Black Beauty (Z.A. Love Story// Explicit)

2// Baby Faced Angel

He asked me the things people were supposed to know about one another. Nothing too intrusive or sensitive. It wouldn't have made sense to anyways, or at least not yet, after all, I just met this boy.

Our ages, hobbies, what we loved, and vague synopsis' of our lives. We were both twenty one fortunately.

"What's your number?" he asked, as I stood outside of his car with the door open in the driveway of my apartment. I gave it to him. He knew I would. He smiled at me, then bit his lips and leaned back. He blended in with the darkness, and for the first time it hit me; he was sexy. He drove away, content, knowing I would text him and I knew I would too.

God, he was enigmatic.

I ran inside the apartment after that, the butterflies like a tornado in me. I slammed the door shut, and the sound of Nico's voice began playing as I played Sunday Morning in the room. I leaned against the wall.

Two days then passed after that. He was the only things I could thing about. It had been such a long time since that happened, and how I was going to love every moment of it.

I pretended to panic to myself, playing pretend, rolling myself on the bed, smelling like perfume, painting my nails, exclaiming, "Dear god, I'm catching feelings for once! Please help me to stop thinking about him!" I said, giggling. To stop thinking about him was the last, last thing I wanted. His face lingered in my brain. That perfect, round, soft face.

$$$

The blue sunset came as it always did, and after I had gone shopping at the Whole Foods near the hill, I came back only to be caught again by loneliness.

I sighed.

Alone again. As always. As it has been for the past couple years.

I liked the bathroom. Everything about it felt perfect. The bathtub was against the wall with the small, outward-opening window, the toilet next to the sink, and a small, miniature light above the mirror.

I applied my purple lipstick, and black eyeshadow in peace. When I wore makeup, it felt like my barrier my perfect mask to hide behind. I never left the house without it, or my sunglasses. I felt hidden away and beautiful.

$$$

The air smelled of roses, and the sweet smell of damp grass and asphalt. The air was cool, and dew was embedded onto the leaves of the hedges, and white rose petals.

My car was covered in drops of water as I approached it. I got in and lit another cigarette.

The truth was I only went to the store to buy alcohol (besides the groceries I had only just gotten). A bottle of whiskey, and a bottle of Cherry Brandy.

I walked to my bedroom in my black, casual dress and let it fall to the floor. I slid a T-shirt over my slender, frame, and cropped pajama bottoms I had spilled ink on permanently, a month ago.

I sat up in bed against the bed stand, with no trace of being sleepy and my cancer-stick.

I though of the handsome, mysterious, shy boy I had met a couple nights ago, again. This unknowingly brought a faint smile to my lips. Then I thought about how me saw me eat shit when I fell on my face in the middle of the street. The smile vanished.

Embarrassment

I cringed, hoping he'll forget it when I see him, or if I even see him again.

I walked to the kitchen, and grabbed the bottle of Cherry Brandy, and the Crystal shot glass from the cupboard, and then back to my bed. I sat criss-crossed on the made bed, the alcohol next to me on the night stand.