Box of short stories with metal

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A man with a t-shirt where some weird wyet beautiful kind of ketchup spuirts is printed hovers over me, hugging me. How in the name of schorle could that happen? Did I seduce him? Went I unconscious and he just took me somewhere? Did he even poison anything I drank to abuse me? I don't know, but the atmosphere doesn't feel this dark. He goes off me and lays down next to me, raising his hand.

"Heh........ It's weird...."

"Where am I? Who are you?"

I suddenly interrupt the mans dreamy and happy looking mood. Well,I. Want. Answers.

"You're so funny."

He says in an ironic tone.

He doesn't. believe me? Did I lose memories or something?

"Uhm, no? Tell me immediately where I am! "

" This is your flat? And you brought me here from the concert?"

I can tell that he's lying. I'd remember my own flat! And there is no way I would ever bring a stranger home, especially not a man!

"Huh!? I'm afraid I can't remember anything..."

I say in a sarcastic tone. Also, concerts? I never was in a concert. Of course I'd like to, but I really don't want to make my mother more I'll than she already is. I'm sure she'd die out of worriness.

"You will remember. Maybe you're too drunk."

"Huh!? Me and drunk? The most alcohol I drank was a bottle of beer! Nothing more!"

He places his still raised hand onto my shoulder, moving right over my chest while he humms a bit.

"What are you.... doing....."

His hand really feels good there.

"Reminding you..... What, no, this was reflexively..."

"Stay."

I really like this feeling. It gives me a kind of warmth I rarely felt before. I almost feel like I'm l- nope, this is impossible. He's a stranger. There's no way to like him like that if I never saw him before. Wait, what did he say? Concert? Maybe... NO! I am not a concert hooker!

He takes off his hand of me anyways, but I quickly grab it's wrist with my right hand.

He then turns to me, but I can't really see his face from my wide-field perspective.

Probably he has a 'What in the hell are you doing ' face.

"Uhmmm.... Like I said, this was reflexively. Also you were kidding the whole time."

"I don't know you!?"

I still don't let go of his wrist. Because it remembers me of something...

"Then why should I stay, if you don't know me???"

"The memories are flooding from your wrist...."

I reflexively place my other hand on the back of his hand and trace it over my chin, as if it would be a promise.....

Of what....

Oh. I remember a something. Those are only a few fragments, but now I know who he is.

Yeah.... a death metal concert..... Wanted to know new bands..... The guy beating with someone.

"I remember....."

I whisper dreamily as I turn to him and smile a bit.

"..... Let go."