Clinomaniac

o n e | Sunday Finest

It was a night full of 'Oh Well's rather than 'What if's. I've raised alot of red flags and do not's from a single night yet I wouldn't change a single thing from that very moment I met him.

I entered the club trying to be nonchalant as possible- not letting anyone see how I don't fit the picture well because the dancing streaks of light with the loud bass of the music didn't really make the cut for me. I was more of the comfort zone fan, a homebody.

And what was I doing in a place for wild fun?

Well, for one, it was one of those nights I just couldn't give another fuck to life as it keeps pushing me to the edge. Originally, I was a homebody but I yearn for that adventure out there- the sights and stories in different places.

Maybe I was a closet adrenaline junky?

Whatever the case was, I swayed my hips and let myself loose as Sunday Finest rang the whole place. I didn't knew what I drank before dancing that time. Heck, I didn't knew that I needed alcohol courage that time, but whatever the hell I drank gave the right amount of 'fuck that'.

What for? The stares of other people to me. I wasn't really that conceited but I felt the burning stares of other people partying inside the club. It honestly made me raise a couple of thoughts like, 'Was I a horrible sight?' 'Am I disturbing them?' 'Or was I shakin' it right?' But in the end I couldn't really care less of what they were thinking that night.

And then I felt him.

I felt him before he touched me that night. I was busy dancing the night but I felt his heat at my back. His strong and calloused hands snaked at my waist confidently, as if he owned me. Then came his heated breathing at my neck, his whisky mixed minty breath made its presence known as he spoke to me.

"Hey"

One word, one syllable, one greeting. But damn, was that voice hotter than hot. He greeted me in a low husky timbre and it made me feel the urge to whisk myself to face him. A devilish smile made it's way to my bloody red lips.

"Hi"

I said to him after turning myself to face him. We were dancing in to the beat but none of us let each other's gaze drift apart. My chocolatey orbs mashing with his steely gray spheres, making me gasp inwardly at the beautiful sight.

He's gorgeous.

I'd love to say he was sex on feet as he was that sexy, but I felt like words cannot describe him more than ever. I was actually at loss for words when my plain brown eyes greeted his steel gray ones. And at that time, I never actually knew that this gray eyed man was my undoing.

But he was. He still is.

After swaying each other at the beat of the music, one thing led to another then what gazing to each other's eyes became a couple of squeezes, heated kisses and slow but really possessive bitings, I pulled away from him, winked at him before leaving him with blue balls. Ha. I was a vixen tonight, but not a spent one. I reached for the bar, wanting some more alcohol in my system.

"What will it be?" My friend Rick from art class, the bartender, asked me amused. He saw me played my way with the gray eyed hunk didn't he?

"Whatever fits me, Rick" I grinned at him mischievously before checking the gray eyed man again before returning my eyes to Rick again. He laughed and set himself to work.

When the time he finishes my drink, Mr. Hot-shot sat next to me, still observing me like I was some rare specie. In the liberated life in the western countries, I'm practically a UFO so I'm not really shocked.

Twenty-two and a virgin. Whoopty-doo.

I mean, so what right? I'm beautiful anyways. I need no man. Damn I'm so single.

I took a swig of my drink, shutting my eyes tight as the bitterness swarmed my tongue. Damn that was some good shit. I then let out a small 'whoo' out of spur, making Hot-shot chuckle. I turned to him with raised eyebrows.

"What?"

"You're not from here are you?" He asked, smiling softly.

I hummed a response as a yes before asking warily "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, since everyone knows who's who in this club. And you're practically some rainbow in our eyes." He chuckled as he diverted his gaze from me to the crowd slowly "Got everyone looking at you curious and maybe a little... heated. Can't blame them, you're something after all"

"Really?"

"Damn right, you got the boys some raging hard ons and you don't even know it."

I laughed. Really? Me? That's got to be some horse shit. Especially when my brother hears about this. He'd laugh his ass off. "I'll take that as a compliment?"

"You better" he winks at me. "But honestly, you're hot and all, yet somehow you don't fit this picture" he gestures the place.

I'm not offended, as that may sound offensive to others, because he's right. I don't because I'd prefer quiet and solitary with myself away from the crowd. I raise my eyebrows again at him curiously. "Oh? Where do you picture me best then?" I quipped, "at your bed?"

He laughed then he shook his head "a guy can dream right?" He said with a grin.

Oh gosh, he's so cute.

"Yeah, in dreamland." I retort sassily making both of us chuckle.

"But seriously, no. You fit somewhere... hmm warm" he closed his eyes as if he's thinking of something real hard "like in warm comfy blankets with pillows by the fire place in a log cabin"

"Oh?"

"Yeah... you're there... holding your phone... reading something. Your eyes shifting from the top of the screen slowly down to the end" he said lowly as if he was muttering words to himself, but I hear him.

I hear him.

"You seem relaxed and there's a whiff of cocoa in the air with the rain drizzling outside. That..." he then flutters his eyes open and I inaudibly gasp. His eyes where so dilated as if he could never let go of the mental picture he conjured up for me. As if he doesn't want to let it go. "Is your picture"

"Yeah?" I say breathlessly.

"Yeah..." he smiles at me softly again. We stared at each other more before I heard him again, almost inaudible- but I heard him say it.

"Beautiful"