𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧, young royals

Chapter 25: Stella

"Speaking of," chimed in Maddie, "why don't we quit sitting around like boring idiots and get back on the fucking dancefloor?!  Show Sara what she's missing out on!"

If there are boundaries,
I will try to knock them down

"Yeah, bitch!"

Felice grabbed our hands and hauled us to our feet, stumbling from the three drinks she'd already had, and we ran to the dancefloor hand-in-hand, laughing.

I'm latching on, babe

My head was spinning from the rhum, but it was that good feeling that set in, like your guts coming undone, and I wasn't thinking too hard.  I wasn't thinking at all.

Now I know what I have found

People bounced off the floor, ramming into one another in mosh pits and circles, drinks spilling from their cups as they danced.  A fog from the smoke machines filled up the abandoned building, green, blue, and red flashing lights stabbing through the mist, and people around me turned to faceless silhouettes.

I feel we're close enough

When swaying hips brushed me from behind, I melted into the motion without question.  I saw black hair and a flash-white tank top.  Diamond blue eyes, smoky eye-liner, and crimson lips.

Freja, I remembered vaguely through a intoxicated haze.  From algebra class.  That was her name.

I wanna lock in your love

She flipped me around, palms roaming my stomach and hips, tugging me toward her. Her knee nestled between my thighs, her face inches from mine, lips parted and expectant, mouth treading with the lyrics of the song. It was temerity, I know. It was a substitution, a senseless and quixotic chase for something I could never have.

I think we're close enough

Freja moved like water, plaid printed canvas skirt lifting up her fore thigh as she arched her back, pushing against me.  My heart and head pounded, hammering in my flesh and bones.

Could I lock in your love, baby?

Without thinking, I wrapped her face in my hands and closed the space between us in a hasty, filthy, and sweaty kiss, reeling off a haze of rhum and Coke. A kiss that tasted like lip-liner and raspberry lipgloss, a kiss to forget the taste of cherry lip balm, yet it turned to a fervent reminder of her.

God, couldn't I just get her off my mind for two seconds?

I doubled with intensity with the hope that it'd drown out my illicit thoughts.  Freja sensed it, I think, and her tongue lashed past her lips, swirling all over mine.

From the crowd around us came hoots and whoops; friends and classmates who'd visibly taken notice of our promiscuity.

"Shit, someone get these two a room already!"

"Someone's horny tonight!"

"Oh, that's hot!"

"Shut the fuck up, Nils!"

Freja's lips detached from mine; I tossed my head back to grant her access as her mouth trailed down my throat. I heaved, eyes closed, and my head spun.  Flashing lights, dancing figures, screams and hollers that stabbed into my skull like white-hot needles.

Curtains drew in front of my eyes, but only for a couple of seconds.

And then, in the corner of my eye, something flashed.  Someone, still as a statuette in the midst of the crowded and buzzing dance floor, staring right in our direction.