"Do you live around here?"
Cheryl's constantly taunting character does not fool me into believing she is harmless or trustworthy. On the contrary, I distrust her heavily, although I somehow do not feel threatened by her. I generally view people as a menace, so this is an odd happenstance.
"Does it matter?" My counter-question is brisk, but not in any way aggressive.
A broad smile pulls at her lips. "I gotta know how drunk I can try to get ya tonight."
"It's a shame I'm driving, then."
Hopefully, my reply was not too suspicious. Whether or not I would be attempting to learn about her is inconsequential, though. Considering I am highly aware of the harmful effects of coffee to the point of never drinking it, I could never endorse the consumption of alcohol. I mean, alcoholic beverages are basically the evil stepmother of caffeinated drinks.
Playful as always, she concurs, "A real shame. But, hey, I always drink for two, anyway."
The young woman winks at me and hops off the couch, strolling in the direction of the mini refrigerator. If my liver was in shambles and still recovering from having been slashed wide open, I would be scared to even take a sip of soda. Well, 'scared' is maybe a bit of an overstatement. My point is, alcohol is infamous for destroying the liver and Cheryl does not seem like she could care any less about her health. Which begs the question, why do I care so much?
Ugh, I need to get back on track. This is infuriating; her mere presence distracts me more than I have ever experienced with any other individual.
"Do you come here often?" I ask her, hoping for a concrete answer.
My interlocutor sits back down, showing off her long painted nails by pulling the cork off the unsealed wine bottle which she is clutching with her right hand. The sharpened tips of her nails are coated with a sleek black nail polish, accentuating the beautiful curves of their lower halves.
"Uh-huh," she distractedly enunciates, lifting the bottle's neck until the opening brushes her lips.
I watch her as she gulps lengthily on the pale liquor, forcing myself not to get discouraged just yet. My gut told me to pursue my investigation for a reason, and I intend to persevere until I validate my instinct.
She adds to her prior response, setting the bottle down against her right thigh:
"And you don't... Or else I would've noticed you before."
Her voice is slightly ominous, so I retort with amusement to lessen the tension.
"Oh, would you have?"
"Yes. I've got an eye for pretty things."
A knot grips my throat and my mind goes blank, I am unable to form any coherent comeback. Luckily for me, she was not done speaking and she finishes her statement with an innocent query: "Can I see it? Your fedora, I mean. It's a really pretty hat, I... Like it."
Her self-satisfied grin indicates she was fully aware of the meaning that her sentence suggested. I inhale subtly, slowly handing my hat out for her to grab. She snatches it from my hands and expertly pulls it down onto her head, without messing up the position of a single strand of her hair.
"That looks good," I simply remark, hoping flattery might get me somewhere.
"Yeah, you definitely live around here. No one as sweet as you would willingly hang out in this place."
The young woman seems confident in her statement, which could work in my favor. If I do not deny it, her false success could urge her to open up. Besides, judging by the fact that she is currently taking another swig of wine directly out of the bottle, I do not think I will need to scheme much more soon. Her foreseeable intoxication will dull her inhibitions, along with her ability to swerve my inquiries.
YOU ARE READING
Fascinating Villains
Action[ONGOING] "You're delusional. I should've seen it before..." ~~~~~~~ Tanza is an agender paramedic. They rely solely on themselves, and the last thing they need is for an incredibly attractive supervillain to disturb their (relatively) quiet existen...
