„I'm doing some extraordinary things today."
The upper level of the Dark Star nightclub was less crowded than usual. The music and the lights were more moderate as well.
John didn't really care about either.
He was sitting in one of the quieter corners, on a small, violet-colored sofa. His cigarette was already half-burnt, but his glass was full. The third round of a mysterious green liquor. He planned to have at least two more.
"So, you come here often?" asked the asari who was sitting next to him.
John lifted his cigarette to his mouth before answering.
"No."
Why is it always an asari?
He was starting to suspect that there was some kind of asari conspiracy that involved messing around with him specifically.
"Then, this must be a special occasion, right?" she asked, smiling at him.
"Yeah. It is indeed." He grinned and drank a mouthful of liquor.
"Celebrating something?"
More like mourning.
"You could say that."
"Good," the asari winked at him. "What's that you're drinking by the way?"
"This?" he asked and lifted the glass up. "No idea. It tastes like shit, but at least it's working."
He looked straight into the asari's face. Her expression kind of signaled that she was starting to understand the situation.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked, then pointed at the stairs with his head.
The asari pursed her lips, then she slowly stood up.
"Stupid arrogant humans," she muttered as she left.
Finally.
He sighed, leaned back and drank again. He nearly spat the whole thing out the next second.
This can't be.
Jane was standing next to the stairs.
She's going to see you.
By the time he could have jumped under the table or something, she was already staring at him.
He stared back. He wasn't concerned about the situation, he just didn't want to see her at that moment.
Or do you…?
He wondered if Jane came to the club for the same reason as he had.
No, she's not that type.
The momentarily shock on her face was kind of telling.
You know exactly why she came here.
He realized that he still had the cigarette in his hand, so he smoked it, then looked at the wall.
How did she know where to come?
He leaned on the table and sipped his drink again.
Because this is the only club you would come to by yourself, and she knows that.
Jane started walking towards him. A turian, whose arm she scoured, turned after her.
"Heyyy sweetheart."
She didn't even realize that someone spoke to her.
It took only a few seconds to reach John's table, but it felt much longer. All the thoughts that had troubled her five minutes ago simply vanished. Her mind was a blank paper, except for four words:
What do I do.
John was observing the table.
"Hello," he casually said.
Jane didn't know what to say or do, so she just slowly leaned against the table, keeping a little bit of a distance from John.
This was a mistake.
She could feel her heart jumping into her throat. It was strange for her to look at John. She was unable to ignore fresh memories that came to her mind.
If at least there weren't any other people around.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. John didn't seem to pay attention to her struggle.
Good. It would be no better if he was.
She took a deep breath and looked at the smouldering cigarette.
"You don't normally smoke," she said in a slightly shaking voice.
Long silence.
"Yeah," he nodded finally. "I'm doing some extraordinary things today."
Jane stared at him unbelievingly.
Is this a joke?
John seemed to be so calm and carefree. That would have been normal, if…
If.
"Are you drunk?"
"Your observing capabilities are excellent," John scoffed. "I might be."
Jane's fist clenched as she turned her head away.
This is pointless.
She wasn't used to this kind of behaviour from John.
She glanced at him again, but what she saw scared her.
He was observing her with a steady stare, as if he was waiting for something to happen. A cold shiver climbed up her spine.
"What did you want to say?" John asked. His tone was just a tiny bit scornful.
Jane would have gotten angry if she wasn't already scared instead.
"I… I… I just came here…," she stammered, "to tell you that…"
WHAT.
"…That you shouldn't… do anything reckless-"
John slammed his nearly empty glass on the table. The sudden movement gave Jane a start and she gasped quietly.
"You always figure out everything, huh?" he asked calmly and leaned closer to Jane. "Listen then; I will be reckless whenever the fuck I want. You don't have to be concerned about it."
Jane pressed her lips into a thin line. She closed her eyes, trying not to start some kind of ridiculously hysterical scene. She really wanted to bring John's attention to the fact that alcohol makes him an insensitive jerk.
When she opened her eyes after long seconds of silence, she just wanted to get out.
"Just… " She was trying desperately to control the quaver in her voice. "I just want to see you tomorrow in one piece… okay?"
John didn't react anything, but Jane caught a glimpse of his straining facial muscles.
"I'll just… leave you alone now, if you wish… "
Damn.
John felt miserable. In fact, he was on the rack every second because of Jane's presence. He just wanted to sit alone and drink as long as he beared the ability of lifting a glass to his mouth. But at the same time, the mazochist in him – combined with alcohol - liked Jane's presence. He didn't want to let her walk away.
Why did she have to come here?
"Don't go anywhere," he said.
Jane had already straightened up, ready to walk away, but she froze. Her subconscious immediately started screaming at her.
You should GO HOME.
She stood there, looking at John, waiting for whatever he had to say.
GO HOME.
John glanced around to check if anyone was looking at them. Luckily, no one was paying attention to the dark corner he had chosen specifically because of its isolation.
He turned back to Jane, put his cigarette and drink down, while calmly staring at her.
Then he grabbed her right hand firmly and pulled her to himself.
Jane gasped. She lost her balance and was forced to catch John's shoulder. She couldn't right herself up thereafter, because John grabbed her hips with both hands and pulled her onto himself.
There she was, sitting in John's lap, her knees buried into the mushy violet seat, her hands still resting on his shoulders. With her face only a few inches away from his face, she could smell the combined scent of alcohol and tobacco on him.
She never ever imagined she'd have to deal with him like this.
Anything but this.
Yet, as she was sitting there, tied to him, something paralized her.
John sighed. He slowly moved his right hand from her hip, ran his fingers up her bust and placed his index finger on her rosy lips.
"Why the trembling?" he asked quietly.
She didn't even realize she was trembling.
Is it just that? Longing for physical contact with him?
"Do you like this?" he continued. "You're still here."
Her breathing became slightly erratic. She wasn't afraid anymore.
You like what he's doing.
"So, you don't regret anything, do you?" he asked, though it rather sounded as a statement. He slowly moved his hand, placing his whole palm on the side of her jaw, slightly pressing his thumb against her lips.
Jane flushed. She felt a sweet, tingling contraction deep in her belly.
You need him.
She felt shame. Shame for taking part in – or what's more, enjoying - the situation.
John slightly tilted his head to the right and observed her face for a few seconds.
Then, he leaned even closer to her, leaving little space between their faces.
"You're a wicked little woman, are you not?" he asked, a faint smirk replacing his calm pokerface.
The thumb on her lips pressed stronger.
"So you just march into this place and come to me," John continued, stressing every single word, "not caring at all that I might regret what… I did."
What HE did?
"Or you… think, that… I'd want… this… you… "
John ran out of words and closed his mouth. His face suddenly changed. The smirk on it disappeared as he clenched his teeth. His eyes…
Is that pain? Or lust?
Both?
Jane stopped breathing as she gazed into John's eyes. His thumb slowly joined his other fingers on the side of her jaw, leaving nothing between their lips but a thin layer of air.
You… want…
She felt his other hand on the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hair, giving her goosebumps.
Closer…
Neither of them moved.
Do you really want to… ?
His hand quivered once, as if he wanted to do something with it, but changed his mind in the end.
Air…
Who needs air…
Her lips touched his lips.
She realized that she just couldn't do it. Every muscle in her body wanted to, but she couldn't.
Not like this. Not here.
The sweet tingling in her belly slowly stopped. She felt the need to breath again.
John's mind was empty. What emptied it; he did not know. It might have been the alcohol, or fatigue, or both… The only thing he concentrated on was Jane in his arms.
And the lust that was taking his mind over.
Madness…
The guilt kept him from deciding what to do. Instead, he just stared at her, waiting for something to happen.
Anything.
Something finally happened. Jane's lips quivered and a single tear left each of her eyes.
No.
No no no.
He let go of Jane and leaned back. Jane finally breathed and let go of John's shoulders. She put her right hand over her mouth, trying to hold her other tears back.
"Go," John said. "Just… please."
She slowly stood up without uttering a single word, then turned around and walked away.
John sat on the violet colored sofa for long minutes. When he got tired of staring at his almost empty glass, he stood up, paid, then left the club.
The sound of glass pieces being tossed around greeted him when he stepped into the apartment. He slowly walked towards the stairs, so when he reached the kitchen, he saw Jane. She was kneeling on the kitchen floor, collecting the pieces of something she had probably broken not long ago.
The casualties of today's events.
She didn't stop or look up when he walked through towards the stairs.
Probably to hide her red, cried-out eyes.
He couldn't bear the sight of her for long, so he turned away and proceeded upstairs.
He entered his room, closed the door and looked at his window. The shutters were still apart, letting in the lights of the street.
He dragged himself to the wall console and hit the button he needed. The shutters closed, and once again, he was embraced by the comforting darkness of his room.
Now that's much better.
He pushed his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes. It was nice and cold again.
Jane pinned against the window. His lips reaching hers. The sweet scent of cherry pours into his nose. It's overwhelming. For a moment, he wonders if he should stop. It might be a terrible mistake to continue.
She returns the kiss. The doubt simply vanishes from his mind.
He wanted the memories to go away, disappear and never bother him again.
He felt as if he was stuck in a blind alley.
For the first time in years, tears were flowing down his face.