"Can you—not!" I struggled, getting dragged behind Bane, my wrists in his tight grip.
He turned his head briefly to give me a nasty glare, and continued walking.
He tugged me ahead of him, lightly nudging me into a room, and finally let go of my wrist.
I glared at him, shaking it out.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I spat out.
I don't give a single chicken fried fuck that he's back. He could've come a day earlier. He could've not left in the first place.
He didn't look too surprised at my hostility— only aggravated. Narrowing his eyes, he advanced towards me.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?" He challenged.
"What— dancing with a guy— at a party?" I feigned a confused pause, "Oh wait— I'm sorry, was I supposed to wait on you? Figure out when you would make your way back— pause everything regardless of the fact that you left me!— you left me a second time!" I questioned rhetorically, my voice having raised considerably.
He stepped back, eyes darkening, "You had to understand that I needed time— You were supposed to not fuck a stranger the next minute—"
"You weren't supposed to leave!" I yelled out hoarsely, interrupting him.
His face dropped— eyes unguarded, storming with a variety of emotions— the hurt apparent, tangible.
"You weren't supposed to get close— you'll get hurt— I'll lose you Alura." He said lowly.
I remained quiet. The sound of the raging music considerably lower within the closed room— though deafening in the silence that ensued.
"You don't get to say that." I said finally.
Stepping closer I continued, "You can't decide an end to a story that hasn't even fucking begun."
I exhaled slowly, "But if you're choosing to— I'm not going to be a part of that story."
And with that I turned on my heel, chest constricting— though I somehow made it out of that God forsaken room, back into the noisy crowd of drunkards.
My alcohol induced mind ceased to exist— the events having sobered me up. I walked to the bar, the previous bartender missing, and noticed a bottle of tequila left unattended.
Grabbing the bottle off the counter, I made my way out, through the grinding body's, and out into the fresh air.
I pulled out my phone, calling Donny.
I held the phone to my ear, hearing it ring a couple times before Adonis picked up.
"Hey, Donny I'm heading home— I'm not staying over I'll just call a cab and go back to the penthouse."
"Mmmmkaaaaay— remember to make my hotline bling when you get there saaafelyyy." He slurred drunkenly, ending the call with a series of obnoxious kisses.
I quickly contacted an Uber, sitting on the edge of the curb in front of the house to wait. I remembered my bottle of tequila, popping off the stopper and taking a couple swigs.
YOU ARE READING
[I marched up to him, "Where the hell were you? I thought something happened to you? Did you not care enough to..." My rambling was cut short when a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips collided with mine. Fuck. That's one way to go about it.] ____...