The loud music blared, temporarily quieting the overwhelming thoughts that raced through my mind. With unsteady steps, I followed him to the bar, silently praying that he would order a strong drink. My mind was a jumbled mess, so I let him take the lead. Once he ordered, we found a secluded spot where we could still see the entire club. Despite my discomfort, I wasn't sure if it was just my anxiety telling me I should have stayed home or if it was the exhaustion and stress from the day taking their toll.
I plopped down on one of the couches and quickly finished off my drink without a second thought. I could sense Blaze's gaze on me, observing my every action with silent judgment. Part of me was secretly hoping he would make a sarcastic remark to break the thick tension in the air. However, he stayed quiet, which was unexpected.
As we made our way there, I debated whether or not it was the right time to discuss the confusing situation between us. But ultimately, I decided against it. I couldn't help but watch him as he took off his jacket and casually draped it on the couch. His muscles were clearly defined under his white shirt, and his long hair fell down his back in its usual flow. I was mesmerized by his mere presence, and I couldn't resist reaching out to play with his locks once more. Despite wanting to resent him for messing with my feelings, I found myself even more attracted to him than before.
As soon as he turned his gaze back to me, I pulled him closer and pressed my lips against his, desperate to escape the pain that had consumed me. This wasn't our usual dynamic; Blaze was usually the one initiating physical intimacy. He wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, a rare occurrence that only happened when he was too drunk to speak. But now he was sober and smelled so good. I buried my face in his chest, feeling the muscles beneath me tense up. So much had happened lately, and it seemed like there was no solution in sight. Tears began to trickle down my cheeks, catching me by surprise. Blaze gently pushed me away and lifted my tear-streaked face, looking puzzled for the second time tonight. I leaned in for another kiss, but he instead planted a gentle one on my forehead while keeping one arm around my neck.
"Who hurt you?" he asked softly, his fingers running over the scars on my arms. This day filled me with fear. It wasn't the first time he had seen or touched them, but he had never shown interest in their origin until now. Even if he had asked before, I don't think I would have divulged the truth.
I remained silent, the memories of the past still causing me pain. It was a part of my life that I had tried to push away since him and Cain. He could sense my reluctance to discuss it and began kissing my neck, eventually pausing at the ring dangling from my necklace. My heart skipped a beat as he toyed with it.
"I saw you wearing only this necklace. Who gave you the ring?" he asked.
As he came back to my height, I leaned in and rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes. It was a bit unexpected that he didn't know the significance of the ring. Its meaning held painful implications for me.
"A friend gave it to me.". I hesitated before answering, not wanting to go into too much detail at the moment. I figured he would push for more information, but he simply took a sip of his drink and settled back on the couch. I studied him intently, hoping to understand what was going through his mind. He let out a sigh and ruffled his mop of red hair thoughtfully.
"The first time I saw you, I thought you were married," he admitted, avoiding eye contact with me. "The ring you're wearing is an engagement one, but I've never seen you with a man who'd be a match for you. Then I saw you with Cain and assumed you were cheating on your husband or fiancé. But now, I have no idea what's really going on with you.".
I looked at him with wide eyes, refraining from asking him what kind of man would suit me.
After a moment of hesitation, I mustered up the courage to speak. "Could you grab me another drink?" I asked nervously. "I might end up telling you about it anyway." I wasn't sure if it was the right moment for such confessions or if he was the right person to confide in, but I couldn't keep carrying this burden alone any longer. Perhaps talking about my struggles with someone else would provide some relief.
He got to his feet and made his way over to the bar, intending to order another round for both of us. I couldn't help but worry about him driving later, but I held onto the hope that I could persuade him to take a cab back to my place afterwards. When he returned, he placed two glasses on the table before sitting down next to me and draping an arm around my shoulders. Taking a few sips of my drink, I hoped the alcohol would give me the courage to open up about something I had never shared with anyone before.
"A few years ago, I had a job at a local newspaper. Initially, I just covered mundane, everyday issues and random economic news. But then the editor-in-chief changed, and we started covering more stories, including interviews with notable people, including heroes," I explained as I watched him closely.
"During the time I was there, I also conducted such interviews. That's how I met the man who gave me this ring. We went on a few dates after our first interview and eventually became a couple for two years, until one evening when he asked me to marry him," I added.
No matter how many times I tried to erase it, the memory of that night remained vivid in my mind. It was a special occasion, his birthday, and we had chosen a cozy restaurant for some intimate celebrations. On our walk back to his place, he suddenly stopped and knelt down on one knee.
The freezing temperatures outside didn't bother me, as I have never felt more warmth and affection than I did at that moment. That night was truly unforgettable and will always hold a special place in my heart
I reclined on the couch, gazing up at the ceiling, while I replayed that unforgettable memory in my mind. Shutting my eyes, it almost felt as though I was transported back to that apartment, laying on his bed. A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the sensation of his touch. My thoughts were interrupted when Blaze scooted closer.
Letting out a sigh, I glanced down at my empty glass and carried on with my tale.
"After that, everything went haywire," I confided in him. "We were so happy, planning our dream wedding in secret. We had everything ready, just waiting to send out invitations. And the first person we wanted to share the news with was his father. That's where things went wrong," I explained, feeling his arms wrap around me and a quick kiss on my neck. It was like he was trying to give me strength to finish telling the story, as my voice was trembling.
"We went to his father's house full of excitement, and I proudly handed him the invitation. However, as soon as he read it, he started arguing with his son. The situation quickly escalated, and we had to leave before things got out of hand. We both held back from saying hurtful words, but I could feel the tension between us. When we returned home, everything he did seemed to grate on my nerves. I tried to brush it off at first and focus on finding a solution to change his father's mind. But then his phone rang, and I overheard him arguing with his dad in another room. It was then that I realized he had already planned a wedding for his son—not with me, but with someone who had a complementary superpower so they could have perfect children together," I said with a heavy heart, finishing my second drink.
"It was a sudden realization that I couldn't mend our relationship. With a heavy heart, I mustered the courage to end things with him. We spent the whole night arguing, and neither of us was willing to compromise. In the end, I stormed out and went back to my own place," I added.
Blaze handed me his glass, which I quickly gulped down before asking for more alcohol. My mind was already swimming in dizziness. Without a word, he got up and headed to the bar for another round of drinks. I leaned my head back against the couch, closing my eyes briefly, but it only made the nausea worse. When I opened my eyes again, Blaze had returned with a bartender in tow, carrying more bottles and glasses to our table. The bartender left momentarily, then returned with additional cocktail ingredients before leaving for good. As Blaze mixed me a drink, I struggled to keep him in focus through my blurred vision.
"What are you making there?" I asked, quickly approaching him and resting my head on his left shoulder.
"It's called Cherry Bomb, I'm sure you'll like it," he replied, kissing me quickly before turning back to his drink.
He quickly prepared it, then handed it to me, seemingly eagerly waiting for me to tell him how I liked it.
"It's amazing," I said after I took a sip. "I had no idea you were such a talented mixologist.".
"There are many things I'm good at," he said proudly, pouring himself a glass. "You've only experienced two of them.".
One of them clearly was sex, and I was going to ask him what the others were, but he waved me on to continue the story.
"He tried to call me, but I couldn't face him. So I lied and told him I was already with someone else. But I couldn't keep up the charade. Guilt ate at me until I finally confessed. But it was too late. We kept talking, clinging to the false hope that things could be fixed," I continued, my voice trembling with emotion as I immediately drained my glass.
Despite feeling the effects of the drink, I couldn't resist the urge for another. I attempted to set my glass on the table, but before I could, he grabbed it from my hand and placed it back in front of me.
I tugged on his shirt, drawing him closer to me in search of a momentary escape. However, when I kissed him, he did not reciprocate. Looking at his expression, I realized he was not in the mood for such distractions. It was rare for him to reject my advances and refuse to play along.
I pretended to laugh as I asked, "Do you want to know the rest of the story?" He nodded in agreement. "Back then, I couldn't stand to be around him. My mental state deteriorated quickly, suffocating me until I could barely function. I attempted to maintain a façade at work, but everything fell apart much quicker than I anticipated."
Tears continued to flow down my cheeks uncontrollably.
"I had reached my breaking point and resigned from my job. My sister had to come and get me because I was on the verge of falling apart, relying on medication just to make it through each day. But even with all my attempts to find a new job, no one wanted to hire me upon learning about my condition," I muttered, taking a deep breath as I braced myself for what was about to happen.
"After another interview that left me feeling humiliated, I saw him with his wife on my way home. That was the final straw—I couldn't take it anymore. My temper flared, and I stormed past them without a word." As I recounted the situation to him, I noticed his eyes grow wary, as if he already knew what was coming next.
"I'm going to need something stronger than alcohol for what I have planned," I confessed in a hushed tone.
Blaze wordlessly refilled my glass, his eyes blazing with fury. As he handed me the tall glass, I noticed it was filled with a deep purple liquid. Before I could even ask why, he began speaking again.
"This is the final one," he declared, his demanding voice sending a chill down my spine. "I can't believe you lasted this long without throwing up.".
My lips curved upward slightly as I reached for my glass, but he snatched it out of my reach.
His face remained blank as he repeated his statement in a stern tone, "This is the final one." I knew better than to challenge him on this.
"My mind was an inferno of despair and anguish as I walked through the door of my house," I told him after he finally handed me the glass.