// The request was aphrodisiacs, but of course I had to take it too far. Warnings for: Dub-Con.
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It was hot, and the ice in my drink had melted, though I wasn't paying it much attention. The bar wasn't too busy, but it was full enough, everyone coming inside to listen to him play. He had came inside thirty minutes ago, propping the door open with his guitar case, and sitting himself down on the sad, little stage in the center. His music bled out through the open door, and into the streets, inviting people Inside the bar to listen to him. His melody seemed to liven the place, and the little stage looked more in place with him on it. I was entranced by the movement of his fingers, staring openly as they suddenly picked up in pace.
I brought myself to look from his hands, and at his face, suprised to find that he was already looking at me. A smile spread accross his face as our eyes met, and he winked, before sinking into an even more fast paced tune. His eyes dropped down to his guitar, concentrating on the movement of his fingers, and when he looked up again, I had moved from my spot at the bar. It was satisfying to watch him search the small crowd to find me, and I couldn't help but smile a bit when he finally did find me again. I hadn't moved on my own, pulled by my arm, to dance with a pretty girl. She had hair pulled out of her face, and painted lips that were turned up in a smile. She spoke to me in fast Spanish, so I couldn't respond to her, but she seemed to understand, her smile never wavering as she danced closer to me.
I had lost interest in the guitar, my attention on this girl and how she had whispered, "María." into my ear.
"Lovino." I whispered back, and she giggled, making me smile.
I hadn't realized that the music had stopped until the man who had been playing stepped into my line of vision, his guitar on his back by a leather strap. My smile was wiped from my face as he took María's hand and told her something in Spanish, to which she nodded in understanding, though she eyed me strangely. Then, she left us.
I was angry, but I didn't get the chance to open my mouth before he was speaking again, introducing himself to me with the same wide smile that he had flashed on the stage. He took my hand, and began to try and speak to me, his rapid speech making my head spin. He seemed to notice that I was struggling, for he closed his mouth, and dropped my hand a bit sheepishly.
"¿Puedes hablar español?"He asked, speaking more slowly now.
My face flushed slightly, and I shook my head. He nodded, and smiled amusedly at me.
"Italian." I said, and my eyes mimicked the sudden widening of his own.
"So I will get to speak to you afterall!" He exclaimed, and my heart jumped a bit. I had no trouble understanding his Italian, even with his accent.
I moved my hand behind my back when he reached for it again, and he recoiled immediately. I felt bad, but this was already a bad situation for me. I wasn't supposed to be here, and I damn sure wasn't trying to get friendly with the locals. My face was hot, and in an attempt to redeem myself, I snatched up his hand, and led him back over to the bar. He seemed suprised, but also pleased. He had a short conversation with the bartender, which I assumed ended with the ordering of two drinks.
"Can I ask you some questions?" He asked, sliding me my drink. I shrugged, and accepted the glass. "Let's start with your name."
"Lovino," I said, and a prickle went up my spine at the regrettable action. I would be against giving my name to a stranger in a foreign country, usually.
"Fitting. I like that," He said, and I stared into my glass. If he was trying to pick me up, I wish he wouldn't try and get to know me first.
"Now, tell me yours," I instructed, fully intent on getting this part over with.
