SINN | +18

• chapter • 2 •

chapter two:
izabelle

• • •

WE'VE BEEN AT THE CLUB FOR THREE hours yet I haven't gotten bored. It's probably the alcohol talking but I'm having the time of my life, which doesn't normally happen. Then again, I'm normally sober and not stumbling around the club in heels I've never worn in my life. Who the hell am I even trying to look good for? It's not like I plan to go home with anyone.

"Iz! My beauty!"

I turn around a bit too quickly and almost fall, only to have Mitch catch me with a snort. I smile up at him thankfully and ruffle his hair up, then start looking around the crowded club.

"What... what are you doing?" He asks, starting to look with me.

"Oh, just looking for a girl you're going to have yourself hooked on to in the next twenty minutes," I tease, noticing the scrunch of his nose.

"That's no fun." He wraps an arm around my shoulder and guides me to a nearby booth. "You're my number one girl, Iz. This is our night together."

I smile up at him as he sits next to me. He orders a shot while I pour more of my special drink which we like to call Rich as Heaven.

Tastes delicious.

Hits like a bus and fucks mortals the hell up with a single drop.

And I've had half of the bottle back at home.

"Bottoms up," he says while clinking our glasses.

I down my shot first and wiggle in my seat, giggling while Mitch gags slightly. My body feels warm and tingly and I stand to my feet, extending my hand for Mitch to take.

"Dance with me," I slur, smiling at him when he takes my hand in his and stands up. We walk to the dance floor. "I'm surprised you've stuck it out with me for so long."

"And abandon my best friend?" Mitch scoffs, finding the same rhythm to the music as me. "I've... maybe I've had a change of heart, Iz."

I chuckle slightly and nod unconvincingly. It feels like hours went by with just dancing until I excuse myself to grab another drink. I stumble to the booth and down another shot, wincing slightly before turning back to walk to Mitch.

But that's not why I stop walking.

I stop walking because I can see Mitch staring intently at a woman from across the bar. And whispering things in his ear is a dark shadow with bright red eyes and two very large wings and horns, which is all he needs before making his move. I walk towards Mitch and I'm not even ten feet away from him before a deep voice speaks into my ear.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you."

I jump and do a fast 180, stumbling once more. Two rough hands grip my hips to stop me from falling but I shake them off, glaring up into two crimson eyes. Then, without meaning to, my drunk eyes decide to leave his face and drink in the rest of him.

Oh, sweet holy moly...

Tattoos. Lots and lots of tattoos. They're all black and shaded, travelling up his hands and muscular arms and under his rolled sleeves. If that isn't enough, more tattoos crawl up his neck and curl up his ear. A dark smirk curls on his lips, exposing his perfect straight teeth, and he looks down at me, causing his dark hair to fall out of place.