#firstwriting week one

[unravellingdescent]

Her Order

CLACK! Another sunken ball followed by laughter, cheers, and frustrations. It was pretty lively for a Thursday night. Well, that’s always been the case ever since she started showing up; and tonight, would be no different. I’ve served many customers of vast characters before, some even from beyond the sea, but no one like her. No, she was different. The mystifying aura that would charm you in, the elegance in every step she took and every move she made, and the beauty beyond any I’d seen. The true personification of if looks could kill.

…

There she was, walking into a room filled with silence and eyes gazing upon her… even the loud music had dissipated almost as if acknowledging her presence.

“What’ll it be tonight ma’am?”

“I’ll have the usual,” she’d reply as she seated herself across from me.

The usual huh? To be honest, I don’t even know what the usual is. Sometimes she enjoyed a sweet taste, the cute bubbly ones, and other times she preferred something more… spicy. Long Island it is, I mean, it didn’t matter what I served her. Whether cocktail, straight vodka, or even off the tap, I don’t seem to recall her ever complaining… Though, I don’t seem to recall her ever actually drinking them either.

She just needed to keep me busy with her, so she’d have someone to talk to. I knew that, and yet I couldn’t resist falling for it every time. It was always about the same thing though, a new guy she’d meet and what she thought of them. Most of the time it was about men who left a bitter taste in her mouth, the toxic kind. The kind that would hurt her and make her sick, ones that she felt poisoned her youth. Sometimes it was about the older ones, something about them ageing like fine wine. Other times it was about those younger than her, how they’d make her feel superior, as if a lioness hunting for a tender fawn.

There was one though, that was different. One that she did not stop talking about for hours, one who she truly loved in a sense. Who’d have known a woman of her status would ever fall for someone? She’d constantly talk about him, and how no one after him could compare to the emotions he made her feel. He was charming, but soft. Gentle and kind. Rich and of high status. Though I don’t think those meant anything to her, after all, he’s no longer with her.

That didn’t stop her from talking though, the sweetness of his lips, the way he’d shiver in excitement as she kissed his neck, the smoky yet calming scent of his cologne. She’d even talk about the explicit thing’s they did that she never usually mentioned about anyone else. The way he tasted down there, the way he’d try to playfully fight back, and the way he’d surrender knowing she was too much for him. I guess that’s one thing you could fault about this woman, if any at all. She did have a tendency to talk a lot… for a cannibal.

“Here’s the usual” I replied as I gestured to the young man, inviting him to sit next to her.

“He’s all yours ma’am.”