Stop Running Away

Chapter 1

I am nervous.

To be more precise, I am freaking nervous. Technically this is the very first time I sit in a booth of the most well-known nightclub in the city.

People are drinking, dancing, and talking under the splendid caliginous neon lights. Except for me, I can only grab my beer bottle so hard even my knuckles turn white. I do not know what to do except hide behind Caitlyn on the leather wooden bench and watch guys come and go to flirt with her. And yes, probably someone did hit on me either, but I was too rattled to organize a complete sentence. Caitlyn shouts in my ear like I am deaf: "You need to loosen up."

Hell yeah, like I do not know this. I am starting to regret that I agreed to come here. This is just so not my thing, not a thing in my culture, not a thing in my gene, not a thing in now nor in the future. I should never come here. I sigh deeply in my mind and start to want to vomit. Yep, you did not hear me wrong. When I am extremely nervous, I tend to get nauseous.

In the country where I come from, at least the generation I come from, I am sure most people will never see a relationship proper if it starts with hitting on each other in a bar. Or it is just my point of view. Pretty old and outdated, but it is how I perceive "a relationship starts in a bar" per to say.

I try to persuade Caitlyn to leave. We have tons of homework that need to be done this weekend. And we do not have much time left since the deadline will be on Monday, and now is the freaking Saturday night. I cannot afford to fail any class. Caitlyn grips my thigh to keep me sitting on my seat. She is having fun talking to a blonde dude. The guy is literally like coming out of a medieval oil painting with his medium-long hair pinned behind his ears, a prince charming, totally Caitlyn's cup of tea. I breathe out and learn to accept the reality since Caitlyn is enjoying her life here and I would never leave Caitlyn in a bar on her own.

"I am not leaving. Just need some fresh air." I might puke on myself if I stay here another second even though I only had a few sips of beer.

I fetch my coat and force a way out through the milling crowd. It is freezing outside. Immediately I hate myself for the idea of coming out for some stupid air. When I plan to head back to the bar, a guy comes out, and he is quite a looker. I am not sure it is because of the damn cold weather, or I have just lost my mind. I keep staring at him in a way that I do not even notice what I am doing.

"Hi," Suddenly his alluring lips are parting. His voice is clipped and crisp at the same time.

It takes me a while to realize that he is talking to me. I did notice that he was looking in my direction. So I slowly turned around to see if anyone standing next to me, and unfortunately, no one. Hence, I draw a conclusion, he is talking, and to me.

"Oh... I am sorry. I did not mean to stare ..." I could not finish the sentence. Cause no matter what, I did look at him for a bit. Or a pretty long bit.

He grins. For god's sake, even his teeth are good-looking. However, I am definitely not the kind of person who would do some casual chat outside a bar. Not mentioning now is probably minus eighteen degrees, my brain must be so damaged in a certain way that I would stare at a handsome man for a long time. Hence, I naturally choose to be silent. I do not know what to say.

He walks towards me. He is so tall. It only takes him two strides to come by my side. And I, of course, unconsciously step back, and one hand suddenly across my cheek reaches to the back of my head. My breath suddenly stops, and my brain suddenly goes completely blank. Only one crazy idea left in my mind is how wild people can be these days.

When there was a striking pain coming from my torso, I realized that I may just hit a tree. And this gentleman's hand had nothing to do with being wild but preventing my head from me being a complete idiot.