Sins On The Skin

XXII.

"Have you ever been in love, Drew?" The professor impulsively inquired, his voice low and almost drowned by the music. He half hoped Drew hadn't heard him.

How bold of him to believe that the universe would show even a small amount of kindness.

"Oh, I fall in love every night." The older man gestured around. "With all this beauty how could I not? Beauty is the only thing that matters in this life, kid. If we don't have that, we have nothing."

"Awfully poetic words coming from a man who makes a living out of watering down Vodka and listening to people's problems."

"Awfully cynical words from a man who makes a living out of analysing frivolous shit and grading papers."

"Touché." He lifted his drink again, ignoring the fact that it was mostly empty. "I'll drink to that."

"So," Drew dropped the wash rug on the counter and leaned in, "What's the problem? Haven't seen you here since you made me trick that pretty little thing."

Nathaniel glared at his empty glass, pushing it towards Drew when it didn't magically fill itself. Drew didn't even glance at it. "My apologies. I've recently come to the realisation that I should not have done that, I shouldn't have tried with her at all."

"Now, I know you don't mean that." It took all the strength he had not to place his palms on the professor's shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses. "She seemed to really care about you."

"'Seemed' being the key word." A shrug. "Apparently she has a fiancé. God, you should have seen that douchebag, standing there like he owned her, talking to her like she was a pet, speaking to me with that posh accent and being oh, so polite."

"Ah, I've known guys like that in my time. Awful people. Wouldn't surprise me if he started treating her less like a pet and more like a object as time went by." The words hang in the air between them, heavy with meaning.

Nathaniel dismissed them immediately, not emotionally stable enough to analyse them properly. "I'd seen pictures of them together, but it was never mentioned that it was that serious. Of course, she never mentioned anything."

"Engagements aren't that serious." Drew kept ignoring the tumbler. He wasn't about to knowingly cause any more damage to his companion. So, in lieu of destroying Nathan's liver even further, he nudged him and playfully said, "They break easily, it just takes the right person to break them."

The protagonist of that sad little scene was in the middle of replying when a small, delicate hand fell on his shoulder, using his body as a crunch. He turned to see who it was.

"Speak of the Devil." The older man whispered practically to himself before turning to their female companion. "Hello Marissa."

She must have replied. Nathan caught her voice, so she must have spoken but there was no way he could be sure. Perhaps, he'd imagined it. It was possible since he'd been too busy staring at her to pay attention.

Ten seconds after her hand abandoned his shoulder, he came to the conclusion that the person sitting next to him wasn't Marissa.

No, it looked like her, it had the same eyes as her, the same lips, the same body, it wore the same pendant but it was not her. That was not the confident woman he knew. An imposter. A clone, perhaps but not Marissa.

As far as he could see, there was not an ounce of makeup on her face. Faint purple circles decorated her eyes. Her normally exposed skin hid beneath layers and layers of dark clothing. Her tangled blonde hair fell down, covering her already suffocated breasts.