She was leaning against the bar, looking bored, fluted glass loose in hand. She sighed and knocked back another sip before pulling out her cell phone.
"Where are u?" was the last text she'd sent - fifteen minutes ago. No answer.
He never answered.
She was beyond pissed. She wanted to haul off and smash the cell phone against the marble counter. Let him pay for that, too. He loved to buy her stuff, after all - like the black tube top she was wearing and the crystal key chain on her purse. But there was always something ELSE that he had to do...
"Why aren't you ever here?" she whispered, staring at the bubbles in the glass. "Don't you love me?"
She grit her teeth and was about to show her fury when she realized she was still in the club. She looked up, hoping no one had noticed her mini fit.
There was someone watching her from across the dance floor.
Puzzled, Rue squinted and leaned forward. They were standing just out of reach of the strobe lights, but then the crowd shifted and a hint of pink fell upon the figure.
It was a man with dark hair and intriguing eyes. He was tall and lean, with a black t-shirt pulled taut across his muscular chest.
Rue's eyes widened, and she pulled away from the counter. "Do I know...?"
But then he was gone, melting back into the crowd. Huffing in disappointment, Rue fell back against the bar. She crossed her arms and turned away, trying to rid her mind of the image.
But it was still there, and she was still lonely.
On impulse, she stepped up and started off across the dance floor. "I've nothing else to do," she told herself, but the churning in her stomach told her otherwise.
The people in the crowd kept bumping up against her and moving around, making it hard for her to get through. A moment of unjustified anxiety ran through her body - what if she couldn't find...?
Then a hand was on her forearm, and she was being pulled out of the mob. Breathless, Rue touched her forearm and looked up in confusion at her guide.
"Hard to breath, isn't it?"
It was the dark man she'd been seeking.
Rue's eyes widened again for a moment, but then she smirked. "I don't believe we've met, Mr...?"
"Not Mr." He shifted into a rather tense position, arms folded, and looked away. "Too formal. Too polite. This isn't the neighborhood barbecue."
"You seem awfully uptight," Rue mused. "This is a club - aren't you going to have fun?"
"Maybe." He looked back at her. "I have to find someone to celebrate with, first."
Celebrate? Rue rose an eyebrow. He was nearly as awkward and aloof as she was - except he had a sort of comfortable gruffness that she lacked. And he had just made an offer of sorts...
She stared at his chest, contemplating the way it stretched across his skin, and bit her lip.
Then the cell phone in her purse, still slung on her shoulder, began to vibrate. Rue grinned darkly then, her mind made up. She drew out the silver and black device, the pulsing lights dancing off the metal, and held it out. Then she let go.
It shattered smartly on the hard floor.
She shrugged off her purse, and let it drop to the ground as well.
He watched her actions with unreadable eyes.
Rue smiled wider and held out her hand. "You still haven't told me your name...?"
He took her hand without a moment's hesitation and drew her closer. "You haven't told me yours either."
Rue laughed at this, at the carefree banter - no more pampering, no more cold politeness. Just sizzling frankness. "Fair play," she told him.
They began to sway to the beat, their bodies nearly touching, cheek to cheek. Rue's heart was pounding loudly. "Pseudonyms, then, at least?" she whispered in his ear.
He breathed lightly, perhaps chuckling, and replied lowly, "...Fakir."
"Kraehe," she replied.
And they continued to dance without a word.