Melted

Part II

Breath frozen. Wisps of mist escaping from my throat. Clouds like stressful day at work, or life. Thin coat of heart beats not having enough space to breathe. It's hard to believe that there is beauty in haze. That it is a collection of crystals floating in perfect symmetry, which branded by some random scientists as beauty.

They probably just wanna make their ugly ass feel better. Symmetry isn't beautiful: a nasty ass face is still a nasty ass face even if both sides look the same.

After fifteen minutes of cold nibbling at my extremities and already irritated patience, a black car finally drives up to the edge of the pavement. I wrap my hand around the car handle and pull it open, quickly plopping my body onto the velvet chair, waiting until the warmth of the car thawed my body. Little needles engorge the blood vessels under the skin of my fingertips, swelling them. My chest falls slowly as I exhale the cold in my lungs.

"So are you going to say hello, or was the 'come pick your lonely ass up on the sidewalk the middle of the night' too romantic for you"

The snark question snatched me out of my thoughts and into self defense mechanism #253: smart-ass comeback.

"Yeah, 'cause waiting outside in below-freezing weather for fifteen minutes got me feeling them butterflies. Y'all country folk sure know how to pull the heart strings of a city boy" I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I turn to face him.

As I turn he grazes his hands on my cheek. His fingers, long and thin, like branches dipped in marble; he always tells me that he plays the piano. He smiles, ivory canines slightly pointed. Eyes in the key of hazel. Body mashed Japanese mother European father, his features are measured by intensity. The way he flowed in between the symphonies of his origins confused me. Structure Greek god carved by Japanese goddess. He was the first time I didn't understand the difference between major and minor.

"At least, your face is red" he says, a laugh following his response.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I exclaimed slowly getting annoyed.

"It's probably the closest imma' get to making you blush." His tongue in between his teeth.

"You right" I say biting a smile.

"That's rude, to be honest I think guys with red noses are cute, I heard they hella good in bed."

"Boi, yo' ass needs to shut up." A light hearted laugh decorates the ending. "That's all you think about, huh, sex and pleasing people. It's okay though I ain't complai-."

He grabs my shirt, wrinkling it into a ball in his fist, and jerks me toward him. His breath, hot on my neck, singes an a hidden burn. My heart hastily beats against my rib cage, to small for it to enlarge. Inflating into my throat.

One one-thousand.

"Isn't this want you wanted?" He slides his hand under my shirt.

Two one-thousand.

"Last time I did anything remotely romantic for you, I got a 'fuck off' and a door to the nose." He fits his hand into the small of my back, trailing my spine.

Three one-thousand.

He begins to trace my jawline with his tongue. "You know that really hurt right?" He slowly closes his jaw on my neck.

"Ya-ya know what, I changed my mind this week, plus you know what is happening right now is gonna cost your horny ass. Whew, you almost got me excited." I utter, slowly trying to distancing myself, masking the slight vibration surging through me.

"Almost? I never can get the last laugh can I? Still, you low key real cute for a 17 year old" he smiles, eyes observing my face.

Looking for a trace of blood grazing the tips of my skin, or the wrinkle he always tells me I make when I'm hiding a smile. I am lab specimen labeled ego inflator. He wants me as accessory, luxury, because under the table transactions make great over the table conversation. He tells me that I'm am only his, only because I told him I only want me in his thoughts. He acts like I can't see his texts to his friends. Then again, I told him while he was in my mouth and I was in his jaws. Nobody believes fantasies, except probably me.

"Let's just go by that Italian restaurant you own, I'm feelin' a lil like pizza" I mock, the corners of my lips slightly turned. As he continues to linger above me, my lips unfold. "You needa' stop looking at me like that, and boi what I tell you about calling me-"

He laughs almost as if he was coughing, abruptly, loud and uncontrolled. He drops down into his chair, his laughter chiming with is body. "Yo' too much. What happen' to the guy that just wanted to go on a date? Plus you about to go to a traditional Italian restaurant for pizza. You betta go somewhere with that. Just come with me to the hotel room, we'll get real Italian up in there" he says still giggling.

"Boi what does that even mean. You was all about it last week, the fuck. You know what it doesn't matter, but for real, come on babe let's just go, talk and eat for a lil bit, and maybe..." I lick my front teeth. "I'll swallow for free"