Dark Desire ( Ahs fanfiction )

Three

   My face turns white whilst my ears began to grow hot. My tongue pressed against the inside of my cheek and my arms awkwardly dangle to the side of me. No words come to mind, but my lips open and close, making not one sound. Anita brows narrow, watching me as if something was crawling in the middle of my face.

"Are you okay?" She questioned with concern. Both her hands come towards me, making contact with my arms. I slightly flinch, but notices shes only trying to help me from falling.

"Yeah, I just - really wanted a drink," I lie.

Anita removed her hands, and jabs them into her lavender colored coat pockets. Strands of honey blond hair fall onto her face, escaping from beneath her tea hat ( Tea Hat is not an actual tea cup on top of a hat by the way ). The rest of her curly hair is pulled back into a low ponytail. Her coat is only half button up, showing the top part of her pink dress which held nothing but stains of alcohol and ketchup.

"What happened?" I questioned.

Anita swiftly looks down at her dress. After attempting to button up the rest of her coat, she looks back up at me with embarrassment. "Some fellow thought it would be funny to throw alcohol on me....the ketchup was my fault...."

"Why would he do that?!" I exclaim.

"Look at me," Anita says with a chuckle and smile. I look at her with a blank stare. Misunderstanding her completely. She was beyond beautiful, no sane man would pour alcohol on such beauty.

"Im sorry, I - I don't get it."

"I'm half negro. I'm a bloody abomination. The only reason why I work at this joint is because the owner felt pity for me. I mean, do you see any other browned skinned people walking around in these parts?"

Anita paused. Our eyes lock yet again, but this time I dare not to pull away. I could tell she was awaiting for me to agree. I had forgotten that most people still held hatred for those who have different skin tones or ethnic backgrounds. You would think everyone would be open minded in the 50s, but there are still so many who think African Americans are at fault at everything.

"I don't think that way," I simply say, "If I did. I wouldn't be talking to you now."

A smile crawls upon her face, causing my cheeks to flush a deep red. I feel accomplished with my words, confident now that she knew there was no true hatred inside of my heart.

"I'm Anita by the way, most call me Nita," She says while holding out her hand towards me to shake. Without hesitation, I take her hand and shake it firmly, returning a goofy smile.

"Oliver. Oliver Thredson."

Midnight was slowly rolling in. The night air began to feel like ice against my bare hands. I ignore it. Enjoying the moments Anita gazed at me with her stunning blue eyes. The sound of our footsteps echoed into the space around us. While our murmured talk and laughter filled my heart with confidence and desire. Never in my life had I have so much fun with one person.

In the orphanage, most didn't want to be my friends. Not only did the kids around me think I was too stupid to be around, my teachers thought the same. The cycle continued once I left my hometown and moved here to start my days in college. All of my life I felt alone. Unwanted. Now, I felt like I could have a chance.

"Oliver," Anita says to me, as we stood before her home. My eyes glisten from behind my glasses as my thin lips crack into a small smile.

Anita did not smile back, nor did she hold that playful expression upon her face any longer. Her face held nothing but conflict and confusion. Like, something horrible inside of her head began to play without any warning.

"Your eyes," Anita began. "They are so dark, so mysterious.....so sad. Why?"

I couldn't help but to feel taken aback by her question. This whole time she must have been studying me, figuring me out like I was a some type of puzzle. Was my eyes really pleading for help? I lick my chapped lip as my shoulders shrug ever so slightly. If anything, I did not want to answer this question. Not one bit. Telling her my pitiful past would not only be horrid for her to listen to, but difficult for me to tell.

"I'd rather not say. Maybe next time. I - I mean, if I see you again. I mean if you want to see me again..."

"Oliver!" Anita took my hand into her own, catching me by surprise. Her soft skin against mine felt amazing. Her thumb glides against my knuckles as my eyes widen at our hands. Touching. Actually touching. My heart inside wants to pop out of my chest. This feeling I felt inside just tingled with every inch of my skin.

"Oliver. It is safe to say that you will see me again." Anita's voice pulls me from out of my thoughts. I only nod, not wanting to ruin this moment with my pathetic words. Her hand slides from under my grip, she waves good bye, and pushes herself into her home.

Oh, how Matt was wrong about her.
Matt was wrong about everything.

****

NOTE
This chapter may be taken down in the future to make changes. It was rushed, so I apologize if it is sloppy or badly written.
Thank you for taking your time out to read it!
— Talesofthebeyond.