Satine | KTH

44. Je t'aime

"I have a girlfriend," was all he said before the bartender interrupted asking for her order.

"That's so interesting, do you want a medal or something?" Squinting her eyes over at the bottles of alcohol lined messily in a row, Satine refused to give the rude stranger any more of her attention.

"Just order your whiskey to try and look cool, princess." He muttered under his breath.

"I'll have a Redheaded Slut!"

The barmaid shook her head in confusion.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est ?"

Just as Satine opened her mouth to reply, the man next to her answered for her.

"Jägermeister... Peach Schnapps... and cranberry juice..." She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her head.

The doorbell chimed and a gust of evening air carried through the space. It was strong enough for goosebumps to settle on her arms, but the stranger had already taken care of that. She was afraid to turn, afraid that it was the universe playing a cruel trick on her.

Comme in rêve.

It wasn't him. There was no way. It wasn't possible.

It was too soon.

"Red?" His wavering tone sent a shock through her body, paralysing her.

Her chin angled towards him, though the luxury of her eye contact was out of the question. Fear makes you do crazy things, and not looking at him when she was dying to do so, may have been the most insane thing Satine had ever done.

"Look at me. I need to know it's you."

It had been so long since she had heard his voice. It broke her how she didn't recognise him sooner.

"I can't."

This was not how it was supposed to happen. She had convinced herself she would never see him again. No matter how many times he promised he would find her, she didn't believe him for a second. The stars never aligned for them before, so why would they know?

"I can't... I can't, I-"

His finger pulled at her chin until they were staring each other dead in the eyes.

He had aged like fine wine. He was sharper, more angular than he once was. His dark hair was short, shorter than it had ever been, but it suited him profusely. Anything suited him, it was one of his many charms.

"What are you doing here," Satine let out in a small cry, as the tears started pooling. "I don't under- I don't get it- No, this is a sick joke. You're supposed to be in jail-" She was overwhelmed, terribly so, and it didn't help that he was just staring at her with a blank face.

The air conditioning hummed as sweat dripped down her back under the heat of his gaze. Tension coiled beneath her skin and she gave in and ran, foolishly ripping herself from his hold. How could she be so stupid? Waiting all this time only to pull out at the last hurdle.

The bathroom door slammed behind her and she gasped over the sink.

He was not someone you ran away from, he often made sure of it.

"You're real..." His voice came out of nowhere in a warm whisper - smooth like butter dripping down her lips, her neck, her chest. She wanted to scratch at herself, to get rid of the pain something so simple as his tone brought. "I finally found you."

Satine couldn't hold herself up any longer and so she turned and dropped into his arms, knowing that he would catch her with no hesitation.

"Oh my God," she sobbed into his chest.