Never In Control

I could be a killer

I could be a killer

Damian's POV

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Powerful

Destructive

Conceited

A few words most people use to describe me. But really how could anyone know me just by reading or looking at me. How could they know my thoughts, my dreams, my intentions? They could never know just from my image. One thing they did get right is that I am a dangerous man in many ways and for that reason, I don't let anyone get too close.

It was midnight at some random club.

Why was I here?

I questioned myself and for a split second, I forgot my sorrows, for a slipt second I forgot all that happened. Once it all came back to me I trudged my way through the crowd towards the bar.

I shift my gaze forward to the barmaid struggling to blend everyone's drinks. The barmaid was a young woman who appeared to be uncomfortable in her getup. Her hair was as black as a night sky being worn in loose curls stopping at her shoulders. Her lips were luscious and full. They were an unnatural reddish-pink color, but it didn't appear to be lipstick. The girl's eyes were a brownish color they were big like they were curious even if she looked a little disinterested. Her skin was hidden by the bars dim lights but I could see a hint of a golden.

She had curves there was no doubt about that. She was thick, but she wouldn't be considered fat in my books she had just enough.

The night seemed like a daze everything I did was surrounded by the mysterious girl's presence. I felt a pull to be drawn to her, to not leave her side under any circumstance. Some might call this love, at first sight, I call this one too many drinks in a bar full of indecent girls. The difference is, is that I'm looking at the innocent girl that didn't belong here instead of the party animals that were looking for a night of fun.

"Would you like something else to drink sir," a soft voice questioned. It didn't fit this location the sweetness in her voice or the purity. My eyes shifted to her's, they were observing my actions; cautious of my next move.

"No. I think I've had enough for tonight." I muttered as I pushed myself off the barstool. "Here's your tip," I said looking through my wallet slapping down a bill not even looking at what I had given her.

I stumbled to the door not looking back. My car was parked right in front of me just waiting for me to hop in and drive, but I was contemplating whether to drive or not it may not be the best choice being tipsy and all. I swung my car door open ready to get in stopping to the sound of yells growing louder behind me.

"Sir! Sir, please wait,"

My head rose up to detect the owner of the voice only to see the bartender trying to run to me in her high-heel boots. It was a sight to see; her struggling to not fall. I waited for her to come before me seeing her almost trip she fell into my arms. It was a great feeling her in my arms I didn't want the warmth radiating from her to leave my skin.

"Yes, Ms. is there anything wrong?"

"The tip you gave me was too much I can't take this." She said holding her hands out showing a hundred dollar tip.

"No, I think that's what you deserve."

"No one in their right mind would give a tip like this to a bartender who barely did anything."

"Do I look like someone who cares? just take the money."

Her facial expressions changed drastically from shy to furious.