, she figured, sat between slender fingers and the smoke that puffed past painted lips mingled almost seamlessly with the surrounding mist. Her feet took her to the woman before a decision had properly been made within her mind – the wheels of her luggage, bumpy and loud against the shifting and inconsistent roads. It broke the serenity of the morning, rudely so, perhaps – yet she couldn’t do much about it.

It was hesitantly, quietly, that she voiced her troubles. “Ma’am I was wondering if… If you could help me find someone?”

For a moment, it appeared as though the woman hadn’t heard her – or, perhaps, that she was ignoring her. Something that stumped the young girl’s confidence for but a moment. But as another huff (of a slender stick that looked as though it was almost electrical) rolled its smoke into the atmosphere, coal eyes came to meet blue.

“… Go on, kid.”

---

What had been meant as a simple show of directions, ended with a cup of tea being shared by a low table opposite of each other. As young girls – the same ones she had come to see earlier, dressed in gorgeous robes that Hikari found herself to be just a little bit jealous of – served them the hot beverage and took care in showing pleasantries she had thought was only befitting the most important of company, words were exchanged about interests and desires.

Who Hikari was – to which she replied with her full, given name – to why she decided to leave a place such as Sinnoh for the quiet of Johto. --Something she answered with honestly and care.

“I haven’t seen my father in years,” she would start. And if there was a tenderness that came over the older woman features, a slow nod of her head to indicate something that may be seen as sympathy, then it was minimal enough to pass Hikari right by, “… But I know that his parents are from here. I want to see them, because maybe they would like to meet me as well. Or, well… at least that’s what I hope will be the case.”

Kazuyo, as she had come to learn was the woman’s name, gave a laugh that almost rumbled within her chest. “I’m sure they will be delighted. Family is very important here, you must know. A lost granddaughter is something that will be welcomed with open arms.”

And Hikari wanted to believe her, though doubt would mar her features without her knowledge. Something Kazuyo quickly commented on, before tea time was over.

“If they don’t want you, then you can stay with me and my girls. You would make a wonderful geisha.”

---

‘Off the beaten path’, in this case, seemed to indicate south, then east. Directions easy to follow, until you actually had to divert from the laid path ahead. More than perhaps she should’ve, Hikari left her luggage behind to search the tree lines to her left – to try and locate a road that looked meaningful, but with no true or honest luck.

Kazuyo had been terribly helpful and, if she let herself pass judgement so quick – Hikari trusted her intentions to be good. There was no reason not to, as the woman had done nothing but be kind towards her. --It was she who didn’t know the lay of the land well enough to find a road to take her to her grandparent’s quiet farm. It was she, as her eyes once more scanned her surroundings, who was lost.

And it was her own fau-

“Oh.”

Faltering in her step, Hikari touched the back of her left hand to her eyes – rubbing away the sleep that still lingered within her. Tea had been helpful in waking her up, for but a moment. However, the withdrawal of the caffeine did her no favors. Perhaps she should’ve rested properly, rather than pushed on through the night. --Yet she was conscious enough to see a road – lush with foliage, yet prominent, distinguished with nothing but an iron beam and a sign.

*Otsu Estate*

She had found it. Home.

Something akin to butterflies came to form within her gut at the prospect of meeting those she so desperately sought – enough for her to fumble in her haste to wander the trampled path. Her luggage fell in her attempt to push it under the beam, staining the outside in mud. Next, she almost lost her shoes in her own attempt at traversing the beam, the length of her skirt impossible to keep modest around her limbs.

But this little mishap didn’t truly matter, for down this road laid the home that her father had grown up in. Down this road, her grandparents could be found.

With a spring to her step, Hikari hurried towards her future.

---

Much like the architecture of Ecruteak, the Otsu Estate was made out of nothing but wood. For such a grand name, it was a rather modest building – yet as she wandered a path through fields of rice and other such crops, she supposed that the land they owned was the true bringer of its name. Propped on a short hill, verandas lined the perimeter of the house. What she guessed to be paper shields, enclosing it save for a few that sat open by their given sets of stairs.

It was beautiful, in all the way that Sinnoh was not. Her grip tightened around the luggage she so feverishly had trudged along – her strides lengthening, until a voice made itself known.

“Are you lost, young miss?”

She paused, not for the first time that day. Slate eyes seeking the fields clad in mist, until they fell on a man. Dressed in what she could only describe as slacks – robes fitted loosely around his torso that made him appear larger than he otherwise would have. --His hands sat cupped behind his back, arched as it were.

It took her a moment to find her voice. “I… I’m here to see Hiroji and-“

“You’re speaking to him.”

A heartbeat – two.

If the world could come to a stop, then right then and there would be the moment to do so. For Hikari felt her breath be lost within her throat – felt numbness take over her fingertips, enough for her to lose her grip of her luggage. It unceremoniously fell to its hind legs, before toppling over into the dirt path.

With less grace than was deserved, Hikari descended the modest hill that separated the farmland from the rest on the palms of her hands spread behind her for support. Her skirt, taking the blunt of the soil that lingered after previous downpour – yet she did not seem to mind. Did not seem to care.

For her grandfather was right there.

And had she held any sense, any inkling of the manners that were once beaten down her throat like gravel – then she wouldn’t have taken to wrapping her arms around his waist the second she got close enough to do so. Her cheek, pressing against his chest to hear a heartbeat rattle within his cage. --Had she held any sense, any inkling of manners, then she would’ve understood that the wet sobs that wrecked through her were not a proper, nor normal, reaction in the given situation.

But there was simply a relief – an overwhelming such feeling – at having found a piece of herself that had long been gone.

Hiroji was not her father, no. But in this moment, it almost felt as though he was.

“It’s me,” she would express through a shake in her speech. His hands, laying to rest against her shoulders which only prompted more rushed sentences past tight lips. “It’s me, I’m Hikari I’m- It’s me.”

And as her eyes sought his – a dark coal that mimicked those of many others she had come to see in this region (like those of her fathers, of which she hadn’t seen in years) – there was a sinking feeling within her gut at the possibility of him not knowing. --Not knowing her name. Not knowing who she was – not knowing that she was their grandchild of a son long gone.

But as seconds ticked by as minutes – an eternity, if she counted – something tender would reach his features in a way that exceeded any and all of her expectations.

“… Hikari,” he would speak her given name, a sound that almost caused tears to spill over her cheeks. His hand that held a shake, yet strength, cupping her cheek as though he needed to look at her just a little more closely. “Have you grown so much already? My, how time pass quickly…”

And the young girl laughed – let herself smile in earnest, in a fashion that had felt so foreign to her for so long. Hiroji wasn’t like Sofia – he didn’t look at her as though she was a mistake. An annoyance. Someone to feel shame over.

No.

“Yes, yes I- I’m not a little girl anymore. But it’s me!”

He looked as her as though she was family, like a treasure to keep dear. It was everything she had come to wish for.

---

Masae – a woman short in stature, with a back as hunched as that of her husbands – had been just as enthusiastic about her arrival, if not more. Words past chapped lips played at affection. Her wrinkled hands, cupping Hikari’s cheeks in a fashion she figured would be a common occurrence from then on.

“Oh, you look just like him, don’t you?” Masae complemented, her granddaughters luggage being brought up winding stairs by her late husband. These were words Hikari had never gotten to fully hear in her life before. Because, though her eastern complexion mimicked that of her fathers more, it was always Johanna who had earned the praise for having a daughter that resembled her so closely.

“I do? You’re- You’re too kind, I don’t.”

“Don’t say that. I will show you just how much you resemble him later, alright?”

A promise and show and tell, after Hikari got herself situated within their home – a suggestion of changing out of her clothing, to something less soiled – was enough for Hikari to follow along with their wishes.

The moment the door, thin as paper, slid to a close behind her and nothing but silence formed around her – the reality of the situation beat at her in soft blows.

A quiet, which allowed her to fully hear the pounding of her own heart within her throat. Excitement, as well as the fear that she had held of the possible rejection and distaste that very well could’ve been a reality. Lingering within her limbs like shakes of epileptic shocks. She had expected nothing, as well as everything – and in luck she had never considered herself to have, she had gotten the best possible outcome.

It was simply unbelievable. Something that did not happen to her, for happiness had not been within her life for so, so long.

The soft padding of her bare feet against the room’s wooden flooring added to the serenity. The dream. A window, propped open by a bed that sat elevated and neat. Her knee came to rest upon it (taking care in keeping the soiled hem of her skirt bunched within the palms of her hands) to take in the view she had been a part of just moments ago.

A fairytale made reality, and in this story – Hikari was not the tragic protagonist who came to suffer by actions out of her hands. --In this story, she was the lucky few that got to watch everything simply pass by.

---

That the room she had earned herself in such a short amount of time was one that lacked personality of any true kind, didn’t deter her from wondering if it once had belonged to her father. --An idea that brought more unfiltered joy, then it perhaps had any right to, as she unbuckled the straps that held her luggage closed shut.

It was a question she would have to pose at another time.

---

As Hikari made her way down stairs of exposed wood – a lengthy dress more befitting summer than late spring swaying around her bare legs, on repeat within her mind the song once played at her mother’s home made itself known.

The lulling voice of the man, a soft hum within her mind as she once more joined her grandparents in their common room.

[. . . Parasol spin-spin, and I’m bored

Parasol spin-spin, and I’m bored

Chasing stitches in the sky,

And when I cross some paving stones . . .]

For minutes, hours perhaps, quiet chatter of questions and stories came to be shared between generations once lost. Pictures of Hikari in her youth – ones that her father had apparently sent his mother in a show of fatherly pride. Something that he had never displayed back home.

--That the smile that played at her lips through it all (as fingers once burned by the creatures that would eventually protect her with all that they could played at picture edges that sat water damaged and brittle) was a sight once rare, didn’t seem to matter in this moment.

[. . . A summer shower

Comes along with it. ]

As the beating of fresh rain smattered against the house’s wooden roof – bleeding puddles within fertile soil in fields ever tended, Hikari came to wonder if perhaps…

Just perhaps.

It wasn’t so wrong of her to feel this happiness. Just this once.

#(ic - muse)#Story Progression - Hikari #-drabble-#important #FINALLY DONE WITH THIS AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

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userlando · 8 years ago

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Saviour (Ethan)

Summary: Ethan is the bartender and he helps you when you get drugged. Word Count: 2,731 Warnings: Mentions of drugs. A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaahhh, sorry for being MIA. But as all of you may know, I’ve recently gotten a new job and on top of that, I’m balancing social life, family time and studies so it’s been hard. Hope you like this though xx

You wore your best dress that you had bought a while ago, saving it for the perfect occasion. Your make-up was done beautifully, heels taller than you were used to and your hair was looking better than ever, fully intending to make the most of this night. The club you had chosen was a new one that had just opened up in your town and even though it had only been there for a week, people were buzzing over it, talking about the great DJ and the amazing drinks. And when you walked through the doors with your friends, you could understand why people had been hyping the place as much as they had. It was dark, the strobe lights blinking and lighting up the dancefloor. The dancefloor was huge, bigger than many of the club’s in town, tiles blinking to the beat of the song in different colors.

It was packed with sweaty, drunk people who moved and jumped to the heavy beat of the songs that were booming through the speakers and you put a hand on your chest as you felt the bass resonate through. Your friends nodded appreciatively, clearly just as impressed as you were as they grabbed each other’s hands to weave through the crowd of drunk people. Your grip on your friend’s hand tightened as you pushed through, coming to a halt in front of a security guard that stood right outside the line of the VIP room. As you eyed the place, you suddenly felt thankful that one of your friends knew the owner and had scored VIP, just so you had somewhere else to sit since every other booth and seats seemed to be occupied.

As you sat down and made yourselves comfortable on the fancy, leather seats, you sighed as you felt the slight sting from your heels, having walked more than you were used to in them.

“Oh my God, who is that?” You heard from your friend sitting closest to you ask over the music and you looked up automatically, interested in who had caught her eye.

Right by the entrance of the VIP lounge stood the most attractive guy you had ever laid your eyes on. Your jaw almost dropped open as you took in the slight quiff and the messy hair, the strong jawline that would probably appear in your wet dreams, the dimples on his cheek as he laughed at something the guard said, hands moving around animatedly as he spoke. Your eyes slid over to his throat, mouth growing dry as you watched the vein in his neck and the roughness of his larger than normal hands clutching a notepad. He was wearing a fancy, black poloshirt that hugged his arms beautifully, ripped jeans clinging to his thick thighs and wrists adorned with wristbands and leather bracelets.

You could faintly hear your friends chattering beside you, gushing over the Greek God that stood before you. But you were so busy with staring, eyes growing wide as his eyes glanced your way, the smile on his lips stretching just a tad bit further. Or maybe it was just the lights in the club, or your imagination. Hotness patted the security guy on the shoulder and slung his long, toned legs over the rope to get across. You dragged your eyes away, feeling heat creeping up your neck and something deep coiling in your stomach as he started walking towards you.

“Hi ladies, what can I get you?” His voice was deeper than you expected, but you refused to look up, eyes fixed on his Vans.

“Your number, maybe.” One of your friends said and the girls giggled. You tried to hold back a smile, opting to look up at Hotness’ face, wanting to see his reaction.

He grinned, gripping the ball pen that he’d hooked behind his ear, clicking it and bringing the notepad up in his line of sight.

“I’m flattered, but I’m on duty.” He said, loud enough for the group to hear. You could tell that he wasn’t particularly interested judging by his body language, and for some reason it made you smile. Just then, he glanced down at you, winking.

You turned away, feeling your cheeks heat up as your friend closest to you proceeded to nudge your naked thigh, having clearly caught the interaction. But you refused to look back up, not wanting to ogle him like your friends were doing as they shouted their order of shots and drinks. Hotness disappeared with the promise that he’d be back in a few with the drinks and you finally looked up.

“Oh my God, he totally has the hots for you.” One of your friends said and you snorted out a laugh, shaking your head.

“Definitely not, he just wants tips.” You said, waving it off with a roll of your eyes.

But on the inside, your body was on fire. It had been a while since someone as attractive as him had caught your attention this way, and he had clearly noticed you. Which didn’t happen often. The guys who’d ask you out were always kind of average, not that there were a lot of them. But this walking Adonis was on a whole new level of hotness.

After a round of shots and having sipped on your drinks, you headed out to the dancefloor with the full intention of having the best time. You danced and yelled out lyrics, laughing as you twirled around with your friends on the floor, swaying your hips and touching your hair, the music taking over your body in ways it never had before.

The dress clung to your back thanks to the sweat you had worked up, your mouth feeling dry as you stopped dancing.

“Hey, I’m just gonna cool off for a bit.” You yelled out to your friend over the music. She turned toward you, nodding her head and giving you two thumbs up.

You left your friends on the dancefloor, pushing through the dancing people all the way over to the bar. It was packed with people shouting their orders, but you still managed to find a free spot on the far left, wobbling over there and sitting down on the high barstool. Your feet were aching and your mouth was dry, eyes feeling weirdly hazy as you squinted out over the throng of people by the bar. The alcohol had clearly done its job, but you never realized how far gone it had gotten until you calmed down from all the dancing.

“Hey, you.” You heard a voice and you glanced up, mouth dropping open as you caught sight of Hotness. He was smiling gently, fishing out a bottle of beer from beneath the counter and popping the cap open. You watched as he slid it across the counter to a customer. “What can I get you?”

You struggled to find the words, but somehow you managed to get out the word water. He nodded and poured you a glass of water, popping a few icecubes in it and sliding it over to you. Your hand felt oddly limp as you reached for the drink, the glass cool against your sweaty hand as you gripped it.

“Are you okay?” Hotness asked and you nodded, bringing the rim of the glass up to your lips and gulping the water down.

The more water you got in your system, the more you were craving.

“You looked good out on the dancefloor.”

You glanced up, cheeks heating up as you gave him a shy smile. So he had watched you. Suddenly you felt self-conscious over the way you had been dancing and acting, thinking back and trying to figure out if you’d done anything annoying.

“What’s your name?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you. The next thing that came out of your mouth was, “I’ve been calling you Hotness for the longest time.”

You didn’t even realize that it had been said until he let out a surprised laugh, a beautiful tint of pink rising in his cheeks as his eyebrows shot up. It was a nice laugh, you wouldn’t mind hearing it often.

“It’s Ethan.” He said and you nodded slowly, thinking that it suited him in a peculiar way. Just then, some customer shouted at him from far, waving his card as he called him over.

Ethan gave you a small smile and a nod before walking away to take his order. You watched him go, feeling drowsy all of a sudden as you gazed down at your water. Maybe if you rested your head for a bit, the dizziness would disappear. With that thought in mind, you put your head on your arm that was resting on the counter, sighing as you closed your eyes.

You blinked your eyes open, wincing when a sharp pain jabbed at your head. It was cold and you were sitting on something hard. Panic spread through you as you brought a weak hand up to your head, clutching it as it began throbbing painfully.

“Hey.” You heard someone whisper gently and you turned your head so fast that you almost got a whiplash, crying out in pain when the movement made the throbbing in your head increase. “Fuck. Careful.”

It took a while for you to open your eyes, but when you did you caught sight of the bartender. He was sitting beside you with a wet towel in his hand, hair mussy and back against a wall. It was then that you realized that you were sitting in an alley outside the club, music booming from the inside that didn’t help the situation with your head at all.

You stared at him in fear, feeling bile rise in your throat as you tried to remember what had happened. The last memory you had was of you sitting down by the bar. The bartender’s eyes softened as he took in your facial expression.

“Nothing happened,” He said and then he paused. “Well, something did happen but not between.. Us.”

He grimaced at how awkward that sounded, shifting around as he turned his body towards you.

“What happened?” You croaked, hand coming up to touch your throat as you smacked your lips, mouth weirdly dry.

“Someone must’ve drugged you. I took some orders and when I came back to check on you, you had passed out completely. So I took you out here to get some air in you and you...”

He trailed off and your eyes went wide.

“I what?” You asked, not sure whether you wanted to know.

“I coaxed you to vomit just to get whatever you had out of your system.” He said and you swallowed, closing your eyes in mortification as you leaned your head back against the wall. “Are you cold?”

He had wrapped you up in a thick bomber jacket that you suspected was his, and your exposed legs were cold but you still made a noise in your throat as if to say no. You heard him sigh.

You tried to think back to all the drinks you had consumed, brows furrowing as it all came back to you. The dancing, the drunk guys approaching you and your friends, offering you drinks. And you, already buzzed, took it without any question. Bile rose up in your throat before you could stop it and you had the time to push yourself up on your feet, stumbling a few feet away to chuck whatever was left in your stomach in a trashcan.

Tears leaked out of your eyes as you dry-heaved, wanting the ground below you to open up and swallow you whole as you realized that the only guy you had genuinely felt attracted to, was watching you throw up and being disgusting in general. It was just your luck, too.

But the guy in question came up behind you, gathering your hair gently and pushing it back. You sniffled as you supported your weight with your hands on either side of the trashcan, closing your eyes as his other hand touched your back in a gentle manner, almost as if to comfort you.

“That’s probably the last of it. You should drink some water.” He said after a moment of silence and you straightened your back, feeling him let go of your hair as you stood straight.

You expected to be met with disgust written all over his face, but he didn’t look nowhere near disgusted as he gazed at you. He was smiling softly, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he walked back to where you both had been sitting and picking up a waterbottle that you hadn’t seen. He screwed the cap open and waited for you to walk up to him, handing it to you.

“How do I know that you haven’t drugged this?” You asked, trying to make a joke to break the tense silence. It was stupid though, because you knew that he wouldn’t go through all of this just to drug you.

But he got your joke, lips cracking into a grin as he let out a small laugh. You smiled at the sound, grabbing the bottle, wet from condensation. As you drank from it, you could hear him shuffle on his feet.

“How could I do such a vile thing, when you called me hotness?” He said and you choked on the water, having the time to clamp your palm over your mouth before you spluttered water all over the man.

Images flashed in your head and you groaned in embarrassment as you recalled your small confession to him, squeezing your eyes shut as his laugh echoed through the empty alleyway.

“Why would you remind me?” You tried to sound pained, but the giggle escaping your lips did nothing to help. “Would’ve been fine with me to just forget about that.”

You opened your eyes and almost startled as you were met with a grim look on his face, eyes clouded and lips set into a straight line as he stared at you.

“It scared the hell out of me, you know.” He said, voice low with severity. “Just seeing you on that counter, passed out... I’ve never dealt with anyone getting drugged so that was terrifying.”

Your stomach swooped as you realized the seriousness of it all. You had been drugged and it could have gone so badly. But you were out in the cold, fresh air and as okay as you could be thanks to the man standing in front of you. How were you supposed to ever repay him?

“Thank you,” You said softly, making him look up. “I don’t know what could’ve happened to me if you hadn’t helped me out.”

The man shook his head, as if to dismiss your words and the thoughts that came with them.

“Don’t thank me. Any decent person would do it.”

You didn’t know why you felt a stab of disappointed jab at your heart at his words. He was right, any person in their right minds would help a person in need out. But you had been hoping that he was attracted to you as you were to him. Which, you knew he wasn’t after the whole debacle of throwing up and just being right out disgusting in front of him. Yet, you still tried one more time.

“Can I repay you somehow? Maybe we can get something to eat now.” You said, trying not to sound and feel too hopeful.

The guy grinned with a shrug.

“Well, it is almost three a.m. so I suggest we get some pancakes.” He said and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Extra syrup and ice cream.”

You giggled, reaching down to pull off your heels and gathering them in your hands, sighing as the soles of your feet touched the hard, cold ground.

“I’m Ethan, by the way.” He said and you blushed, realizing that you’d forgotten his name and hadn’t even bothered to ask for it. “You can call me hotness though.”

You slapped his arm with a laugh. He smiled at you and reached around for your heels, grabbing them so he could hold them. You watched with a small, stunned smile as he offered you his arm. With a laugh, you hooked your arm through his, letting him lead you out to the sidewalk.

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