Throbbing music pounded through the dance club, filling her with intense energy. Creating her own form of dancing, she spun and twirled and flitted around the room. Her body was contained within the beat of the music and the dark voice screaming about a living dead girl.
Her date, Robin Wood, sat on a stool at a round red table, occasionally coming over to Faith to dance with her. For a man who'd had to grow up way too soon and still was way too mature, the guy could dance.
Every once in awhile they'd make skin contact and they'd both look at each other, both wanting each other. Together, they heated up the dance floor, mixing with the sweaty, colliding bodies swaying and twisting. Often, they'd lose track of each other throughout the group and would dance with various people until they met up again.
Twenty-three years old and still too beautiful for her own good; Faith attracted the eyes of every guy within a 50 foot vicinity, much like a magnet around metal objects.
Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, a red, lacy tank top held tight to her skin revealing the cleavage of her ample breasts, the black bra containing them peeking out. Black leather pants held tight to her curves as she spun towards the next guy nearest her. He smiled, dancing, and held on for the ride.
One more guy lay between her and Robin, so she danced over, smirking, and wrapped her arms around the guy. Faith hoped Robin would notice and be slightly jealous over her dancing so intimately with another guy. She saw his eyes flicker over to her, saw the flash of a grim look pass through his face.
Faith smiled and turned to meet up with her date, only someone else slipped in from behind, wrapping his arms around her exposed mid-riff, his chest meshing with her back as she slithered in his grasp. A shiver shot down her spine and she turned to face her new competitor.
Long, platinum hair that had recent stains of filth, black netted see-through wife-beater, black pants stitched in red with chains dangling and spiked boots belted on feet were all that made up this man.
Strangely, she was fascinated and held onto him much longer than intended.
What should have been colored irises and black pupils was endlessly black. Much stranger though was the look contained within his features; familiarity rested there alongside longing, maturity, and somehow, loss or regret.
His hands glided up her back, stopping and gently caressing her neck. Faith wanted to tear away, felt violated, but at the same time she wanted this stranger to keep touching her.
Her decision was made for her as Robin strode over and tossed the guy's hands away from Faith. The two glared at each other, Robin hot with anger and male jealousy, the blonde stranger burning with hate and an animal ferocity.
Faith realized within a moment's thought who would come out the victor if the two of them went at it.
As much as Faith appreciated a good rough-and-tumble, she stepped between the two, pushed Robin in the direction of the stage all the while keeping her gaze targeted on the stranger.
She turned to Robin and smiled sinfully at him, licking her lips suggestively and grazing up against him. He smiled, nodded, then began pulling her by the hand towards the exit.