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chapter 55: tommy.

(check trigger warnings)

I can hear sirens, sirens.

He hit me and it felt like a kiss.

I can hear violins, violins.

"Do you?" He repeats himself after I just stay in wide-eyed silence, looking at him for an uncomfortable amount of time.

What in hell, dude?

"Hm- No." I'm saying with audible confidence and a delicate, sensual smile before I can give it second thoughts.

Okay, hear me out... A reckless decision, sure, but not necessarily one I feel particularly ashamed about. I hardly feel anything at all right now. And I plan on feeling less and less throughout the night and the glass succession.

Maybe I said it just out of the impulse I have to never not be overly polite, but regardless, there is, for whatever reason, a man taking a seat across from me on my table right now.

He unbuttons his blazer right before sitting down, doing so with such masculine energy, it catches me off guard for a second. The fabric of his pants becomes a little wrinkly on the sides so he runs his hands through his legs as he parts them slightly. Oh?

He is very clearly an adult. Early to mid thirties I would think.

His hair is very brown, so are his eyes. Skin fair, much lighter than mine, an angular jaw covered in a perfectly groomed stubble. Slim built but not really thin, tall but not Noah type tall - maybe around 6ft. Definitely handsome. Likely charismatic too.

I've noticed people's eyes are on him. On us, perhaps. Because a grown man is sitting down with a teenager. But the harsh contrast may only be visible to me because only I'm aware of my 17 years of age. I think I may look older than I am. Maybe I look, like, 25 or something. These people probably think so.

I really am older than I am.

I chose handsome to describe him which, usually, isn't an adjective I use to describe boys I'm attracted to. They are usually pretty. But he is not a boy. And he is not necessarily pretty like that either. He is handsome. Very masculine, which usually isn't something I'm all that interested in, but I seem to be tonight... Not sure if I'm necessarily interested in him specifically or if I'm interested in this entire, profoundly strange situation, or if I'm not interested at all, but I'm quite intrigued.

Needless to say, if I was really trying to dive deep into any of what is happening right now - why a grown men is sitting down with me at a quarter past two in the morning at a bar for millionaires - I'd be profoundly disturbed... 

But I don't need to think much because I know why. Men love little girls, I know they do - why else do you think society wants to sell eternal youth to women? - and this man probably does as well. I just don't feel like going against it tonight, I just don't have it in me. 

"Oh, you're just a dream..." He gives me a winsome smile as his eyes move up, down and to the sides, all across my entire figure.

That was... oddly very attractive, I'm not gonna lie... How the smile opened on one side of his face first, only then both. The way his head is nodding in apparent disbelief. How he is analysing me. What he just said. Say what you want, no matter who you are, what your situation is... a compliment like that from someone like this is always gonna be nice to hear.

I'm no different.

Actually, on a night like tonight, it's sounding extra good. To have the reassurance that even if my life is full of trauma and messes, and disappointments and hurt, one after the other, I'm a woman who is young and beautiful and desirable... and that is something people see. Men see. Even older men see.