𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨 | 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟒 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚

𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

________________

| 3 4 |

A few days later
N.Y.C
5:11pm

"I don't care Michael." Rose mumbled, grabbing her backpack from the couch and walking toward the door in the process of clicking her tongue. "What do you mean you don't care Rose?" He followed, "Why does he get to go out and do as he please with other girls? I enjoyed dancing— plus we haven't seen him in days..I'm just going to have a conversation with pavlikovsky." Yes, she was planning on going back to her old job. "Rose, you aren't even thinking with a straight head— You always forget who I am, those women in that club are dancing out of need— you don't have any with me here." He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed a strand of hair away from his face. "I could give you everything and anything this world has to offer, go to your room and go get ready." He grabbed her backpack from her hands and placed it down while gesturing for the girl to go and get ready. "If you enjoy dancing so much, let's go to a club."

Rose stood there for a few seconds before processing what was being told to her. Dancing with Michael, they had done it before—but things felt different now. They had kissed. Nearly had sex. The tension was just going to continue to grow between the pair. Hopefully they could both restrict themselves from the feeling of wanting to go at each other in that sexual manner. She already felt awkward every time Michael glanced at her as she changed. "Get ready and we'll hit up some stores for our outfits." Nodding, she walked into her room and he followed. Doing her hair would be quick, she went with some loose curls. Playing a random playlist on her phone she hummed along and ignored the burning blue eyes watching her from behind. Sometimes she wished she could focus and know what the other was thinking. But instead of worrying about his thoughts, she focused on not burning herself and continued to do her hair through layers and quietly combed the curls out after spraying them— only to tackle them with more hairspray so they would they throughout the night.

She didn't know what color her dress would be, so she settled with neutral soft tones for her makeup. Michael always liked it when her makeup was much more glossy and natural. Silently singing along to Lana Del Rey, she stared at her reflection. At this rate, she didn't even look like she could have ever worked the night life. She looked sweet and innocent.

In the back of Michaels mind, he stared absentmindedly at the girl before getting off the comfort of the bed. He striped out of what he was wearing and glanced out the window. The sun was beaming brightly, it's rays kissed against his skin as he changed. He was illuminated by a soft glow. Rose watched from the mirror while biting her bottom lip. His denim jeans hung from his waist, the zipper and button from the pants still left opened as he squeezed into a emerald green turtleneck. All his muscles showed in that moment as he lifted his arms. Rose was melting in her seat, but before he could notice her gawking— she finished doing her makeup and applied her lashes and lipstick.

This is so frustrating, she thought. Standing up, Rose quickly changed and avoided Michael while doing so. She didn't wear anything too crazy, they were still in fact going to go get their outfits for the night. Putting on a tank top with a baggy flannel and a pair of mom jeans, she glanced up at Michael. "Get your shoes and wallet and let's go." Nodding, she did as told and followed after him. The way he wore  his hair up in that messy bun drove her even crazier. Why was she raging this hard. Rose didn't even feel this hungry for Richard himself— but here she was after Michael— who had always been nothing but sweet and respectful to her.

Following after the taller male, she got lost in her notions. In a way, she always did seem to forget he could listen to her every running contemplation or anything she'd imagine— he could easily picture. From the way she was lost in thinking, she never realized or even noticed the smirk sitting on his lips. Opening the car door for her, he waited for her to get in. Quietly doing so, she sat in the car and buckled up. As this happened, she thought of Richard and that day he caught her in the club with that blue-haired guy— she had forgotten his name. But she remembered how roughly Richard shoved her into the vehicle— the way they made love in the cemetery. The tone of his voice.. his breathing— even the way he smelled— and the cold knife pressed against her neck. Her face was flushed. She was thinking too much now. It was inappropriate for her to be thinking of both of them this way.
Cursing in her head, she looked over at Michael. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the stick. Looking away out the window, she decided to focus on the view and watched people walking home or going to work and the little kids playing on the sidewalk. A small smile sat on her lips. Their innocence made her happy. She was once innocent, kind of— before Richard came along, before being chased into the cursed camp. Part of her wandered what would have happened if she had gone with those men, she wouldn't have been here. She would have probably ended up living in the basement to some perverted old man. Or worse.

"Do you have any idea of what color you want your dress to be?" Michael tapped his slender, perfect fingers against the steering wheel. "Not really, I could use some fashion advice from you." Rose smiled, Michael always knew how to dress himself with class and elegance. It was the only way he knew how to carry himself. "Of course, I'll buy you shoes and jewelry to go with the dress— I'm sure we'll find something perfect." He looked over at her briefly and then focused his eyes back on the road.

Before she knew it, they were standing outside a large plaza with nothing but expensive name brand buildings. "I'm feeling a little Versace today, I'm sure you'll look gorgeous in a sleek black dress from theirs." Taking her hand, he pulled her along and laced his fingers with her. She could practically feel her heart beat raising. Richard never made her feel this way. In the end, all he was doing was using her. Michael seemed to genuinely care for her. Maybe it all came down to the way she met either of them.
Quietly, the pair entered the store and were greeted by well dressed workers. Michael did all the talking and flashed his perfect smile, she suddenly recalled Donatella. Silently, they were taken to the back where there was nothing but a vast selection of dresses. Her jaw nearly dropped. Whoa.

This was going to be extremely time consuming.

—
8:10pm
N.Y.C

Rose stared at herself and nearly threw up, not in a bad way— but she looked so beautiful, and felt the part too. Michael had left her alone with a few stylist and he went off to get himself ready at a different part of the store. Just as she turned to stare at the exposed V-line of the back of the dress, Michael came into sight. He was adjusting the sleek button down shirt he wore before glancing up. There was a pause in his walk, before he realized what he was doing. "They did take my advice, you look great— everything is paid for— we should get going."
Softly nodding, she thanked the workers and walked up with Michael. They looked like a stinkin-rich power couple.

Making their way back into the car, The male put the vehicle into drive and began to move to the exclusive nightclubs in the city. It wasn't a long drive, since they were in-fact in the richest side of the city. "I paid for a reservation at a club, we get a large section in the back to ourselves and we can just mingle with other people in the crowd." The honey blonde male stopped in front of a beautiful large modern building. Paying for Valet parking, he pulled Rose with him and draped his arm around her waist as they walked. Being this close to him again was setting her off the edge. Only imagining the two inside, in the darkness with other people made her feel a lump in the back of her throat. They easily cut the line and were escorted to their area. Everything was Perfect.

Ordering a few drinks, they exchanged a few smiles and toasts before heading to the dance floor. The energy in the room was insane, from the thumping music the DJ was playing, to the hot bodies rubbing and pressing against each other. Funny enough, the person in charge of the music started playing old hits and newer songs from The Weeknd.

Pressing her body against Michael, Rose began to dance against his frame while chugging from the drink in her hand. His hands roamed her and pulled her close, she could feel his warm breath lingering over her exposed shoulder. The bottom of her stomach was churning wildly, a sanctuary of butterflies were threatening to escape her. Turning to face him, he pressed his strong hands down against her waist and swayed with her. His blue eyes never left her brown ones. An ocean clashing with a earthy terrain, occurred every time their gazes met.
More drinks were passed around and she could practically feel herself melting onto him. Hours had passed and regardless of how much her feet were throbbing, she wanted to continue to feel his hands against her skin: holding her. Leaning onto him, her own hands roamed over his toned back. His body was warm. She could practically feel the erection in his pants ready to strike. The instant it pressed against her, their lips connected hungrily.
The flashing red lights made it seem as if they were kissing in an Inferno with dancing demons in the flames.

Huffing out, she pulled back and practically dragged him with her. "Let's get out of here." She whispered to him against his neck. That was enough to get him going. He followed after her and glared daggers at anyone that stared her way. The pair leaving, unaware of the person waiting for them at the house.

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