All of My Days

11

Author's Note: ⚠️⚠️⚠️ this is not a trigger warning, but ⚠️this chapter contains some bad decisions and should not be read by people under the age of 18 ⚠️ also, smoking causes cancer and other diseases.

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2016

Seri flicked the ash off the cigarette onto the wet sidewalk and flinched as a headlight of a passing car blinded her momentarily. She leaned her back onto the glass wall of the building, feeling the dull pulse of the music beat inside the club reverberate through the soundproofing. She pulled in more smoke and looked down the street as Granville grew quieter and rowdier at the same time as the clock showed past 2am. A mix of drunk clubbers, homeless people and drug addicts dissipated as many retreated for the night, however the club was still full of dancers, her company included. The loud beat was giving her a headache and she needed some air (or a smoke) as she left her inebriated friends on the dancefloor and stepped outside. The drizzle and fresh air helped with the headache, and the cigarette cleared her mind of the alcohol trance she was in for the past few hours, but having that daze lift off left her empty and a tad melancholic.

The door of the club swung open and a wave of sound brought her back to reality as someone stepped out onto the street. The door shut and she couldn't hear the music anymore, so she caught a glance of the guy pulling his cigarette pack from his jacket pocket.

"Shit," she heard him swear and fumble with keys and his wallet. "Excuse me?"

He stepped a bit closer to her and Seri looked up, taking another drag of smoke. The blond guy in his early 30s lowered his head a bit to catch her eye and smiled friendly.

"Can I borrow a light?"

Seri pulled her lighter out of the pocket and handed it to the guy, avoiding his eyes.

"Thanks," he lit his cigarette and returned the silver lighter, taking a long drag and huffing out a big cloud of smoke.

"Nice weather, huh?" he noted and Seri snickered at his pathetic conversation starter.

"Not enjoying the party?" he asked then after a few minutes of silence. Seri continued taking drags off her cigarette and flicking the ash off, not bothering to reply.

She enjoyed the first few hours of the party. The alcohol was serving her well and the company of her Korean girlfriends was fun enough. For a little while. What she wanted right now though was not a girlfriend pat on the shoulder. She was cold.

"Yeah me neither," Seri heard the guy utter under his breath and eyed him from under her eyelashes. He was tall, his light curls untamed and a slight reddish stubble peppered his chiseled jaw. He was wearing a black leather jacket similar to the one Seri was sporting herself, and light-wash Levi's. She observed as his long fingers curled the cigarette and brought it to his lips and back down as he continued smoking, looking idly at a group of people across the street near another club entrance.

Seri threw the butt of her cigarette into the wet trash bin and straightened up, turning on the heels of her knee-high black boots. She darted a glance at the guy as he turned to look at her, his attention caught by her movement. His eyes followed the girl's lithe figure as she turned towards the club door, swaying her long black hair. He reached out to hold the door for her and she stepped in and the darkness of the club enveloped her back into the crowd and the music. Chuckling slightly, the guy threw his own cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to extinguish the flame, then followed her into the Club, the door shutting after him with a soft thud.

***

His apartment was indeed right around the corner. The elevator ride was long, bringing them up to the 38th floor of the glass condo building, giving the blond guy enough time to familiarize himself with the curve of her neck with his lips and the sensitive spot under her ear. Seri closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his warm breath on her skin, and his hands enveloping her body. They stepped into his apartment, their hands still intertwined, and Seri flicked the light on to scan the living room quickly. He turned her towards the space, his hands on her shoulders, and walked closely behind her, his lips never leaving her neck, pushing her jacket off gently. Seri looked around from under her hooded eyes and noticed how the place screamed "bachelor": empty pizza boxes on the coffee table, a big gamer desk and a chair in front of a complicated-looking computer set up. She helped him shrug her jacket off and felt his arms circle around her waist immediately. He pressed his cheek to the side of her head and inhaled the lavender scent of her hair, smiling lazily as he pulled her satin blouse up from the waistband of her jeans.

I bet your hair would smell amazing.

Seri squeezed her eyes shut as the words danced in her mind and tried to focus on the man hugging her at this moment. She felt his fingers graze her abs lightly, nudging her towards the back of the couch that was facing the TV stand. She placed her hands on it, trying to stabilize her breath, her thoughts jumbled as he moved his hand to palm her breast under the fabric of the blouse. The room was quiet, only the soft huffs of their ragged breath filling the space. The guy pushed her long hair over one shoulder and pressed his lips to the back of her neck, continuing fondling her breast sensually. Her nipples strained at the touch and were begging to be rolled between his oblivious fingers and she exhaled, feeling a bit light-headed.

I would whisper something sweet into your ear... like you're the hottest girl I've ever seen.

She turned around towards the guy and kissed him aggressively, trying hard to get rid of the words and the memories. He reciprocated eagerly and led them towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss. Her blouse was tossed somewhere along the way along with his jacket and t-shirt, and she stumbled a bit before he lowered her onto his mattress, unbuttoning her jeans with one skillful hand.

Seri closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sensations the guy was giving her, his hands caressing her body and his tongue playing with hers.

I'd make sure it wouldn't hurt.

But it did.

Every time.

If it hurts, it means you're not really ready.

She thought she was.

...

Seri picked up her boots on the way out of the room, throwing one last glance at the guy snoring, spread on the bed on his stomach, his naked back illuminated by the soft moonlight seeping through the floor to ceiling window.

She's had worse.

Seri wiped her cheek with the sleeve of her blouse, slipped her boots back on, grabbed the jacket and walked out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind her.

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Cover photo found on Google Images