lovestruck• fillie

shots and reunions

"Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothing else to compare
The sight of you leaves me weak
There are no words left to speak
But if you feel like I feel
Please let me know that is real
You're just too good to be true
I can't take my eyes off you"

•••

She sat at the very edge of the bar, waiting for something astronomical to happen. She didn't know why she was here if Sadie was just going to bail on her. Again. The brunette smiled, bitterly. She was angry at herself. Why did she have to depend on her so much? Ever since elementary school, she had clinged on to Sadie.
God (sorry) she knew she shouldn't depend on her so much, but it was hard. Sadie was like a mother to her in a way, it was bad to think of her like that but Millie Brown never had a mother figure in her life and Sadie was as close as she could get. Even all through school, Sadie was like a mom to the brunette. It was a problem, really. Maybe she was only friends with her out of pity. Millie wouldn't be surprised.

The angel just kept drinking silently, loathing herself more and more. But then, something caught her eye. Across the bar, was a man smoking, also by his lonesome. Except, he looked like he was doing it by choice. There was a group of women behind him, nervous. Millie rolled her eyes at the giggling girls behind the shadow. She couldn't really see his face, only being able to make out his shape. He was probably going to bring one of them home. Maybe all of them. Who knows?
Millie got up, paying for the untouched drink and wandered around for the bathroom. Not that she needed to use it, she just needed to collect herself and maybe cry. Goodness, she really is a screw up, isn't she?

She had her phone in hand, pretending to text so people wouldn't stare at her walking aimlessly. She had no idea where the bathroom was, this was a new bar. She had already texted Sadie 15 times but it was clear she was busy- obviously; why else would she stand up Millie?

People were already staring at her though, and it wasn't because of her actions, it was because of her beauty. Her cropped brown hair barely made it past her shoulder, she had very light almost to no makeup, and her dress just added to her loveliness. It was a long white dress, brushing against the floor, it had a very deep neckline that ended right between where her ribs met, the skirt wasn't super poofy and there was a long slit that ended at her mid-thigh, all while the bodice clinger gently around her torso. It showed off her figure gently, conservative but still beautiful. Her wings looked so delicate and so soft. She looked like a dream.

And she felt like one too despite everything. At least she was being independent and was finally realizing that maybe she doesn't need Sadie to go out. Maybe, she really could be independent. Though her almost-good mood was stripped of her too soon when she suddenly felt an all-too warm arm snake around her waist. It was like time had stopped, but in a bad way. Not the way where you feel fuzzy inside. This was like if she had met her murderer in a dark alley. It was a second where her head screamed danger. The music slowed, the lights moving across her much slower, and the people dancing seemed to be stuck in slow motion.

Millie felt paralyzed. Like she couldn't move. She was sure it was how a fish felt when a shark looked at it. Her hold on her drink tightened. She suddenly regretted wearing this dress. How could she be so stupid to wear something so revealing? Of course when she had planned to wear it, she thought she would be with Sadie. Sadie was so bold and ferocious that she was almost Millie's protecter. Oh, how she missed Sadie...

She looked down ashamedly, her face getting hot. This had happened to her before- the assaulting- but no one had ever gotten this close to her without her consent. The last time she had let someone this close to her body, she had let them. But now, if she could disappear, she would. Sure, a few catcalls here, a couple of hollers there but none of the "men" had actually managed to touch her. The arm that groped her now, had an owner and he spoke.