This is really random, and also my first story of 2010. Happy new year everybody!
When the man enters the bar, he makes a bee line for the bartender and manages to shove himself through about four people in order to get the man's attention. He orders a beer- nothing fancy tonight; he just wants to get drunk. The taste doesn't even register with him, but he orders beer after beer until everything around him is fuzzy.
Despite the alcohol, he knows that the girl in front of him is hot. She isn't alcohol hot- she is damn sexy, and he can tell not only by the attractive- albeit fuzzy- features but from the way she holds herself, from the condescending way she surveys the crowd and holds her drink, from the glare she gives the bartender when he tells her she can't smoke in here, and how she puts her cigarette out in another man's drink. He glares at her, but you can tell she's not someone to mess with so he accepts the free beer set in front of him and turns away from the woman.
She continues surveying the crowd in disdain, and he knows that she's better than everyone in here and that she knows it, too- so why is she here, then? She's leagues above them all but she's sitting in this grungy bar regardless.
He must be drunk because he's wobbling over to the empty seat beside her and sitting down. She stares him down and that little sober part inside of him is cowering in fear, but the alcohol is strong and he stands his ground.
The woman sighs when it's clear he isn't going to move and says, "Well, are you going to buy me a drink or not?"
For some reason, he knows, right there, that he's getting laid. Not because he believes he can get her drunk- the many empty glasses around her indicate that she's had quite a few, and the alcohol seems to have no effect on her- but because there's something in her eyes that says she needs a mindless fuck.
He sets the glass in front of her and she downs it in a matter of seconds, looking pointedly at him until he buys her another. This happens three times. Then she says, "Alright, I guess you've proved yourself. What do you want?"
He's sure she knows what he wants and he almost feels as if he could come right out and say it, but he doesn't. Instead he says, "What's your name?"
She shakes her head and takes a swig. "Nope. No names. I don't want names tonight."
That's new, but he'll accept it. Whatever she wants, really.
"Alright, fair enough. So why are you here?"
She studies him. Then she says, "You go first."
He shrugs, then leans back. It doesn't even occur to him to lie.
"I just broke up with my fiancé."
She smirks. "So I'm the rebound girl, then?"
He flounders like a fish out of water. The alcohol isn't giving him a way out. Instead it's laughing at him.
She laughs. "Chill out, kid." The fact that she calls him kid is a bit of a turn off, but she's hot enough that he lets it slide. "At this point I could care less."
He leans in closer and tries to be stealthy about it, but he can tell she notices. She pretends she didn't.
"What happened? Why are you here?"
She looks as if she's debating whether or not to tell the truth. Then she says, "My best friend just died."
He recoils a little bit. "Oh God, I'm… I'm sorry. How did it happen?"
She stares at him and then she laughs. Then she leans in close, as if they're sharing a secret. She smells like booze and the forest.
"Vampires," she whispers. He looks at her in confusion.
"What?"
She leans back. Then she says, "Vampires. Specifically one vampire in particular. But, if you want to get technical, I suppose she's only a half vampire."
He stares at her in confusion and then he laughs. "You're pretty creative," he says, because clearly it's a touchy subject and she doesn't want to tell him the real story. She laughs and then says, "Oh, if you only knew."
He takes a sip of his beer because he thinks he might have been wrong. He's not getting lucky tonight. Her friend just died.
He's proven wrong when she reaches over and puts her hand scarily high on his leg and says, "Relax honey. I know what you're here for. But a girl has to keep her dignity. We had to talk first, or else I'd just be a slut. But now my friend is dead and you're on the rebound and I'm not a slut anymore, not really. You see?"
Uhm, no, he doesn't, but that's okay because she's leading him away and yes, it's happening, he's going to get laid. By one of the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.
"Uhm… I can't really… really drive," he says. He can barely walk straight, and he knows she's drank too but she seems to have no problem walking or speaking and he figures he's safer with her at the wheel.
"Got it darling. Show me the way."
By the time they get back to his empty apartment he is nearly overwhelmed by the smell of his ex. Oh he misses her. He misses her so much.
It's this terrible longing that causes him to shove the girl up against his door and press his mouth to hers in earnest. She kisses him back, and, Jesus, she's a good kisser. Her tongue massages his in such a way that he doesn't make it to the bed. So be it, he'll fuck her on the couch- the bed still smells like her, anyway. He doesn't want to admit it, but he wants to hold onto that smell for as long as he can.
He's fumbling. God, he's fumbling. He can't tell up from down or left from right and he's so drunk that for a moment he forgets where he is but then her hand- oh!
Her hand is everywhere, her mouth is everywhere, he doesn't know what's happening but goddamn, it feels good. He doesn't want it to end, not ever, because with her hand there and her mouth there he can't remember anything and that's oddly freeing.
She's officially taken control and that's probably a good thing because he doesn't think he could do it. He was never good at drunken sex. But she is. She is so much better than good. She's amazing, and again, he knows it isn't just the alcohol haze that makes her good- he can tell from the easy way she mounts him and the way her fingers curl on top of his chest and the way her hips move so elegantly on top of him that she's amazing. And it feels so good.
He wishes he knew her name but he doesn't so instead he settles for generic sounds and he thinks that maybe once he lets his ex's name escape his lips but the woman is nice enough to ignore this and as she moves above him he knows he isn't going to last much longer.
He's about to let go when something stops him cold and he gets into his right mind long enough to gasp out, "condom! We didn't… we didn't use a condom!"
She laughs and he thinks there might be a tone of bitterness in her voice. "Don't worry sweetheart, condoms aren't necessary."
This provides him with so much relief that he lets go inside of her, and he thinks she might have come after him but he isn't sure because he lets his eyes droop closed and he's so tired it isn't funny.
The woman disentangles herself from him and goes into his bathroom. He wonders if there's anything left over from the relationship, anything incriminating she might find.
When she comes out she says, "Listen buddy. You gotta get over her."
The world is spinning and he thinks he might pass out. He shouldn't have drunk so much.
"What do you mean?"
"You have makeup, tampon boxes, and pink razors, but there are no woman's shoes or clothes around the apartment and only one side of your bed looks slept in, which tells me she doesn't live here anymore and she probably hasn't for a while. Which means that either you guys were fighting before the breakup and she moved out or when you said, 'I just broke up with my fiancé,' you actually meant, 'we broke up months ago.' Either way you just fucked a random girl from the bar and I don't think she's coming back anytime soon."
This makes him really angry. He doesn't even know this bitch's name, and here she is acting as if she knows everything that went on in his life. As if she has any right to rifle through his life. He sits up, glaring at her.
"Who the fuck are you?" He spits angrily at her. She doesn't even look taken aback, as if she's used to people yelling at her.
"No names, I told you."
"Alright, you've figured out my life, what about you? You can't even bother to tell me the truth about what happened to you!"
"I did tell you the truth," she says calmly. He snorts.
"Right, the vampires."
"Half-vampire."
"Right. Look honey, I don't know who the hell you are but I think you owe me the truth, at least."
She laughs. "Oh, I don't actually owe you anything. I did you a favour, actually."
"How the hell do you figure that?"
"You've been sitting around and moping for God knows how long. You keep telling people you just broke up with your girlfriend when it's really been months. You're keeping the apartment exactly how she left it because you want to preserve her or some shit, which is pretty creepy. So now that I've come in here and fucked everything up, either you're going to get off your ass and start living again or you're gonna go grovel at her feet, so either you're back in a shitty relationship or you're starting a shitty relationship, but either way you're moving."
"You're something else, you know that?"
"Look, I know what it's like to be stuck in place after someone's broken your heart, but you're gonna be goddamn miserable if you continue to dwell on it, and eventually everyone is going to hate you."
The anger has left him and now he's just sitting there in disbelief, staring at this odd stranger who is giving him life advice.
"And how would you know?"
She laughs and then lights a cigarette. "Been there, done that."
"I'm sure not everybody hates you. I'm sure your best friend liked you."
She shrugs. "Yeah, I guess he does."
He's confused at the present tense. "I thought… I thought you said your best friend was dead?"
She looks at him, and he's pretty sure she's looking into his soul. "He is."
The mood is suddenly very eerie. They stare at each other for a few more moments and then she looks away.
"Well this has been fun. It's been a joy, really it has."
She stubs her cigarette out on his stove and then makes her way to the door. He gets up, not even caring that he is still naked.
"Wait." For some reason, he needs some tangible proof of her, more than her cigarette or her scent or the fact that he should probably scrub down his couch. He wants more. "Please, just… tell me your name."
She looks at him and then she smiles and he knows that if only she smiled more, nobody would ever be able to hate her. "Leah."
Then she walks out his door and out of his life.