Mumbling through her words, Taylor pleaded the bartender for another drink just to edge off the memories of her recent break up. Her phone constantly was ringing, and she was finally too drunk to notice the numerous notifications coming in from her new arrival of an ex boyfriend.
Babe, I'm sorry. Call me please.
These were the words that chased her into her car and to the local bar a few miles from her dorm. The worst part was that they hadn't stopped since she slammed the door in her boyfriend's face, and she was trying to find any outlet to suffice the anger that grew from some drunk college girl he slept with the previous weekend she was away. He couldn't even remember her name which nonetheless added to the force she used to break the door handle on her way out. The fortunate part now was that she couldn't see her phone for she was six shots in.
As she motioned for another drink, the bartender warned her, "One more missy, and then I'm cutting you off."
She chuckled and downed the last of the tequila she was allowed to have for the night.
"Don't worry about the bill. Some heartthrob already covered you. Get some sleep before you feel it heavy in the morning. Tequila waits for no one."
"Fuck. Was it my ex? I cannot believe he followed me here," Taylor slurred as she swiveled around in her bar stool to observe the room. She scanned the place and couldn't tell the difference between people for they were giant blobs. In the low lighting of the bar, she could barely distinguish the difference between a chair and a person, so there was no way of knowing he was there. The only thing she was sure about was that she was really drunk, and she needed to get home soon. She tried to stand to gather herself to leave but tripped over her bag she left on the ground. Taylor shrunk to the floor, smashing her arm underneath the weight of her body.
A lengthy man, one with eyes as black as the floor beneath her, rushed to her and stared, concerned. She couldn't help but notice the veins sticking out of his arm as he reached to help her up. She sunk into the depth of his stare and held him as he held her drunken body up. They stayed in that position for a moment, admiring each other's gazes, until finally the man broke the silence.
"Woah, there. Are you okay? You hit the ground pretty hard and your arm is starting to look swollen."
"Oh...um, um yeah I'm totally fine. Shit happens, am I right?"
Taylor giggled with embarrassment. She couldn't believe she was too drunk to function in such a perfect moment. She desired to talk more with him but was ashamed he was seeing her this vulnerable. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about her. Was she stupid? Was she an ignorant college girl begging for attention? Did she have a boyfriend still? She didn't know the answers to any of those questions except for one. No. She did not have a boyfriend. And she was not going to let a handsome stranger in her arms go to waste.
"Oh, yeah I suppose it does...do you need me to take you to the hospital or call an ambulance? That arm looks really bad. And god it must hur..."
Taylor cut him off with a gasp as he ran his hand over her bruised arm. Her arm really was starting to swell, and it did hurt a lot. But, the gasp was partly from the desire she had to be touched by the stranger. His touch felt different than her last boyfriend, and she began to think of all the other places he could touch her like that. Not just on her clearly broken arm.
"No, no. I think I'll be fine. I can just get some ice when I get back to my dorm. If only I could find my keys..."
The stranger bent down and snatched something dangly under the bar stool. They must have fallen out of her pocket when she fell, and she began to reach for them but he slightly pulled away, teasing her.
