Ghost Shorts | Fem!Reader

ALONE

A haze of incense cloaked you, sitting there, delicately spinning the tip of your finger in
your drink, playing with the ice. One twist of the wrist allowed a quick check of the time.

35 minutes.

Your date, 35 minutes late. A certified stand up at this point. It didn't matter, just another one to add to a string of failed first meetings. You let out a sigh of disappointment, leaning back slightly into your bar stool. It was a nice place, even though it wasn't your idea. A dimly lit cocktail bar, off a main street, one of those places you would only hear about from someone else, viva voce. You weren't sure if that made it better, or worse. There were certainly less delightful places to be left alone in. The drinks bordered on pretentious, but nothing too extravagant; you'd checked the list before you arrived, the thought of ordering on the spot somewhat anxiety inducing. 

And so you sat, if only for a moment, unsure of what to do, the spicy, fruity liquid continuing to twist in circles at your will. Mind made up, you put your fingertip on your tongue, a drip transferring into your mouth; it was definitely not for the faint hearted. You let the burn subside before hailing the bartender once again.

"Still waiting on company, miss?"

"Not anymore."

You tried and failed to not make your tone sound dejected, clearing your throat, leaning forwards, elbows on the bar, chin in palm.

"Can I please have another?"

"Of course, no bother. Same again?"

"Please."

You smiled large, closed mouth. He returned an empathetic grin accompanied with a head tilt as he grabbed a bottle. Whilst you waited, you took your phone out, opening the messages.

<<Tomorrow night?>>

<<Sure, what time?>>

<<7.30? I'll share the address with you.>>

Such a promising conversation - even choosing the place to meet - made it all the more unfortunate. Back, swipe, delete. It was so effortless now. The age of online dating in a big city a maze to navigate your way through for an individual who possessed a shred of humility. You flipped your phone around leaving it face down, out of sight out of mind, as the bartender returned.

"Card again, please."

Fingers fumbled around in your bag.

"It was already paid for."

It was what? That got your attention, making you immediately stop, looking up.

"Sorry?"

"It was already paid for, miss."

"By who?"

"The gentleman —" He stepped aside as he spoke. "Over there."

Across the bar from you sat a man you hadn't even noticed until now, too engrossed in your own impatience. Eyelids raised as his gaze met yours, a defined jaw shifting. He was rugged. And he was fucking gorgeous. You stared at him, unrelenting, watching as he moved out his seat, walked over towards you. Shit, he was tall.

Eyes dropped feeling a heat creep across your face, across your whole body, the closer he got. You ran your tongue along the edges of your teeth, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face.

"Do you mind?"

His fingers were long, elegant, veins obvious, flexing, as his hand curled around the back
of the stool next to you. It rendered you speechless. You simply shook your head, eye contact fleeting in an attempt to control yourself. He sat in the seat next to you, and he smelt good. Understated. When his arm reached out to grab his glass, carefully sliding it across the surface, you noticed he had a sleeve of tattoos, which did little to make how muscular he was inconspicuous. Somehow your manners found you again.

"Thank you."

"For?"

With only a one word reply, his voice had you captivated too. Strong accent spoken in a deep, gravely tone.

"Buying my drink."

"Of course. I doubted you came here dressed like that, to be alone. But, correct me if I'm wrong."

He glanced out the corner of his eye at you before raising glass to lips, perfect lips, taking
a swig of his drink. He wasn't wrong. Hair down, make up on, the right amount of gloss, the nicest, no, the hottest outfit you could find. You deserved some company, especially company which looked like him. Eyes wandered around the bar, settling on a couple cozied in a booth, kissing each other, lips toying, biting, flirting into each others mouths. Thoughts changed. It wasn't any kind of long term companionship you sought tonight, not anymore.

Condensation ran down your palm, a temperature low enough to be shocking as it continued to slide along your wrist, the fresh drink gone in mere seconds. Pot-valiance for embarking on some not so innocent questions.

"What's your name then?"

"Simon."

Simon. Arms shifted, skin brushing against the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. Heat pooled inside you, a wave of excitement trickling it's way over every cell.

"Simon, do you live around here?"

It sounded good, his name rolling off your tongue. He turned his head to face you, eyes meeting. The heat inside turning into a fire, but fingers were cold from nerves, breathing becoming just a little more shaky. His arm shifted closer. Intentional motions.

"No."

Perfect. Probably just passing through. No strings attached. Your nails gently tapped the empty glass as you looked at it; had it been that or the heavily scented, sensual smog which was making you feel so heady?

"If I asked you to take me home, where ever home is tonight, would you?"

Peripheral vision saw his cheeks rise, an indication of a smile. He nodded slightly as he answered.

"Yes."

"And if I asked you to fuck me, would you?"

He shifted in his seat, nose scrunched as he sniffed, arm flexing. Moving away. That same elegant, strong hand now grasping the back of your stool. His thumb barely brushing your spine.

"Yes."

You drew out the moment, pushing tongue in cheek, inhaling deeply to steady your
nerves. One more stolen glance at the couple, their actions rousing desire in you. It felt like you were electrified. Out the corner of your eye you saw him looking. Watching. Simon. Simon. It went round and round your head as you blinked slowly, head turning, raising your gaze.

Eyes made contact once again.

"So do it."