Veronica [Zarry]

how she had wings

"Why so shy?"

I chuckle, twirling her around slowly.

"Everyone else here has shape and I look like a damn ironing board. Sometimes I get insecure," her face flushes and she looks down at the floor. "That's all."

She's a damn soft, giggly mess as I kiss her, hands on her waist and it doesn't matter if she puts on a show or not because I've already won.

Her heels look so uncomfortable I help her up onto stage. She's so adorable, getting flustered as I guide her, hand on the small of her back.

"Loretta already would have killed me, I'm supposed to cover my tattoos with makeup but I was running late."

Everything is so smooth, the way her ankle hooks, left hand under her right as she starts to swing.

It's mesmerising, watching her up there in her element. It's focus and concentration and getting comfortable, letting loose as she drops one hand, stretches in out like she's flying.

Maybe she is because she closes her eyes and I swear I can see wings.

For some reason I was expecting something sexual, something raunchy. It's sensual but that's completely different.

It looks like empowerment, like she wouldn't do this to please a man but only for herself, to prove that her body is art, that it can bend and sway in astoundingly beautiful ways.

Her ankles hook around the pole and my heart nearly leaps from my chest because for a split second she's using no hands and she's slipping down the pole but she is so strong, grabbing back on in an instant, legs extended as she does a split.

I'm trying to fathom how that's even physically possible when my heart jumps again. She drops dangerously low to the stage, spinning a few times, hair wild as she crunches her flat stomach to pull back up.

It's art. Everything I thought about pole dancing has been inverted, flipped completely upside down and I'm crushed when she stops, when she crouches onto her knees, thighs pressed tight around the pole.

Her body moves up, one hand on the pole before she spins back down like a corkscrew. I'm so unbelievably dizzy, eyes trying to keep up with the movement of her body.

She starts to grind against the metal bar, hips moving so rhythmically I join her, place my hands on her tiny waist.

The pole is abandoned as she turns in my arms. I wrap her up, kiss her warm, bare shoulder as the strap of her bra slides down her skin.

"That was so beautiful," I whisper, still in awe. "You're so beautiful."

There's a thin sheen of sweat on her tan skin, dark ink of her tattoos glistening and I've never been so turned on in my life.

"Only the best for you," she flashes a dazzling smile, tugging me off the stage. She pushes me gently onto the worn leather couch, straddles my lap. "I like you," she giggles, tapping my nose.

"That's good," I chuckle, knuckles grazing her jaw. "Do they not let you dance because you're so much better than the other girls?"

"Stop," she blushes. "That isn't why. I used to dance-"

She trails off, voice hitching and she blinks back tears.

"Did something happen?"

Her head is on my shoulder and my arms envelope her.

"Veronica, did someone hurt you?"

"Not like that, it was stupid of me," she mumbles. "To think someone would actually want me when I...it doesn't matter."

"No, it does matter. You matter," I assure, wiping her tears.

"Help me clean," she sniffles. "I'm supposed to mop."

"Fuck that, I'll mop babe."

She changes back into her clothes, santitizes the bar and soaks all the nozzles before sweeping up and I feel bad for her, being stuck here so late doing all the cleaning.

We clean every table and wash every glass until everything is sparkling. I glance down at my watch. It's an ungodly hour and she's spent, laying her head on my lap as I sit back down on the couch.

"Thank you for seeing me differently Harry."

"You are different," I smile, tracing the outline of her lips. "When you danced, I felt it. I really can't explain it but you created a mood and it was magical."

Her eyelids flutter closed and for the second time tonight, I'm convinced she's an angel.

We could stay like this forever but she stirs, stretching as she yawns and tells me she has to go home.

"You can come home with me."

"Thanks for the offer but I really can't."

She brushes herself off and attempts to smooth down her hair.

"It was very kind of you Harry. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Not here, I can take you out somewhere nice, anywhere but here babe."

"Maybe," she smiles and I put my number in her phone.

"Here," I dig out some cash and she looks at it perplexed.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Anything you want," I chuckle and her fingers flick through the bills, counting the change.

"I can't accept this," her eyes go wide. "This is way too much money, I didn't do anything to deserve this."

"You do deserve it, you work your ass off around here to be treated like shit by everyone. All the girls envy you. They're jealous of you Veronica, don't you see that?"

"I really should be going. I'm exhausted. Please don't worry about the money."

She gives it all back, leaves me standing there stunned. I chase after her, locking the door behind me but she gets in her car, revs the engine and leaves me behind in the dust.

"What just happened," I mutter to myself.

When I close my eyes I see her up on stage, soft golden eyes and smooth tan skin. She's a vision, body arching, mouth parting as I move to kiss her.

Something tickles my fingertips and I open my eyes.

Feathers.

She's radiant and there's a warm glow outlining her body.

"You have wings," I whisper, cupping her face in my hands.

"I know Harry, give me a reason to fly."