Not more than strangers✔️

knowing you longer

"And if the sky should ever die.
We'd make our own light,
You and I."
~John Mark Green

————

The bar She doesn't remember much about what happened. But somewhere along the fifth or sixth glass she lost any sense of conviction or conscience.

Her lips feel swollen, her skin burned a thousand degrees hotter and her body tingled. Every time she thought deeply, her mind barricaded her memories behind cotton candy, it was foggy and useless to know what happened before the clock struck ten.

She isn't even supposed to be here— matter of fact this late. The sun was still supposed to be out, she'd be in the store throwing clothes she wanted into the basket while she hummed the song that blared over the speakers.

The only thing she could recall was tipping her head multiple times after laughing at what the bar tender said. Liquid fire wasn't so bad when you had company.

He kept a light conversation with her, touched her hand innocently when her attention deviated, even drank a couple of beers to keep him going.

She swayed, as she sat at a table, her eyes never leaving Pierce who struggled to pack up and clean.

"You are staring." His voice comes out slower than intended and she shrugs.

"You didn't have a problem with that this morning."

He turns slightly at the quip of her voice and a lopsided smile plagues his lips. "Look at you taking the initiative to flirt with me. I'm rubbing off on you."

Another time she'd call him out on his cockiness but she'd rather win whatever this was. "In more ways than one."

He drops the broom in his hands and lunges for her. Her laugh is absolutely contagious and he finds himself biting his lip to suppress his own. "What the hell." He laughs.

Her stomach churns as she picks up the faint scent of coffee and alcohol on his skin. He held her shoulders as they watched each other fondly.

She can't register the heated look he keeps sending her way and wonders if she's far behind. Her brain goes haywire when he leans in to taste the remnants of alcohol on her lips. She forgets to breathe and stars dance in her vision.

They've just met but she finds the fluttering in her stomach and chest disturbing. Her infatuation is scary, it shakes her resolve and makes her reckless— him and the alcohol.

His hands squeezes her waist gently as he deepens the kiss. She smells so much like chocolate amidst cigars and tastes like liquor and he couldn't come close to saying something about the softness of her skin under his fingertips.

Funmi's eyes remained shut as they pull apart, steadying their breathing. If she'd opened her eyes, he'd lose logical thinking and lean in again, marking her skin with purple patches.

"It's getting late. Time does fly when you're a little off the bar." He rubs his eyes, trying to regain focus.

"I don't want to go yet." She held onto his shoulders tightly. "Maybe there's another act coming up." She flips her excuse once more hoping to buy her enough time.