Amber & Honey ~ [DR3]

DR1. Monza

It seems darker at the bar. The only light which exists in the corner shimmering through champagne glasses and the branded Ferrari champagne bottles. The girl is still half bent over the bar counter, trying to speak, her hands waving slightly in an attempt to alert the distracted barmen of her existence. It's not working - they must be blind to ignore her. I take the place to her left, my hands grazing against the hard counter of the bar as the words "You alright?" Fall from me. She freezes with the question, her eyes skirting in my direction as if she can't believe someone here is actually talking to her. "Yeah?" I ask again, leaning a little further into her body incase she didn't hear over the music. Thankfully it seems quieter than before.

The skin of her arm is soft and warm against mine. It kills me a little when I pull away from her.

"Yeah, I just want a drink." She huffs in return her eyes flicking to me briefly. They don't quite meet mine. I wish they did so I can see her more. My eyes fall, first to the teasing glimpse of her exposed breasts and then to the full champagne flute infront of her. My right index finger prods out in its direction.

"Is that not a drink?" I ask, my tone teasing and light. The edges of her mouth tip up and after a second longer to think an entertained grin breaks out on her face. I swear it makes my heart stop for a moment. It's bright and shining and genuine, her whole body seems to have lit up with the grin. Then it slips from her a little, dimming a touch but her body stays just as warm.

"I hate champagne." She states with a shake of her head and a resigned huff. My eyes widen at her words when I realise she's not joking.

"What?!" The smile of disbelief is enough to have her nodding in confirmation. "I think you're in the wrong place to hate champagne." I point out, she doesn't seem to care just hums to herself the word 'maybe' spilling from her. Formula one and champagne go hand in hand. There's a beat of silence between us before our conversation resumes. I get the feeling we're assessing eachother. I'm running through the face of every person I've ever met, wondering if I've seen her before. There's no way I have,  I'm certain I'd remember her. British accent, dark hair, easy demeanor and a body which in different company would have me pawing at her endlessly. "What do you want?" I ask, the words firmer than they should be. My hand falls to the small of her back with the question, fingers itching to touch her again. She just shrugs.

"Anything but this." She gestures with disgust to the light coloured glass infront of her.

"How about a shot?" I propose, cocking an eyebrow at her, fingers pressing further into her skin. The glittery material of the short dress is rough against my fingertips. She hesitates under my watch for a moment, face and all its beautiful twisting in a way which makes me think she's about to reject me. Her head ducks past me, as if looking for someone and I sprint through things I can say to get her to say yes. Things that would get her to stay and talk with me for longer. I don't even know her name. Eventually I find them. "I won my first fucking race of the season today, you can't say no to me darling." The pet name makes her heave in a breath, my eyes linger on her chest long enough to see it. Her lips purse at me a little.

"Okay fine, I won't." She concedes, sliding back from the counter of the bar a few inches and admitting defeat in trying to find whoever it was she was looking for. Internally I do a punch in the air in victory (not for the first time today). I catch the bartenders attention, he looks to me immediately and I try not to laugh as the woman beside me shakes her head, almost groaning out of frustration.

"Do you have anything else she can drink?" I ask carefully in his ear the bartender looks around slightly before shaking his head. No wine, few spirits and a lot of champagne seems to be to the options. Eventually, we settle on three shots of tequila each and a mimosa for the stranger to my right. It's the best I could do. I'll just hope it's acceptable. Then, I lean into her body once more.