Freefall | Eren x OC

Chapter 09: The Scarred Stranger

You rush into the bar, The Royal Hookah, and scan the bustling dimly lit lounge for your girlfriends. You see them closer to the back and sunk into their small lounge chairs, clearly already partaking in the merriment. You walk over, spewing "I'm sorry" at least ten times as you to sit down in the one empty chair.

Rochelle looks at you through glazed eyes, "Well glad you could make it, Miss I'm-Here-for-My-Girlfriends-Tonight." You can tell she's already stoned, but you still flinch a bit at her words. 

"I said I'm sorry Chelle, I ran into someone at the Whiskey place, and I couldn't pull away."

Frida frowns at that. "When you said you were looking for dick tonight, I'd hoped you'd look somewhere better than Whiskey and Blues." You roll your eyes as you grab the hose. 

"Please, it's not like that. We just talked," you say as you inhale the hashish deeply, holding it before exhaling it out above your head.

"Oh, all you did was talk huh? Even less reason for you to take forever. I'd at least respect if you was tied up but come on."

"Oh gurl, enough. Would you shut the hell up and relax? How can you still be so cunty when you're high?" you snap hazily.

Rochelle lets out a drawn out laugh and you join in as you both silently laugh. You're already feeling the effects and you slide to the ground as you laugh. Even Frida starts laughing. 

"Wait, what are we laughing at?" Rochelle asks after a few minutes.

"Fuck if I know," you giggle as you get back up into your seat.

The three of you partake in a few more inhales before you all grow quiet and lay back languidly in your seats. You take in all the senses of the lounge, the talking, the laughing, the smell of different aromas mixing in the air. Frida rolls her head to the side, and her eyes widen ever so slightly.

"Rose, don't look but someone's checking you out at 3 o'clock."

"Hmm?" You hazily turn your head to look while Frida lets out a groan of protest. 

"Dumbass, I told you not to look."

You see a few tables from you that there's a man you do not know watching you while smirking. Your eyes meet and you let out a little smile, a blush forming on your cheeks. He brings his hose up to his lips and draws in smoke before expertly retrohaling through his nose.

He gets up and strolls over to your section and you can't help but take in all of him. He's incredibly tall and muscular with straight black hair that reaches his ears and covers half his face. He has a distinctive scar at the corner of his lip and he's wearing a black tight-fitting short sleeve shirt and baggy tan pants. He grabs a chair from a solo smoker's table nearby, without the slightest acknowledgement. The smoker lets out a note of protest, but he quickly shuts up when he sees the man's size and looks back down at his phone. The man with the scar brings the seat next to you and casually sits down as if he's known you this whole time. With him this close to you, you can't help but shiver, there's a sinister aura about him.

"Good evening, ladies, how's your night going?" he asks as he keeps his eyes on you. "I thought I'd come over and introduce myself."

"We're alright," you say, knowing that the question was really directed at you. "We come here whenever we get a chance and thought this was a good place to end the night."

The scarred man nods at that, a small smirk drawing up the side of his cheek with the scar. "Oh, I bet. What are you partaking in?"

"Hashish," Rochelle drawls out, completely unaware of what's happening, she's too far gone.