Title: I'm The 'Bad Girl,' The 'Loose One,' The 'Whore.' (11/?)

Series: Met Nater

3rd person POV

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In this dark smoky club, the beat is vibrating through me, and I feel the surge of all these young bodies grinding together, like fire ravaging away. Then, alone, but surrounded, I feel her. Dancing in her own little world, not caring about those who courts her, trying to get closer, trying to touch.

Swaying to the beat, eyes closed, her breathing ragged. She always loved this, a couple of drinks, just to get a buzz, the loud music and the others around her. It's as if something is missing. She's doing it to fill a need, to do something, to try to feel alive for once. To rid herself of thoughts that wont go away, of the voices that never stop throwing guilt at you.

Throwing all morals she might have had, tonight's her night, no-one infront, no-one's an equal, just her, in the mass, a prime of her species, a lonely hunter, selecting her prey.

She moves slowly around, knowing that if there's a right one, it'll come forward, and she'll let it. She seems unaware of the existence of everyone around her, but in her pretty little head all those senses are making her brain work in high gear to narrow down the selection.

Somewhat irritated, but not allowing it to show, she comes to the bar and stands mere inches apart from me, though she doesn't really know, she orders something strong, hoping the slayer metabolsim will let this one work just a little longer than the others.

Slamming it back, she doesn't even notice the burning in her throat, it'll be gone in a second anyways. Turning around, she gives the crowd an appreciating glance, licks her lips and moves back into them.

Which one did'ya pick sweets? The brown haired girl, or the blue eyed guy who gave you those longing looks just a minute ago. Neither? No? What a shame, they're both so pretty, but I guess none worthy you. No, you should have something with class babe, even if you don't know it. Something like that blonde that's somewhat out of reach these days. You'll try to replace her, but not quite sure you can.

Getting into the last fase, she's locked eyes on a girl, prettier than the others, just arrived, and moves subtly closer. I turn my attention for a moment, looking at the Seer, the cop and the two withces, aware of what she's doing, but they know they can't stop it. Not in this world, not in this time.

I turn back to the slayer, sipping the last of my scotch, shrugging on my coat, leaving a generous tip for the bartender. She's dancing with the pretty blonde haired girl, who's currently snaking herself around her, touching uncovered flesh, following the animal rhythm my girl has set. Oh no, she doesn't want to impress, because she doesn't need to. The grinding of her hips is enough, and maybe, for tonight, she'll find someone who'll treat her gently, because Faith doesn't want a frantic fuck tonight; just a break from the cool she's gotten so used to.

Oh yes slayer, have fun tonight, find your reasons, fight your fight. I'll be back before you know it, I'll find your fate, trust my word, hurry now, still not too late. They're moving towards the exit, Faith's hand on girl's lower back, moving her swiftly along, don't get no ideas of whom she belongs to.

I pass a few steps infront of them, just making sure I can hear what they're saying, not that I need to, but there's not much else to do.

"What's your name?" Faithy asks, not much of interest, but she's heard it's polite.

"Jenna. Who are you?" She asks, that sweet little voice tickling all the right places.
And I swear the girl chuckles softly and thinks it exotic and new as Faith smirks devilishly as she whispers her answer seductively in her ear;

"I'm the bad girl, the loose one, the whore."

TBC?