Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, and am making no money off of this fic.
AN: Written for the January 11th Cocktail Party prompt found here: gwcocktailfriday . tumblr .com(/)post/181740312975/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-january. (Without the spaces and parentheses.)
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What We (Don't) Learn by luvsanime02
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"Aren't you going to have anything?" someone asks.
Meilan resists the urge to curse out loud. She'd known that sitting at a bar alone is practically an invitation, but really? She's sitting here with a bottle of water in her hands, and she's looking at her phone. What about her body language says that she's interested in being chatted up?
Meilan would have worn headphones if she'd thought that it would help at all. Unfortunately, previous experience has taught her that, no, it really doesn't.
She doesn't turn around, merely glances at the man standing next to her. He's tall, with ash-blond hair and a smirk on his face, and Meilan just knows that he's one of those guys that's never gotten used to the word no.
Well, he's sure as hell going to get used to it right now.
"That's none of your business," she says bluntly, turning her attention back to her phone.
"Wow," he says, laughing for some reason that Meilan can't understand and never wants to, "hostile much? Come on, let me buy you a drink."
Seriously? Why do some men think that a woman being annoyed with them is funny? Meilan isn't looking for a partner at all, but if she was, she wouldn't be looking for someone who annoys her, and frankly, she pities anyone who does.
"Not interested," she says, keeping her tone carefully bored.
A hand reaches out and attempts to take her phone, and Meilan grabs the man's wrist before she can rethink the action. She doesn't want to just let him go, so she turns and glares instead.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asks, making an effort to keep her tone calm.
She's stopping his arm from moving with little effort, but he still seems amused, not worried, and she hates him. She doesn't even know his name, but she hates him, and everyone like him.
"I just wanted you to pay attention to me, instead of texting your boyfriend," he says. Meilan assumes that he's trying to be charming, but he only sounds smarmy to her. She also doesn't bother to correct him. She wasn't texting anyone, let alone a boyfriend, but Meilan knows this game. She understands this manipulation. If she protests, explains, not only is she inviting him into a conversation, in this man's opinion, but she'll also be letting him know that she doesn't have a boyfriend.
It's a trap, and it's definitely on purpose.
"I don't have to pay attention to you," Meilan retorts, her voice now cold. If he knew her, he'd know that making her this angry is never a good idea. Unfortunately, he doesn't know her, and doesn't quit smiling. What the hell is wrong with someone like him? "Don't try to take my stuff."
Reluctantly, she lets go of his wrist, though she also pushes his arm away in the same moment, so that he's not as close to touching her anymore. She turns back around, away from him, and waits. She knows this isn't over, as much as she'd like it to be. Men like this guy never take no for an answer.
Just as she thought, the bar stool next to her is pulled out, and the guy sits down. "Two gin and tonics," he calls out, tapping on the bar, and Meilan resists the urge to roll her eyes or react at all. He can try to guilt trip her all he wants. It won't work. He could try to pour that drink down her throat, and she still wouldn't take it.
"You know," he says after a few seconds, "you should smile more. I bet a pretty girl like you has a terrific smile."
Meilan doesn't respond. She'd really like to. She'd like to tell him that she's a woman, not a girl, and that she doesn't smile on command, but she knows that this is a trap, too. If she responds, she's playing into his hands. It's all a manipulation.
"Hey, isn't this funny?" he says suddenly, and then his phone is being shoved in front of Meilan's face. The picture is of a sign, with the words 'I have mixed drinks about feelings' printed on it in big letters.
His hand doesn't move. He's trying to force her to reply. Meilan can either respond to him two ways now, in his opinion. She can say something about the picture, which will trap her into a conversation with him, or she can push his hand away, which will mean that he can make some remark about her liking to touch him and use that as an excuse to touch her.
"Get your phone out of my face," she demands, not choosing either option. She's not playing here, and she can't believe that men like him don't ever seem to take a hint.
He does remove his phone, thankfully, but then leans closer to her after. "Come on," he coaxes, "talk to me for a bit. I want to get to know you better."
As if. Meilan wants to lean away, but she doesn't want him to follow her movements and get in her space even more. She doesn't respond. The drinks arrive, and just like she thought, the man next to her picks up one of the drinks and holds it out in front of her.
Meilan ignores the drink. He's not shoving a phone in her face or touching her, so Meilan can ignore him again.
"Hey," he says, and he sounds annoyed for the first time tonight. Finally. "Hey, I bought this for you."
Meilan turns completely away from him on the stool. She wants to leave, but she definitely doesn't want this man following her.
A hand clamps down on her shoulder and turns her around forcefully, and okay, now Meilan is pissed off. She kicks out at his bar stool, and watches in satisfaction as it flies out from underneath him and lands the man on his ass. Some people in the bar laugh, obviously noticing him fall, but Meilan only stares at him angrily.
"Nicely done," someone says to her right, and Meilan pauses before she verbally lashes out. She knows that voice.
"Wufei?" she asks in surprise, and yes, there's her cousin, standing beside her with his arms crossed and looking down at the man on the floor in disdain.
"Hello," he replies, his tone friendly and obviously directed at her, though his gaze doesn't move from the man slowly climbing to his feet. He doesn't look so cool and collected now, though. His fists are clenched, and his face is turning red.
"What are you doing here?" she asks Wufei. 'Here' meaning in the city. Last Meilan heard, Wufei wasn't even in the country.
"My father wanted me to come home," he says.
Meilan wants to ask more, worried that something might be wrong and she hasn't been told, but the man who was bothering Meilan chooses that moment to speak.
"So, you're the boyfriend," he says, sneering at Wufei. He looks Wufei up and down, and then steps deliberately into Wufei's personal space, and what the hell. Does he think that Wufei is going to be intimidated just because that man's taller than him, or something? That's almost laughable.
Wufei's eyes narrow. "That's right," he lies. And then he turns away from the man, obviously intent on ignoring him just like Meilan was doing. "Can we go somewhere else?" he asks.
Meilan nods and stands up, and then the both of them walk away in step with each other. "Hey!" the man yells out behind them. "You owe me money for that drink!"
Of all the damn nerve. Wufei puts a cautioning hand on her arm, obviously noticing how Meilan is tensing up to turn around and punch the man. She huffs, but forces herself to relax, knowing that Wufei is right and violence will only escalate things. Then Meilan hears footsteps approaching from behind them, and if everyone else in the bar wasn't paying attention before, she's sure that they are now, and this is humiliating.
"I don't owe you a damn thing," Meilan spits out, furious. "Go to hell."
Wufei smirks, and when the man reaches for Wufei's coat like he's going to grab it and physically pull Wufei away from her, Wufei follows Meilan's lead and sweeps the guy's feet out from underneath him, letting him fall to the floor in a heap.
More laughter from the spectators, and then Wufei is calmly gesturing towards the door. "Shall we?" he asks.
Meilan feels a reluctant smile tug at her lips. "Let's get the hell out of here," she agrees, and then the two of them leave the bar together.
