Pulling Away

Kara  The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care and neither did I bother to apologize. I was tired of being polite, of wanting to please everyone while neglecting myself. The attractive stranger didn’t flinch or frown. He just looked at me like I’d amused him and caught his interest.  A slow smile spread across his face and the two deep dimples on his cheeks caught me off guard. I had never seen a smile as perfect as his and it disarmed me completely. “Feisty,” he murmured, lifting the drink the bartender had placed in front of him to his lips. His voice was smooth, the kind that made you want to keep listening to it. “I like that.” I rolled my eyes and turned away, pretending to focus on my drink, not noticing the small smile on my face. “I’m sure you like a lot of things, don’t you?”  Lucien chuckled softly. “Not a lot of things. Only interesting ones.” I should have ignored him. I should have stood up and walked out before I made a mistake I would regret. But I didn’t. Something about him didn’t make me leave. Maybe it was because of the kind of peace that came with his presence or his insanely attractive face or I just wanted someone to talk to without being reminded of what had been happening in my life.  “Look,” I said after a while. “I’m not looking for a company, so if you’re trying to….” “Trying to do what?” He interrupted, leaning closer. His scent invaded my nose. It was mild and masculine. I didn’t feel repulsed by it, instead, I wanted it in me. “Flirt? Comfort you?” His tone wasn’t mocking or gentle either. Instead, I felt his curiosity.  I swallowed, my heart beating fast. “I don’t need your comfort.” “Good. I don’t really think I am good at that.” We stared into each other's eyes, neither of us unwilling to look away. I couldn’t take it anymore. The intensity of his gaze was too intense to bear. I looked away first.  He tilted his glass, the smirk never leaving his face. “What brings you here if you don’t need comfort?” I hesitated before finally speaking. “To get away.” He nodded once, as if he understood what I was talking about. “From someone or yourself?” His question had me thinking deep and i couldn’t arrive at a conclusion. “Does it matter?” “Yeah. It always does.” I stared at him. There was something comforting about the way he spoke. He wasn’t prying into my matter and it gladdens my heart.  “Maybe both,” I murmured.  He didn’t reply immediately. His gaze softened for a moment before he looked away. “That’s exhausting, you know. Running from everything.” “Maybe I’m used to it.” “Maybe you shouldn’t be.” The way he says it sent a sting to my heart. For a moment, I forgot about Ryder and the humiliation he brought to me. Instead, I focused on how this stranger made me seen.  “Do you always talk like this to strangers?” I asked curiously.  “No. But it looks like you need it.” “Why would you think so?” I swallowed hard.  “The feeling of pain and betrayal. I can always feel and smell it.” I opened my mouth to speak multiple times but couldn’t think of what to say. He had just read me like an open book and somehow, I didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed about it.  He took a slow slip of his drink. I could still feel his eyes on me. “You don’t have to tell me your babe, princess,” he said. “But you could at least tell me what you’re running from?” “I’m not your princess,” I muttered.  “Not yet,” he muttered.  This was when I should have made up my mind to walk away. But I didn’t. I don’t want to. Something in him kept pulling me to him.  “Maybe I’m just running away from a big mistake.” He leaned closer, his hot breath brushing against my skin. “Then, make a different one.” I froze at his words. “What?” His eyes stayed in mine. “You heard me.” The intensity in his gaze was so strong that it captured me. I found myself unable to look away and I realized too late that I was trembling. He noticed. His hands brushed against mine on the counter. It felt so light that I thought I imagined it. “I should go,” I muttered weakly.  “You won’t.” He sounded so sure that I thought he read my mind. He was right. I didn’t move.  We sat in silence again, with me pretending and trying to ignore how close our bodies were.  “You’ve been hurt, very badly.” I wanted to deny it or laugh it off, but I couldn’t. “You don’t know me.” He tilted his head. “Maybe not, but I’m sure.” “So you think I’m a damsel that needs saving?” I wanted to cry, scream, and shout at him to stop seeing me clearly. Instead, I laughed bitterly.  “No, you’re not. I think you’re someone who loses yourself because someone made you forget.” I didn’t realize I was crying until his thumb brushed away a tear. I should have pushed him away, but I really needed this. His touch was too gentle, something that Ryder would and had never offered me and the walls I put up crumbled under his hard thick thumb.  Everything around us blurred until it felt like the room had fallen away, leaving only the sound of my heartbeat and his quiet, steady breaths. His thumb brushed the tear I hadn’t realized escaped, gentle in a way Ryder never was. It shattered the last of my defenses. “Tell me to stop, princess,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the need to feel something…anything…other than pain. But when his hand slid to the back of my neck and he waited… giving me one final chance to walk away… …I couldn’t.