Eternal Longing ✓

3. Where Demons Dance

FINLEY

I'm not one for violence.

Let me rephrase that. I'm not one for public displays of violence. I'm not the guy that fights at bars or gets riled up at sports games.

Not only am I not easily frustrated, but nothing angers me enough for me to react physically.

Nothing has been able to penetrate the comfortable mask I wear, to go underneath and take a peek inside the demons that dance in the night. Nothing has broken the reality that I've created.

Perhaps, nothing might be a bit of an exaggeration. Because one thing has. Or, specifically, one person. One particular woman.

I clench my fists tightly as I watch the disgusting scene happening on the other side of the restaurant. Tension courses through my veins, my vision begins blurring, and my demons demand to be unleashed.

My mask cracks.

I'm going to choke her for allowing his dirty hands to even graze a hair on her body.

Another crack.

I'll choke her for smiling up at him like that.

More cracks.

She'll regret doing this to me.

"Fins!" A screeching voice calls out to me, and I snatch my eyes away from the disgusting sight of my woman in that fucker's arms.

The mask slides back in place.

"Yes?" I turn to look at the waitress standing by my table.

Skinny, brown hair, happy smile. I file away her attributes with a quick look, trying to remember who she is.

I smile lightly, fake as hell, but it does the job. She believes my mask, just like everybody else.

"Macy, right?" I ask her, remembering where I know her from despite how unmoved I am by her.

Macy smiles brightly. The staff at Bows and Arrows do not wear name tags, so she's pleased that I remembered her name. She believes she matters.

She believes that her existence is of significance to me when that could not be farther away from the truth.

"You remember!" Macy flushes brightly and I give her a rehearsed smirk.

"Of course, I do. You're pretty memorable." Not exactly the case, but I need her on my side.

She giggles as girls that attempt to be shy do. Her laughter is an annoying squeal so different from the low, rich chuckles from a certain woman that haunts me day and night.

Chuckles that she's always directed to others. Chuckles that she's even now directing to someone else. Always others.

I fist my hands under the table, willing myself to relax and take a step back for now. I'll get my time to play with her soon enough.

"Crazy I would see you here, right?" Macy giggles a little more, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

I want to tell her it isn't that crazy I would see her here given how popular this restaurant is, but I remind myself that she's somewhat of a necessary evil, so I nod in agreement.

"Do you believe in fate, Macy? Because I think that's what is at work here." Internally, I roll my eyes at the meaningless words coming out of my mouth.

"Yeah," Macy sounds breathless and I almost sigh disappointedly at how easy it is to attract her. "I do believe in fate."

Leaning back in my booth, I nod with a smile as fake as any rich housewife's breast implants.

Good plastic, but when you put a knife to it and peek beneath the layers, you'll see what truly lies underneath.

"You're a Fine Arts major, right?" I switch topics quickly, but Macy is too blinded by my face, by the mask, to notice the shift.

"Uh, yes. With a specialty in Painting and Sketching," she breathes out eagerly.

I nod slowly, my blood pumping faster at the mere mention of my little artist's major and specialty.

I might hate myself for it, but the woman is lodged firmly underneath the layer of plastic that I show the world.

"That's fantastic," I tell Macy, being truthful for the first time since she came up to take my order.

It is fantastic because it means that she'll be perfect for something I have in mind. The perfect little pawn in my quest to take from her.

Despite her insignificance to me, she's now become an important part of my plan. A rather juvenile yet effective plan to take something of value from a woman that has taken complete residence in my brain.

Jaya Patterson has made me crazy enough to last a thousand lifetimes. It's about time my little artist pays back for what she's done to me.