2
1877 Words
TRISTAN
Like it wasn't bad enough that I had been so caught up with work that I completely forgot about the time and was now rushing back home at ass o’clock, now, I was being proposed to by a crying strange woman.
She was not bad looking, definitely far from it but her face was a mess of tears and snot, and the way her fingers wrapped clumsily around the ring box, eyes tightly shut and breath held told me that this was a woman who was going through something.
Still, no matter what. Was it bad enough to be proposing to a complete stranger in the front of an office building on Christmas morning?
“Excuse me?”
Her eyes widened when our eyes locked, and as I watched her come to the horrific realization that she'd gotten the wrong person, I couldn't help an amused twitch of my lips. She stumbled back a little, and I finally got a better look at her without a ring in my face; she was tall, definitely 5’8ish, with long chestnut hair that was pulled into a tight high bun, but what pulled me in the most was her piercing green eyes that looked like they had so much to say.
Her lips opened and closed, not a single word slipping out of them, and I raised a brow in question, silently urging her to say something. To my utter surprise, she suddenly jumped on me, pulling me into a hug before quickly breaking away and slipping the ring unto my finger.
“What-”
I was completely taken aback by the sudden turn of events, just stood there, gawking at her like a deer caught in headlights.
“Thank you for saying yes.” She said with a smile that was as blinding as it was fake, and then, she leaned in again and planted a kiss on my cheek.
Her hands had felt so cold against mine as she laced our fingers together, and that was when I noticed she wasn’t even dressed for the weather.
“Do you know any bars around here?” She asked with a sigh, now somehow undisturbed by the fact that I was a total stranger, “I really need a drink, something strong enough to forget my thoughts right now, because it's either that or a bridge right now.”
There was not a single hint of humour in her words, and if the tear-streaked cheeks weren't enough, this sealed my suspicion that something was terribly wrong with her.
She was shivering at this point, and that forced her to release my hand in favour of wrapping her arms around herself. Without thinking too much of it, I slipped my jacket off and wrapped it around her before starting the walk to my car.
She remained rooted in her spot, so I turned around and quirked my head.
“Well… are you coming or not?”
She shuffled to my side and got into the car without hesitation, and I drove to the closest bar in the vicinity, and the same one I'd been frequenting for years now.
“Another one!” She demanded as another shot was poured down her throat, slamming the glass down on the counter. I wondered if she would know when to stop or if I'd had to come in at one point. We were seated on the bar stools now, and I nodded at the bartender who slid the bottle towards me and went back to tending to the very few customers left.
“That bastard!” She suddenly yelled, startling me, “I should've known everything was too good to be true. I…. I had everything planned out. The cookies he loved, the lights, the music, the Christmas clothes he told me he adored, only for me to find out….” Her words trailed off as she fisted the front of her shirt, heaving for breath. She had pulled the band out of her hair in a bid to get more comfortable, and now her hair fell around her entire frame in astounding waves.
“Even…. Even the ring was perfect for him. The perfect size, the perfect colour, with the perfect gem.” Her words got quiter with each syllable, and I could tell from the tone that she was fighting back her tears. It was entertaining really, how she bounced between hot and cold in such short periods of time.
“I thought we were going to be together forever after I proposed tonight. It was going to be perfect.” She sobbed quietly, eyes never leaving my ringed finger that tapped rhythmically on the counter.
“Why?” I finally asked, and her eyes snapped up. It was the first time I'd spoken since we arrived, and she was clearly surprised, but mostly confused.
“Why were you the one proposing?” I clarified, and she shook her head.
“I thought those things didn't matter. I thought it was enough that I loved him. I love him so much that I did not mind doing everything so long as it meant I get to spend the rest of my life with him. He's always been quite….. reserved with his feelings, I just…. I thought he needed me to take that step, and I was so convinced he'd say yes. I didn't think he'd be cheating on me on Christmas Eve with the….”
I winced at her words. Her story felt so cliche, like the kinds you'd read on Reddit from women who were either really desperate, slow, or just plain naive. I felt a headache coming already, and this time, I poured a shot for both of us.
It was now snowing heavily outside, and she still kept looking at the doors like she expected him to walk through it any moment now. I briefly glanced at my wristwatch. Christmas was nothing special for me and was the same every year, but to hear that it meant so much for her only to have it all torn down made me feel some type of way.
Which was odd because usually, I could hardly bring myself to care about the predicament of others. Really, what was I even doing here?
“I’m sure you don’t understand what I'm rambling on about, but it’s fine.” She declared, sucking in a shaky breath, “I am going to be fine. I'll move on. I'll learn, grow, and all of that other bull from this.”
“Trust me, no one moves on from these things so easily.” I murmured with a roll of my eyes as I took a swig directly from the bottle.
It was a sour spot for me, but I was speaking fully from experience. Just the thought of it made me want to laugh, but I couldn't right now because she was staring holes into the side of my face.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she slurred, the alcohol in her system slowly catching up to her, “I am going to move on just fine and I will prove it to you. I won’t just sit around moping over him because he doesn’t deserve it, him and that stupid blonde with thinning hair.” She insisted firmly, and I had to bite back a snort. So her lover had been cheating with a blonde. Good to know.
She stood up sharply from her seat and lost her footing, almost tripping over the stool, but I was quick to reach out and pull her towards me. She crashed against me with her full weight, warm despite the chilly weather and as her perfume, mixed with the stench of alcohol slapped me in the face, I felt a strange, unwanted squeeze in my chest.
It had to be the alcohol, I told myself, but my fingers only dug deeper into her waist. I'd successfully stopped her from falling, but for some reason, I was still holding on, holding her gaze as her large green eyes raked all over my face, her thick brown hair falling unto her shoulders in waves and filling my nostrils with the scent of shampoo. Her body was unusually soft, a complete contrast to my rigid one, all bone and muscles, and I was a second away from mindlessly reaching out before she spoke.
“What makes you think I can’t move on right now, tonight even, if I wanted to.” She spoke into the small space between us, and I blinked, completely thrown off.
“W-What?” I stuttered like an i***t, my eyes darting between her now hooded eyes and her lush, full lips.
I had to be drunk. I was sure of it now, because there's no way she was now suddenly so irresistible to me, and so was she. We were both drunk, and I had to stop this now.
Without another word, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. My eyes widened in shock, and I froze completely. Her lips felt just as soft as she did, and her mouth tasted even better. Like I'd fallen under a spell, I felt that traitorous stir in my pants, and I finally forced myself to stop, pulling her away with a firm grip on her arm.
“What are you doing?” I whispered as she stood just a breath away, enough to be able to talk while sharing the air between us, her entire front still pressed against my chest, and it felt ridiculously hot.
“You don’t want me?” She asked with an air of innocent curiosity, her lips downturned in a way that told me she wasn't just asking that. She really wanted to know.
Every cell in my body protested in response, and there I had my answer. Despite knowing I shouldn't, and that this felt awfully like taking advantage of her vulnerability, I wasn't entirely in the right state of mind, too, and I wanted this so badly.
Fuck it!
“Get out!” I growled at the bartender who quickly scurried away, and a single glance at the now empty bar told me that eveybody else clearly had better places to be.
She bit her lip seductively as my hand dipped low enough for my palm to grip a good portion of her ass.
“Well… here is the thing, if I am going to f**k you, then don’t expect the gentle, sweet lovemaking.”
She pulled away from me and walked over to an empty table, holding onto the edges as she positioned herself on-top of it and pushed her pants low enough to give me a very clear view of her ass and panties.
“I never said I wanted the ‘gentle, sweet lovemaking’, so get over here and f**k my brains out.”
And as I gravitated towards her like a dog on a leash, the weight of her undoubtedly expensive ring heavy on my finger, I knew that I was walking into something that would cost me.
Because this woman in front of me wasn't going to be just a one night stand. She was so much more than that.
- Writer
