Make Me Forget (Haitani Brothers x Reader)

12

By the time we got to the nightclub, I had indeed gotten drunk. Maybe even a little too much, as I was having trouble focusing my eyes, but I couldn't complain. My mission was to forget about Ran and it was working.

Oliver was waiting for us at the entrance, scrolling through his phone. When Sarah first caught sight of him, she tugged on the sleeve of my jacket.

-Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Do I look half as good as him?

She asked with a worried expression, adjusting her dress.

-He should thank the heavens that a goddess like you would even look in his direction.

-I fucking hate you.

She nudged my shoulder, rolling her eyes.

When we finally walked inside, music instantly filled my ears. "Link Up" by Tinashe was blasting so loud on the speakers that I could feel the ground vibrate beneath my feet.

This. This was the environment I liked to be in. People were dressed casually, dancing, laughing, making out at every corner. I belonged in these kinds of clubs, not the ones where wealthy people sat around the dance floor, discussing financial matters and hitting on people for money.

After dancing for a good twenty minutes with Sarah and Oliver, I decided to give them some privacy by going to the bar area. I sat down on one of the high stools, still looking at them with a smile plastered on my face. I was happy for Sarah, he really seemed like a nice guy, but I couldn't help but feel a little envious as images of my failed relationships flashed through my mind.

I was snapped back to reality when I felt someone occupy the seat next to mine, followed by a deep voice directed at the bartender.

-A scotch and...?

It wasn't until I felt the bartender's eyes on me that I turned, finding the guy in the purple mullet waiting for my order. Something stirred inside me when I first saw him.

-I'm good, thanks.

I declined his offer with a polite smile. I was drunk enough as it was.

-Make it two, then.

He ignored me and I found myself shaking my head, still smiling to myself.

-You didn't come last week.

Oh. Did he wait for me?

-No, but I wish I had.

I confessed as I remembered what I was doing instead: kissing a mafia member who I thought was a nice, normal person, and with whom I thought I shared a special relationship, only to end up disappointed again, as I did with all the men I knew.

-Me too.

And there it was, as usual. The knot that formed in my stomach every time I was with him.

The purple-haired man's eyes never left mine. Not even when the bartender served our drinks and he took a sip from his glass.

-You never told me your name.

This time he tore his eyes away from me and stared at his hand instead, which was swirling his glass. A smirk tugged at his lips before he replied.

-Isn't it more fun that way?

-Guess you're right, stranger.

He laughed at my teasing. I wanted to know his name, I really did, but he had a point. A very good one, actually. Knowing more about people only brought problems. Maybe I needed to change the way I viewed relationships, and this was a good start.