Carmen - H.S

Chapter 14

wtf i updated??? ? well this is boring but i do introduce someone who's vurry dear to my heart. but he won't be coming back again :(. pls vote & comment :)))

Sunday evening crawled in with a whimper, meekly announcing that it had arrived. Carmen found herself surprised that the day had come so quickly. She was speeding through life precariously, unable to stop and tripping over the smallest of shocks that were scattered across her path. Sunday had come much too quickly for her liking.

She had the entire day to herself, at least until the gala at seven. Normally, she wholeheartedly enjoyed attending these events in elegant gowns and laughing coquettishly until her delicate throat was sore. It was an odd shift from the rough grittiness of Daniel's persona, but not an unwelcome one. She could become alive on those gleaming, sparkling nights.

But today, she was exhausted. Her bones felt too large for her petite body, her movements sluggish and awkward. Usually, Carmen strived to be the epitome of grace and collection, but now, she wanted to slump to the ground and sleep for three long years, regardless of how messy she'd look.

The past week had been exhausting, rushing here and there to places she could never recall afterwards. Her days were blurry, smudged by the spiteful fingers of time. Was she even living her life? Or was she only watching it rush past her weakening eyes?

She needed to do something, anything to break this endless monotony. Get drunk at eleven thirty in the morning, find a stranger and fuck him in a bathroom stall, dash through the grimy city streets and scream at random passerby. Maybe even all three. Just something a bit insane.

Carmen shook out her wavy, dark locks and stood up straight. Her simple attire consisting of faded, cut off shorts and some obscure band t-shirt was perfect for the occasion. Feeling somewhat rejuvenated by her newfound resolve, she skipped over to her massive closet as energetically as she could.

The space felt even more cavernous than usual. Lucy was gone, off gallivanting with that guy she'd met at her job interview. Carmen had met him once, and that was enough. He was, to put it quite simply, a douchebag. And she had made sure Lucy knew exactly what she thought of him.

At first, Lucy had blushed bright red, in that flustered way she did whenever Carmen snatched her respect out of her hands and stomped on it, grinding her heels. But then something had shifted. She'd stood up infinitesimally taller and her eyes had taken on a steely, unfamiliar glint.

"I-I don't care, Carmen," she'd stated shakily. "It's my life, not yours."

Carmen had glowered at her fiercely, anger burning brightly in her constricting chest. "Let's see if you'll be saying that when he knocks you up and leaves."

Then she'd stalked out, leaving an almost tangible trail of fury behind her.

It was strange. She'd felt something utterly foreign in that moment. Lucy had stood up to her, albeit not very confidently, but still. For an instant, the piercing darkness within her soul had vanished and been replaced. Not by any glowing luminescence. No, instead by a flat gray, a shade of in between, a weighty numbness. Nothing.

It was as if part of her soul had been dulled by Lucy's undeniably weak assertion of dominance. This - her prickly personality, her chilly demeanor, her aura of midnight - it wasn't just an aspect of her. It was her. It was all she had, and she couldn't just let it slip away like grains of sand through a chubby child's fingers.

Shaking off the crushing thoughts, she bent over and pawed through her vast collection of shoes until she located a pair of strappy wedges. Slipping them on, along with her big sunglasses, she strolled out the door and tried to take on the appearance of someone who found no troubles in this tumultuous world.

Luckily, the trip to the bar was only a short little jaunt. She felt somewhat powerful as the eyes of men she passed by traversed her body. She soaked up their intrigue and transmuted it into confidence. Lucy didn't matter, Ron didn't matter, not even she mattered. It was only the big, wide world and the throbbing passions that reverberated throughout every corner. The earth was alive and thriving, so she had to be too.

She sauntered up to the bar and could feel eyes flickering to her every now and then, like little flashes of heat. And of course she commanded attention. She was a gorgeous young celebrity swirling in popularity. The world was her oyster, and she was the glistening pearl.

She ordered a drink in a high clear voice that cut through the din of the crowd. The bartender gave her a smile that seemed like it should've been a sigh instead and turned to fulfill her request.

The second she took a sip of her second drink, a tall young man made his way over to her and seated himself on the adjacent stool. At first, there were no words exchanged between them. Carmen was waiting for him to speak, knowing full well that it gave her the advantage.

"Are you Carmen Willows?"

She quickly picked up on his Irish accent and took her time answering. After taking another gulp of liquor and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked up at him through her curled lashes and eyed him coolly.

"Depends who's asking." She kept an air of indifference slung across her shoulders, cloaking her and giving her an untouchable sort of beauty.

He leaned in ever so slightly and inspected her face carefully. She stared back, unblinking, not minding their proximity.

"It is you!" he exclaimed triumphantly. He broke out into a wide, pleasant grin that seemed at home on his lips.

"You got me," she said with a small, humorless smile. She was waiting to see where this would go before she could show any trace of warmth, before she could draw him in and make him hers.

"What's a big star like you doing here?" He scratched the back of his head and ran a hand through his blonde hair. She could see his dark roots showing and decided that she liked it. It made him look... endearing.

"Getting drunk." She took another large swallow as if to give weight to her words.

He chuckled a bit more than her statement deserved. "Well, that makes sense."

Another pause. "My name's Niall."

"Cute name," she chirped almost condescendingly.

"Thanks." After grinning once more, he exhaled slowly and moved imperceptibly closer.

"I didn't think you'd look so pretty in person."

She looked at him just long enough to make him nervous before replying. "That's so sweet." She ducked her head down as if a bashful blush was coating her pale cheeks.

Niall blinked slowly, and she caught a glimpse of his bleary eyes. He slid a finger under her lowered chin and raised it until he could look into her breathtaking eyes. "You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." The boy had to be drunk out of his mind, though his words were clear.

Carmen resisted the urge to snort and smiled at him winningly. "That's what they all say," she giggled. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, blood roaring in her ears, the hushed excitement of the bar filling her soul.

"But I really mean it," he said earnestly.

Suddenly, Carmen was tired of this familiar back and forth. What was the point of playing with him, teasing him, flirting until he was putty in her grip? She knew exactly how this would end, especially with the stench of alcohol coating his breath. And besides, she could tell he was already entranced by the mesmerizing glow that seemed to pulsate from her at will. Without breaking eye contact, she grabbed her drink and downed the remnants in one swift mouthful.

Then, taking him utterly by surprise, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. His hands slid up her arms almost immediately, brushing her soft skin and the goosebumps that had started to form. Somehow, the chatter in the room seemed to increase in volume, enveloping them, adding cushion to their embrace. His lips were soft, too much so, but she didn't mind. She would never taste them again after today.