Gorgeous (english version)

pilot

Leaning against the bathroom sink, I feel my body sway in time to the music playing through the door. The bathroom lights flicker a few times, confusing my senses. Is it an electrical problem or am I the one oscillating?

I am fine.

I take a deep breath and splash some cold water on my face.I am fine. I repeat a few more times.

At 23, I should know by now how much alcohol I can handle. However, the charm of wine is such that two glasses never seem to be enough.

I think I drank too much. I think I smoked too much. I can't organize my thoughts and I don't even have time for that.

Jean knocks on the bathroom door. The knocks are strong and impatient, as if he's in a hurry to have me. That's just how he is. 

On the outside, he's a Prince. But inside, he's the kind of guy my mom warned me to stay away from, and I'm starting to understand why. How foolish of me to ignore what she says? Screw it. 

I step out of the bathroom, and Jean pulls me towards him, gripping my arm tightly. He lets out the classic "why did you take so long, babe?" And then his lips crash against mine, eager and rough. There's no gentleness. Pain immediately mixes with pleasure, and it excites me. Am I a masochist or am I just wearing myself out in my own self-destruction? 

Such a handsome guy with loads of cash, reeking of weed and the taste of alcohol on his lips. Tsch. We're an impending disaster. How long will it take for us to collide with each other and for a disaster to happen? Will I get hurt? Why am I thinking about this now? Damn it. My head is so full. My mouth is so full with his invading tongue, touching every part his hands can reach. What a desperate boy. 

He watches me with his huge, dark, penetrating brown eyes, as if he wants to devour me completely. He should know that I'm not the prey here. However, I let him believe he's in control. I'm so intoxicated that the idea doesn't bother me now. 

The lights seem to flicker more intensely. His big hands holding mine can't make me want to stay, but I can't stop myself from going after him. In the dance hall, with a slow song playing in the background, he seems to shine. Like a moth, I dance around him. My fragile wings dangerously draw closer. 

I feel myself ignite as he kisses me again. Maybe I really suck at love, but I excel at kissing. I know this because I can feel his member pulsating against my thigh as our tongues intertwine in a provocative dance.

I bite your lower lip, displaying a mischievous smile. He swallows hard, with difficulty. I glide my hand smoothly down your body until I reach your groin. You're so aroused that your cock seems ready to tear through the thin fabric of your pants. What a silly boy. I pull away and he lets out a deep sigh. I don't know if it's frustration or relief. Perhaps he was on the verge of losing control."You look beautiful tonight," he says, enveloping me in all the sweet things a man can say to fuck you hard. And after another glass of expensive and equally sweet wine, I let him guide me to bed and possess me until I fade away with the moon, before the sunrise.