Blaring music surrounded Claire’s ears while she tapped her finger against the bar counter. A cigarette squished between her fingers and a cold beer dripped onto the table. Her bloodshot eyes ran across the lounge where blurred faces blindly bumped into each other. She tugged on the long sleeves of her turtleneck sweater while a book of poems sat opened on the table. After each puff of smoke escaped her lips, she flipped the page only to read each poem, slowly, programming the words into her brain.
Claire slammed the book shut and took another deep breath of tobacco, releasing the smoke through her nose, and reaching her other hand to the beer. After taking a sip she brushed her fingers through her hair and sighed, shaking her head.
Suddenly a body moved next to her and sat down on the bench next to her.
“Watcha reading?” The voice sounded like a gunshot and Claire jumped. Black eyes met green and she froze gazing deeply at her complection. She flicked ash off her cigarette and allowed it to sit in her mouth.
“Something no one cares about.” She explained. The man chuckled and moved closer while the bartender approached him.
The man scooted closer and cocked his head lazily to the side. He held no smell of alcohol nor smoke on his lips. Claire felt jealousy pinch her heart. “It's important to you isn't it?”
Claire’s eyes sharpened and she dropped her gaze down at her book out in front of her, the title beaming in her eyes. She shuttered and reached an empty hand towards it.
“Only thing that is.” She murmured. She tugged tighter on the sweater. The man's eyes flicked down to her gentile fingers and he bit his lip locking eyes with her again.
“I’m Luke.” He explained. Her uneasy eyes lifted up and she took a deep breath holding out her hand.
“Claire.” She murttered. He smiled and took it happily, shaking her fragile cold hand. Luke let go then dropped his eyes back to her shirt, his eyes scraping her body.
“Claire.” The way he said her name put a shiver down her spine and she moved closer, smashing the head of her cigarette into the ashtray and removing the light from the burnt bud. “It's the middle of July, on a Friday night and you're wearing a baggy sweater. Aren't you hot?” Luke wondered seductively. She dropped her gaze down at her clothing and then back up to his green eyes.
She frowned and scoffed, tugging on the soft fabric in annoyance, tugging it up and over her shoulders, next her head until she was wearing a small black tank top. His eyes fell on her tattooed covered arms. It was hard to see, but scars covered her arms and shoulders. Sorrow filled his heart and he lifted his attention back up to Claire who was no longer looking at him, but instead chugged down a bottle of Bud Light.
“I-I didn't mean for you to-”
“Yeah hold on.” She cut him off raising a hand and and signaling the bartender. The man moved over ed and leaned his head over the bar. She whispered something to the man and he turned to Luke with disappointment in his eyes while he went out to the back.
“What was that for?” He wondered placing his hands in his pockets.
She shrugged looking back down at her wrists.
“I needed him to make a phone call for me.” She mumbled.
“Oh yeah. What for?” He asked her. Claire paused and smirked crossing her legs.
“You'll see.” She winked. Luke blushed and looked concerned at her drink noticing that she hadn't taken a sip in a while. He scowled and scoffed meeting her gaze again.
