✧.*"But you showed who you are, then one magical night I forgot that you existed"✧.*
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
White crystals rest on the tip of Indira's tongue, the salt creating a brine in her mouth. She raises a glass of clear liquid to her red lips, the strong liquor not fazing her anymore, sharp black nails pick up the fleshly lime, the sour citrus blocking any bitterness left by the cheap tequila.
"It's not my fault you're acting like such a bitch" he shouts looking down at the girl below him
"I haven't done anything to you," she yells back, her voice matching his ferocity. "Why do you hate me?"" her voice still loud but breaking ever so slightly
One after the other, shots pour down the woman's throat. What remains of the argument is only present in the slight smear of eyeliner under her eyes, and well the constant buzzing emitting from the red phone. Indira knows if she flips over the screen and looks she'll find countless calls and messages.
"Indy come back it's not like that"
"You know I'm just stressed"
"Babe come on your being dramatic"
"You're a fucking coward Indira"
But she hadn't found it in herself to look, this was supposed to be a good day but no, he just had to go and ruin it for her. She literally just got the job of her dreams. Well, Tom had always been a little jealous but never like this. No. Never like this.
"Indy this was my dream, our dream and you're gonna throw it away for some stupid job" he jabs at her.
She falters slightly, taking a step back from the man she loves. "What about me?" "What about my dreams?" she cries out.
The melody of her favorite song interrupted her thoughts. The self-pity could wait a little longer. She slid off the tall bar stool, wobbling slightly on her heels, and practically skipped to the crowded dance floor.
The flashing lights, and the music vibrating through Indira's chest enveloped her. The scent of alcohol and sweat clung to her freshly wrinkled black suit. With her tousled black hair, she looked far from the professional she had been only hours earlier. But she didn't care about her appearance now;
She moved to the music, surrounded by people, but it didn't matter. It was her favorite song, after all. Two hands grab onto her hips. She quickly turns around at the drunk man
"Stop touching me!" the black-haired woman cries, her words slurred.
The man ignores her plea and instead pulls Indira closer, his hold smelling strongly of beer and other things she didn't want to think of. Just as she was about to stab the red bottoms of her heels into the foot of the drunk man behind her, a person comes and grabs Indira, pushing the man off of her, his hair brown, waving above his eye.
"Are you ok?" he asks, steering Indira to a less crowded area of the club. The woman looks up, her eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones.
"Yeah fine," she slurs, leaning on him for support.
"Is there anyone here for you, I can get, or anyone you want me to call?"
She shakes her head sleepily leaning into him further "Nope i'm here alone" she mumbles dragging along her words. The music from the dance floor was quieter, but still loud enough to hear.
