chuckling she grabbed me harshly by my chin, her grey eyes piercing right into mines before leaning right towards my right ear her slow steady breath tickling my neck "Tell me, what's your favorite supernatural being люблю".
“I bet dead people are easier to get along with.” – Crona, 'Soul Eater.'
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★彡[ᴇꜱᴛʜᴇʀ]彡★
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Alexithymia
•nounPSYCHIATRY
the inability to recognize or describe one's own emotions. "alexithymia has been linked to depression and suicidal behavior"
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The quiet night was something anyone would enjoy when wanting to relinquish in your own thoughts. Light rain danced along the ground splashing every so often as cars came by bathing the wheels in the small puddle along the curb.
Tonight was the perfect night for drunks to get wasted, teens putting their fake I.d to use, men and and women to cheat and for us to bask in it all with their money.
Sometimes you'll see the same couple come in separately wondering if the other pair is aware. Then the women storming in catching their husbands in the back room; or the men coming in finding their wife shamelessly making out with a male dancer.
My shift ended 10 minutes ago leaving me to openly scan everyone over while making sure everything went smoothly. I continue to run my eyes over everyone until I glance towards the stage.
Delilah Freu. Our best dancer yet surprisingly since she's only been here less than 3 months, but as soon as she stepped on the stage she made a name for herself. So much I felt jealousy rake up my body just missing being on the pole myself.
Tonight the club was packed and the busiest it's ever been. So much even some of the new girls were a bit frightened but that's to be expected.
I was a bit confused myself. Sure we're a busy and very popular club but it's usually regulars and all.
I watched from behind the curtains as men and women head towards the V.I.P, already being handed drinks as they took seats around the curved booth.
They screamed well....rich.
The men all had on different types of suits that looked expensive while the women wore something to match I assume their partners attire, most of them consisted of dresses.
All except one.
One woman who stood out; her cold gaze not faltering while scanning the club, even when her eyes meet my own....
'Fuck'
Hurriedly I close the curtains back heading towards the dressing room to change out my "outfit" into my shorts and long sleeves body suit.