Complicity [h.s]

24

"Don't be so desperate, sweetheart." She whispers, flipping that switch again.

"Okay okay!" I plead in mercy, slapping the wall twice next to her head.

She releases her grip so I can breathe, turning away and continuing down the last few steps into the bar. I stay in spot, holding the wall with my head down until the pain goes away.

I knew it wasn't that easy.

I straighten up and follow her into the room, slow music blaring. The first thing I notice is a small stage at the back, someone standing on it with a spotlight and a microphone, lip syncing to some random sad song. Half of the bar pays attention at their tables while the other half are lost in their own conversations.

I turn my head back straight and see Aven already at the bar, bent over the counter on her elbows and talking to a middle-aged bartender. The way he smiles at her with a towel on his shoulder tells me she's flirting. I roll my eyes and walk up next to her on an empty stool, rubbing my crotch to ease the tenderness.

The bartender walks away while Aven takes her seat, crossing one leg over and folding her arms on the counter. Her eyes examine all the memorabilia up the walls in this old bar, taking in every sign, every bottle, every picture, every crack in the wall.

I sit facing her, propping my head up from my elbow and just watching her as she watches everything else. There's a lot of middle-aged men in this bar, everyone's drinking a pitcher of beer. I guess this is a good place to stay hidden, I'm sure nobody would know who I am here.

"So, Mariana has yet to find her Prince Charming?" I begin.

She shrugs, keeping her eyes on everything behind the bar. "Patrick didn't seem that bad."

I laugh. "He's not your type."

"And how would you know?"

"Because instead of sipping champagne to a $300 dinner with him, you're sitting in a washed up bar with me."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," she chuckles with disbelief. "I'm at a bar and you just happen follow my every move."

I smirk, "Whatever makes you feel better, angel."

Her eyes finally peer to mine but the contact is short-lived when the bartender brings a bunch of shots on a platter. I count six.

"I can kiss you right now, Cedric." She thanks him, somehow on a first name basis.

He smirks and turns his head to the side, gesturing a kiss. Aven leans forward over the counter and gives him one exaggerated smooch on the cheek so some of her lipstick stains his skin. He smiles and walks over to serve more customers.

"Alright," She starts dishing them out between us. "Three and three, you're welcome."

Eyes darting to the shots, I keep the small smile on my face and just slowly shake my head.

"You don't want them?" She furrows her brows.

"I'm alright, thanks." I decline.

She shrugs and picks one up.

"More for me I guess." She tosses one back easy, not even making a face like she use too. I always remember how extreme her face would scrunch up when taking shots, she really hated doing them. But now I watch her quiet face as she easily hammers back two with no change of expression.