I can still remember the first night we met. He came over to me while I was sipping a small glass of water, I never drank before he came along. He was so confident in himself, his walk alone suggested he was older than he looked and that he had lived through more than anyone could possibly imagine. He asked if the chair ajacent myself was open. I eyed him a moment, wary of his possible intentions. He wasn't typically the type of man I would normally choose of a night of entertainment. More often than not I pick up the kind of ruffians you see in clubs, grinding their groins against anything and everything with breasts. But this man seemed interesting so I shook my head and he sat down. He held out his hand, a hand with a long pale scar across the base, and offered his name, Merrick. I took it and returned my own, Kikira.

"What a beautiful name. Unusual for someone of your Medditerenean decent."

I found it strange he knew where my family had come from, more people think that I come from Latin America than anywhere else. I smiled faintly, more than I had in quite a while, and nodded.

"Merrick isn't much more usual," I replied, setting my drink down and leaning back as I looked him over fully.

His hair was brushed back away from his eyes, hair that was jet black with a slight curl, worn in the fashion you might see in some vampire movie in town. His face was strong, scarred on one side, and a perfect match to his dark eyes. Those eyes, the kind that would hold a thousand women still for eternity if so desired, so dark in the light yet seemed to glow slightly in the dim surroundings of the bar. The black silk shirt he was wearing seemed to fit him more than anything as it flowed over his body, showing the contours of muscle, most definately hard worked for. He made me feel so plain, so common.

Me, with my blood red satin corset and knee length skirt. Me with my dark complexion and powerful dark eyes that seemed to look through any facade. The woman that could catch any man she wanted for any reason she felt. This man certainly was something if he could make me feel as common as he did.

We talked of trivial things all night. I don't know what we mentioned, i was so distracted by him. He held my eyes for the hours we sat there as people passed by well into the night. The music pulsing a steady, low beat into my body, as if it were a second heartbeat. Everything but him seemed to be forgotten, as if I were falling in love with him. That was absurd though, I had only met this man a few hours ago, how could I love him? But it didn't feel like a few hours, it felt like days, months, years.

It must have been 3 am by the time the barkeeper came over to say he was closing up and that we had to leave. It was only then that Merrick looked away from me. As he did I felt as if I had missed the last step going down the stairs from my apartment, the kind of feeling when your stomach drops to your feet in a single heartbeat. I rubbed my eyes and moved to pick up my glass of water, probably now warm and tasting of cigarette smoke. But the glass wasn't there anymore. The barkeeper must have taken it while we were talking, noticing that I hadn't touched it in a few hours and figuring that something must be wrong with it. I turned to ask for another, but he wasn't there, no one was.

I blinked and looked around at the empty bar and the cobwebs stretching between chairs and tables, drifting softly from a slight breeze coming from somewhere. The dust that lay over the floor and table in front of me was unbroken except in one spot, a spot shaped perfectly like a hand, the same place Merrick's had been only seconds before. All the chairs were stacked neatly on top of their tables except ours. The windows not boarded up were either broken in, most likely by teenagers looking for a private hangout, or painted over in crude grafftiti. The dance floor was strewn with old beer cans and what looked like used condoms left behind after a quick romp by the street urchins and hookers.

I stood and headed for the door, not even bothering to pick up my purse. I was so thirsty it was unbearable, I had to find something, anything.

One Night

Kikira LoPresto