Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Rinoa sat, drumming her fingers against the table top, clearly agitated.
The source of her agitation was her so-called 'keeper,' who was currently ignoring her.
She took another swing of her drink, and glanced over at him, sitting across from her. He was arm wrestling someone, partly obscured by a crowd of half-drunk over-eager men, all wanting to partake in the action.
Simultaneously they starting whooping, as - yet again, - Seifer won.
Rinoa rolled her eyes, and surveyed her surrounding sourly. The small bar had cheep beer on tap, and smelled of even cheaper perfume.
Naturally, he brought her along. She was, after all, his latest status symbol, his favourite possession at that time to show off. It contained mostly men, the only females present being the sort Rinoa didn't like to affiliate herself with.
She sighed, and turned back to Seifer. He didn't like it when she didn't pay close attention to him.
The drunks cheered again, as Seifer was - once again - the victor.
He glanced over at her, and jerked his head, with a dangerous look in his eyes. Rinoa hated that look. It always meant trouble for her. She suppressed a sigh, and got up, ignoring the lustful looks her tiny shorts were getting.
Seifer smirk brightened as she drew closer. The licked his lips, then patted his lap.
Gritting her teeth, Rinoa perched herself on his knee. Seifer slung an arm casually over her shoulder.
"Okay! Lets make this more interesting!" he yelled.
"If anyone manages to beat me, my girlfriend will give them a lap dance! How's that!?" cheers went up, and Rinoa felt herself shaking with the force it took to suppress her rage.
"What!? You can't-" she started, trying not to yell, but Seifer cut her off,
"Relax babe, I won't lose." he said, eyes flashing dangerously. Rinoa yearned to scram and shout and kick and punch, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. When Seifer had that gleam in his eyes there was no reasoning with him.
'Howdare he?!' she thought vehemently. It was bad enough that she had to basically follow him everywhere, put up with his whims, address him politely, now he was using her as leverage?
"Do I have any challengers!?" he yelled.
The drunks murmured amongst themselves.
"C'mon! Isn't anyone willing to give me some good competition?" he yelled again.
A chair scrapped as someone sat down heavily.
"I will." said a deep voice. Seifer smirked at the new arrival to the table.
Rinoa's first impression of the man was a quantity of longish brown hair falling into his eyes, and a black leather jacket, then she was unceremoniously shoved off Seifer's lap as he readied himself.
He raised his right arm.
"On three." he said. The other man followed suit, and raised his arm.
"One ... two," they clasped hands across the table, " ...Three!" and it started. Disgusted, Rinoa distanced herself as much as was possible, and took a seat at the bar closer to the door.
'I think I prefer the desert prison to this.' she thought to herself, but deep down she didn't mean it. Humiliation at the hands of someone who enjoys making your life a living hell was still preferable to death. Only just.
A strange murmur ran through the crowd as they watched Seifer's spectacle. Rinoa glanced over, curiosity aroused. Usually Seifer's matches didn't last this long. She caught a glimpse of him as the crowd moved.
His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a look of concentration. Sweat beaded his brow, as his arm was moving towards the table, inch by inch. The gleam in his usually ice blue eyes had transformed into a strange … almost red glow.
'Can't be good …' thought Rinoa.
She scrutinized his opponent carefully.
He flicked his hair out of his eyes calmly, face emotionless. A moment later it was all over, as Seifer's hand slammed into the table. The mysterious stranger was the victor. Seifer was livid.
Rinoa smiled.
"I wouldn't have lost if I hadn't wasted all my energy cleaning up all you low-lives!" yelled Seifer between pants.
"You wouldn't have lost if you'd won." replied the stranger quietly.
"Looks like his girlfriend owes you a lap dance!" said another man, laughing heartily. All the other men joined in, laughing crudely. They started up a chant -
"Lap-dance! Lap-dance!" In a second Rinoa found herself surrounded by the crowd, being jostled forward towards Seifer and the stranger.
"Over my dead body!" yelled Seifer, standing and slamming his fists into the table, giving everyone a look of pure fury.
The man got up and glanced in Rinoa direction. She could see his eyes now, they were a deep, dark blue. He looked a lot younger than she had initially thought he'd be, probably about her own age, give or take a few years. He stared at her intensely for a moment, seemingly interested in … her neck?
Her hand when to her throat instinctively. Just a black leather choker, or as Seifer liked to call it, 'My insurance.'
Rinoa sized up the stranger thoughtfully. Giving him a lap-dance would piss Seifer off more than anything, and judging by the look of the boy, it wouldn't necessarily be a painful ordeal on her part.
The young man stood and glanced carelessly back at Seifer.
"Whatever." he said getting up and moving towards the door, leaving Seifer looking a little stupefied, it appeared he'd imagined that there'd be more of a fight.
Rinoa followed him, mind made up. She was feeling a bit frisky, and Seifer needed to be taught a lesson.
"Wait," she said, grabbing the young man's arm as he walked past, stepping well within his personal space. The bar was silent, waiting with baited breath for what she would say. He turned to looked down at her, face blank.
"You won fair and square," said Rinoa, smirking slightly. She ran a finger from his nape, down to his chest, then looked up at him through her lashes, smiling seductively. She snuck a peek at Seifer from the corner of her eye. He was beyond furious. Perfect.
His eyes followed her finger's progress, looking slightly bewildered. Rinoa smirked, and grabbed a handful of his shirt.
She pulled him even closer, and whispered into his ear,
"Get ready for your lap-dance sweetheart."
She shoved him hard, into a nearby chair, then walked towards the jukebox to pick a suitable song. Maybe this would teach Seifer that she was not to be taken lightly.
'Man ... I've changed.' thought Rinoa, slightly sadly. The past few weeks had been a nightmare. She got over her initial shock and indignation eventually, and now she just did what was necessary to survive. She'd become more sarcastic, less trusting, a lot tougher, and a lot less naive.
She caught sight of Seifer, downing something particularly strong. With luck, he'd get alcohol poisoning. With more luck, perhaps he'd die from it, or at least become paralysed.
Smirking, she pressed play.
As the first chords of the song rang out, Rinoa focused on her prey, and made her way over slowly.
He eyed her wearily, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs.
She positioned herself, backed turned on him, then she started to dance.
'Down in Mexicali,
There's a crazy little place that I know.
Where the drinks are hotter than the chilli sauce, and the boss has a cat named Joe.' Rinoa stole a glance at her victim over her shoulder.
He was no longer slouching, and no longer eyeing her warily. She almost laughed, he looked downright petrified, leaning back in his seat as far as he could.
'He wears a red bandana, plays a blues piano,
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico,
He wears purple sash, and a black moustache,
In a honky-tonk down in Mexico.'
Rinoa turned to him, and sashayed around his chair, running a hand along his shoulders, and through his hair. She twirled around and sat in his lap, her back to his chest. She took both his hands, wrapping his arms round herself.
His breath felt warm on her neck, the leather of his jacket cool and soothing against her skin. She started to move slowly, swaying in time to the music.
'Well the first time that I saw him,
He was sittin' on a piano stool,
I said "Tell me dad, when does the fun begin?"
He just winked his eyes and said "Man, be cool"'
She reached backwards, and ran her hands through his hair. Arching her back, she pressed herself against him. She snuck a glance at his face, it was … emotionless?
'He wears a red bandana, plays a blues piano,
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico,
He wears purple sash, and a black moustache,
In a honky-tonk down in Mexico.'
The pace of the song started to pick up. Rinoa unwrapped his arms from around her and stood facing him. She smirked, noticing that his hands were clutching the arm rests of the chair a bit too tightly.
Once again she climbed onto his lap, straddling him this time. She put a hand on either side of his face, and looked over his head at Seifer.
Seifer was glaring daggers in the stranger's back. He stopped long enough to give Rinoa a taste of it. She responded with a cheery smile.
She looked down the young man beneath her. His eyes were fixed on her face, almost quizzical.
She winked, and started moving in time to the faster tempo.
'All of a sudden there was this chick.
Joe started playing on a Latin kick.
Around her waist she wore three fishnets.
She started dancin' with the castanets.
I didn't know just what to expect.
She threw her arms around my neck.
We started dancin' all around the floor.
And then she did this dance I never saw before.'
Rinoa slowed down to a halt, and once again removed herself from his lap. She stepped up onto his chair with one leg, then took both of the young man's hands in hers.
He looked down where she had stepped, between his legs, across to where she had his hands in a tight grip, then back up at her face.
Rinoa started at her neck, then ran their hands downwards.
'So if your south of the boarder,
I mean down in Mexico,
And you wanna get straight,
Man, don't hesitate,
Just look up a cat named Joe.'
Rinoa was surprised when suddenly the young man took hold of her wrists, and pulled her close. Mostly because of his passiveness through the whole thing up until that point, not the act itself.
'He wears a red bandana, plays a blues piano,
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico,
He wears purple sash, and a black moustache,
In a honky-tonk down in Mexico.'
He leaned in, till his face was level with hers, then even closer till he was right by her ear.
'If you want to live, leave your window open tonight.' he whispered. Rinoa gasped,
'Act natural.' he added, releasing her. Rinoa stood, as the final chords of the song rang out.
The young man stood too, giving her the tiniest of nods, before walking out of the bar, and into the night.
There we go I fixed it. I have a story planned out from this. To continue or to not continue. That is the question. Input is appreciated. :)
Note story starts after the exclaimer if theres a random sentence first, I have no idea why.