Ariana Imagines

#48: LA Fights

I leaned back as I let a couple pass by me to get to their seats and I scoffed at them. I looked at the audience mostly, not the two grown men hitting eachother with gloves on. It was suprising how the blood didn't even interest me. The front rows were the best to look at, sweat hitting them or their faces when blood gushes out of a scar. It was when I saw her it really interested me. She had red lips, a cigarette in her hand and nice tan legs. I remembered her from somewhere, the announcer. It's one of the guy's wife. She looked good, too good for a woman watching her husband get his face beaten.

I kept watching her and her husband in the ring. He got punched bad, blank. Body punched, blank. Upper cut, blank. He bled out his nose, blank. They stopped it, blank. He's fine, blank. She wasn't that far. She's definetly older than me, but not too much. I knew she probably just wanted money, that's not what I have. But I can give her lots of fun. I shake my head, I look at her again and she's gone. My eyes widen and I get out of my seat. I walk to the hot dog stand, I go to the restrooms, I go to the drunks, I go to the hobos, I stop at the cop car, I go to the bar, I go to her. I sat next to her and we both looked at eachother. "Aren't you a little too young to be at a bar?" she asks. "Can I have a cigarette?" I say looking at her pack. She nods and hands one to me, I put it between my lips. "Thanks." I mumble out she pulls out a lighter and lights it.

"What's your name?" I ask puffing out the smoke. She looks at me in shock and disbelief, "You don't know who I am?" I nod. "Ariana." she says not meeting with my eyes. "Ariana..?" she chuckles "Grande. Ariana Grande." I nod. "Nice, is that your husband fighting?" I ask looking at the screen of the two men. She nods throwing her hair back, "Dumb isn't it?" she keeps her eyes on the screen. "Hmm?" I ask scanning her gorgeous features.

"Two men bleeding out with gloves on, it's so entertaining. They get so much money for getting their face beat up, not bad huh?" she says sarcastically. I chuckle and our eyes connect and thoughts flow. She's wondering too, thinking if we could do it or if she should kiss me. Her eyes looked at my lips than back to my crying eyes from the smoke. "How old are you?" I ask talking fast. "24." she answers quickly after. "Fuck." I whisper curse I put my hand on my head. "This might be weird but I want you." I state. "I want you too." she answers and my eyes widen. "O.K. Let's go?" she nods.

  I saw her on the sidelines of the televised fights. She had toasted tan long legs curling up to her sweet center. She was beautiful. Her husband was probably getting his nose broken, she stood tough and blank with a cigarette. I wanted her still she was older and married.