heart racer ; xiao

• the bar

The bar was bustling as always. Random people flirting left and right, trying to hit it good and bag someone home.

Or you had people like me. Coming to think about their decisions and use alcohol as a means of clearing the mind.

I walked over to the bar to get the attention of the tender. "Whiskey sour, please." I got the drink and made my way over to a booth.

I don't know why but I genuinely felt disappointed he said no. There wasn't even an explanation, just a straight up no.

I took a sip from the drink and furrowed my eyebrows as it went down my throat. The chatting in the room helped ease my mind a little more.

Did I genuinely like him? Even if I did, he doesn't like me. That one worded answer was enough to understand that he wants nothing to do with me. I'm only an opponent in his eyes, a rival to his name.

I leaned my head into my arms on the table, facing away from the room and looking at the wall.

He was the only thing circulating my mind. Is it because I want to get to know him better? Is it just because of sex or romance? What was it that drew me to him?

I stared at my drink, deep in thought until I was interrupted by the sound of a 'tsk'. I turned my head around to look at who had made the sound.

"You're pathetic." He said, looking down at me. My eyes widened and I immediately turned my head back around to the wall.

"You could at least say hello." The voice said. I heard the movement of leather, meaning he had sat down.

I turned again to face him and lifted myself up in my seat. I smirked at him. "Heya pretty boy." To this he rolled his eyes.

"What's with you and the names?" I laughed a little at this. What an oblivious man!

"I'm only teasing you~" I went to reach for my drink but his left hand had grabbed my wrist, halting my movement. His right hand reached for the drink and he took a sip.

Heat scorched through my body from this action. It wasn't even anything serious, but to me, anything he did was a field day for me.

"Interesting pick." He set the drink down on the table and let my wrist go. I brought my wrist to my other hand and rubbed it where he had grabbed it with force.

"Yeah well, didn't think you were coming." I was confused why he was even here. When did he get here? Has he been here the entire time?

"I've been here. Just wanted to see if you'd still come." He signaled for a waitress to our booth with his finger.

"That's creepy, are you a stalker?" I asked him and raised my eyebrow. Maybe he's plotting my murder?

"No, I'm not. You're just desperate." I was offended by his statement. Me? Desperate? In what universe?

"And what makes you think that?" I leaned back into the leather cushioning. Does he really think that about me?

He kept the same neutral expression as always. "Even after I declined, you still came. Did you hope I'd show up?" He leaned forward a little in his seat.

"Hell no! I came here cause I was bored. I was coming either if you said no." I lied, obviously. He doesn't need to know the truth and he never will.

He looked at me with an expression that said 'seriously?' He obviously didn't believe me and I don't blame him, but he didn't push to ask anything further on that subject.

It was quiet for a moment. I was staring at the drink and he was staring off to the room filled with sad and loud drunks.

I wanted to ask more about him. I wanted to know so much about him. He's like a maze. I think I'm going the right way to something, but there's a dead end somewhere.