Oblivion

"Of all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been."

- John Greenleaf Whittier

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DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters. I wish, but that's all I get.

Heat surges down your throat as you drink your fourth shot of vodka tonight. But it's not yet enough, you think. You need something stronger, something to drown out all the noise around you, the noise inside your head. You need something to numb yourself from everything you're feeling right now. So you stand up, and walk towards the bar, amidst the swarm of people you pass along the way.

But you're stopped on your tracks as somebody decides to add up to the irritation that's already bugging you since you came in here today. It's a guy, noticeably shorter than you, because you're tall, something that's always noticed, something that's always worked on your part. And you use that to your advantage now as you tower over this lame excuse of a guy who's trying, but failing epically, to flirt with you.

"Hey babe, wanna dance with me?"

You roll your eyes as you look at him, "No," you answer lazily, conveying how much waste of a time it is to talk to him.

But he's persistent, and he follows you as you walk on. "Come on, you know you do." You choose to ignore him this time and continue to walk. "One dance, so you would know what you would have missed if you didn't," he kept saying.

And that's all it takes for you to snap, that's how irritated you are tonight. You're usually cool whatever it is that's happening. But not tonight. Everything is fucked up and you're exhausted and you just want to not be bothered and this guy is not helping so you face him, look down on him. "Listen, you dumbass. I don't want to dance with you. I don't want to speak to you. And I don't want to be anywhere near you so back the fuck off me!" You push him as hard as you can, and maybe it was his drunkenness or he's just really pathetically weak like that, and he falls on his back, garnering the attention of everyone oblivious to what was going on just seconds ago. You don't bother looking back at him as he curses you at the top of his lungs as you're finally able to reach the bar.

You're just about to order when you hear a voice beside you, beating you to it.

"One Long Island."

Surprised at the softness of the voice ordering such a strong drink, you immediately snap your head to your side to look at the owner of that voice. And there stood a woman with long blonde hair, cascading down her shoulders, wearing a silky peach top and faded jeans that hugged her legs perfectly. Her hair was obscuring her face and you don't know where the desire to see her face is coming from but you decide that you need to do something about that.

"Planning to get drunk, are we?" You ask as she takes a seat just beside you.

She looks at you, a little unsure if you're talking to her or not, and at that moment, you forget that you're pissed, you forget that you're supposed to be not feeling anything tonight, because you're suddenly faced with the most beautiful woman you have ever had the privilege of meeting. She looks so innocent, with those Bambi eyes, cute little nose, and oh so gorgeous lips, that you suddenly wonder what on earth she's doing at a place like this.

"Were you talking to me?" she asks, with her eyebrows raised, but a small tug of her lips upwards gives away the fact that something she likes is currently happening.