The Attachment Project

Chapter 1: Prima Facie

"Do you work here?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

That's how all this began. With four little words. How did she get here? How did they get here? 9 months ago, Rayne had rules. When it came to dating, not love, never love, Rayne only had 4 rules:

1. 2-week limit, 3 if the sex is good

2. Get their number, don't give yours

3. Never meet friends or family

4. Never, ever fall in love

She knew it was childish and very much fuck-boi behavior, but it worked for her. She had order. She had control. But with four words, her rules became mere suggestions, and her control, one of the leading components of her persona, was rendered nonexistent.

Was she able to make decisions? Yes. Were her choices judged? No, never. Did she ask for more than she wanted to give? Yes. No. Maybe? Was she a righteous bitch in the end? Oh, yes. She supposed that was where everything went wrong. But the real questions remain, the ones that she dares not ask, even to herself for fear of the ramifications the admittance may cause. Would she change anything about their clandestine and seemingly fortuitous meeting? Would she have been able to walk away from beauty and the essence of life that the then stranger personified? Would she put a stop to the subsequent blooming of their relationship and, in turn, her own heart? Would she really want to?

Four words that lead her to the Piazza on Paces office building standing outside of Local Three Kitchen & Bar, with her hands pushed deep into her pockets toward of the offending chill, her stomach flipping and her heart palpitating at an almost unhealthy rate. Here she stands on wobbling legs with a rapidly racing heart and an expeditiously fading resolve, her mind wandering back to that night.

The night that her old life ended, a drab existence of survival, coordination, unhealthy coping mechanisms and she fell head long into the sweet abyss of a woman that made her feel, really feel for the first time in years.

And it all started with four little words...

9 MONTHS EARLIER

"Do you work here?"

Rayne looked up from her phone, momentarily distracted by a DM from her ex and was immediately taken aback by the piercing amber eyes and the spattering of freckles that transverse the bridge of her nose as the two women collided.

Glancing from side to side, noticing that besides them, there were only two other people that lingered in the poorly lit space and realizing that this beautiful and obviously inebriated woman must be speaking to her,

"Er... m-me?" Rayne asked, stammering slightly.

The woman stared, holding one of those new rose vibrators in one hand and squinting at her phone, her glassy eyes lidded and heavy with whatever alcoholic beverage she'd been drinking and smiled.

"Yes you, beautiful. I need ass-istance." She says, dissolving into a fit of giggles from her own joke. "Get it? ASS-istance?"

Beautiful? Rayne felt the muscle in her abdomen clinch and blood rush to her cheeks. She had been called many things in her life; hot, sexy, a tease, fuckable and on one terrible occasion, Mami. But beautiful? That was a first. Usually, this kind of drunken banter would annoy Rayne, causing her to roll her eyes or outright ignore the ramblings, but surprisingly, she found the corners of her mouth curling up into a soft smirk at this woman's humor and was compelled to keep this silly conversation going for a while longer.