𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ~ | 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯

041 || Grey butterflies

After the horrible race in Austria, I decided to take a page out of Layla's book. Vis-à-vis getting super drunk and ignoring your problems. This had some complications for me because my problems were also in the same club.

Speaking of Max, Layla had told me (more like begged for my forgiveness) that she had drunkenly told Max the whole story. I was mad at her. And hurt. But how could I hold that over her? She was drunk. So I let it slide.

I still didn't want to talk. Not to anyone, especially not Max. Who, for the record, had been relentlessly trying to get hold of me for the past few days? I had ignored him just as he had ignored me.

Karma's a bitch.

I was already pretty drunk. Not enough to be seeing double, but enough to gain a lot of unearned confidence. After another round of shots with Layla, I stumbled over to an empty booth to take a breather. About thirty seconds late, someone dropped down next to me.

"Hey, I didn't get the chance to say hi before." Charles crossed his legs and leaned back.

He had a drink in his hand, and his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing a trail of red lipstick marks down his chest. His wrists were adorned with braclets, and he was wearing a couple rings. I had to admit that he looked good.

"Having fun, are we?" I giggled, pointing to his chest. He glanced down with a shrug.

"It passes the time." He replied with a smile, putting an arm around the back of the booth. I reached up and adjusted my hair, watching as people danced and drank around us.

"What about you? Max had been eyeing you all night. Along with many others. Why don't you snatch one up?" He took another sip of his drink, his eyes flashing over to where Max was standing, and sure enough, his eyes kept flickering in our direction. I almost laughed out loud.

"No, I'm good." I replied, shaking my head. He shrugged.

"What is it with you and Max anyway? There is obviously so much tension." He asked me. I hesitated. What was going on?

"He's an ass." I looked away from him with a small scowl. Charles raised an eyebrow at me. There was a small silence.

"You know... If you wanted to, I could help you make him jealous." He offered. I turned to him with a frown.

"Is that a pickup line? Because if so, then it's only sort of working."I narrowed my eyes at him. He let out a laugh. Damn, he was cute with his dimples and twinkling eyes.

"No, don't worry. I would just be a friend helping out another friend." He chuckled, giving me a warm smile.

"Fuck it. Yeah, okay." I shrugged. Why not, right? He smiled and leaned closer to me.

"Just say when and I'll stop, okay?" His voice had dropped. I blinked at him, suddenly a little nervous. What was he planning?

"Okay..." I nodded. He smiled and got to his feet. He held his hand out, inviting me to dance with him. I smiled and took it gratefully.

It worked.

Charles was right, making Max jealous felt like my own little victory. I could sense his eyes on me as Charles's hands wandered my body. He kept whispering for my permission, of course, which I gave gladly.

It always gave me a thrill to feel Max touch me. Charles knew what he was doing. His movements were skillful and calm, but it didn't feel the same. When I felt his hand on my hip, I felt nothing.

There was no real way to describe it.

It was as if the butterflies in my stomach were all dull. Grey butterflies. I still had the fluttering sensation but not the burts of colour.