I closed my eyes and let my mind float away with the thumping sound of the club's music as my body moved to it's intoxiacating beat. I had my arm high over my head, draping off the shoulder of whatever hot guy just happened to be my current dance partner. Right now, I didn't care who I danced with, as long as I could keep moving in the blissful land of forgetfulness the music created. All I wanted to do was dance and forget I had ever loved such a prick.
Hours passed by in the blink of an eye and I moved from dance partner to dance partner, waiting for one who could satisfy my need. I loved to dance, but I'd rather dance alone than with a rhythmically challenged partner. I ended up doing just that for awhile, pretending I was dancing alone in the middle of the dance floor. That is, until I felt something cold and wet pressed against my cheek causing me to all at once stop dancing and open my eyes to find out what was against my face and who had the audacity to interrupt my bliss.
"What the hell?" I snapped, glaring up at the man who'd pressed a cold bottle of water against my cheek. Almost instantly my glare faded as I realized just how gorgeous the man standing in front of me was. He didn't seem like the normal type of guy I was attracted to, with the professional haircut and perfect style of his blonde locks. He even seemed to still be in the suit he'd worn to work that day! But the flawless skin, squarely set jawline and the piercing icy blue eyes he was looking at me with, were enough to make me drool. His smile though, showing those perfect pearly whites, made my knees go weak.
"You've been dancing for hours without a break," he said as he took my hand and placed the water bottle in it. "Come, sit for a minute and rehydrate yourself." I started to refuse but he still had hold of my wrist and pulled me to the table he'd apparently been sitting at. I gave in and took a seat at the table before opening the bottle of water. I raised it to my lips intending to take a small sip but as the cold liquid hit my tongue, I found I was unable to stop until half the bottle was gone. "Maybe I should have brought that to you sooner," he murmured in surprise as he watched me.
"I probably wouldn't have followed you any earlier," I replied, capping the bottle and setting in on the table. I brought my hands up, quickly pulling my waist-length black hair into a high ponytail in an attempt to get it off my hot sweaty neck. I groaned slightly as it only plastered itself back against my damp skin.
"Why wouldn't you have?" he asked, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. I frowned slightly as I saw a brief look of horror flash across his features. Fuck, I forgot that was why I had worn my hair down to go dancing in the first place. I sighed and pretended I didn't notice that he had noticed the dark bruise that covered half my face.
"I wasn't completely fed up with the lack of good dancers yet," I said simply. I looked over at him, almost daring him to ask about my face, but his look had changed to something much softer. "So what brings someone like you out to a place like this?" I asked. I was really curious as to how someone who seemed so out of place could look so comfortable at the same time.
"Probably for a similar reason as you are," he said. I arched an incredulous eyebrow at him. There was no way he was here to drown himself in darkness and loud music to escape the memories of an abusive boyfriend. No way in hell.
"For someone intent on drowning themselves in the complete bliss that is dancing to music that is far too loud, you sure haven't broken a sweat yet," I said sliding on a smirk. He laughed at that and took a sip of the beer in front of him, shaking his head slowly.
"I guess my reasons aren't quite as similar. I was more looking for some place dark to drink where the scenery was worth watching," he said, flashing me that toothy grin once more. I guess I was the scenery he was referring to. "What's your name?" he asked, his blue eyes gazing at me quite intently. I shivered slightly under his gaze. I wasn't ready for someone like him yet. Not with the bruises from the night I'd left Syko for good still pretty fresh and evident on my face. I wanted to be fully cleansed of my ex before I even thought of moving on with someone new.
"Can you dance?" I asked in lieu of a reply. He stared at me for a long moment and then pulled his tie off, laying it on the table before undoing the top couple buttons of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves.
"If I dance with you, will you answer my questions?" he asked, sliding out of his seat. My smirk only grew at the question as I followed his lead to stand.
"If you're good enough, I'll answer anything," I replied. He smiled and took my hand, leading me back to the dancefloor to take me up on my challenge. I laid my hand on his hip, starting out at an arm's length distance from him as I began to move to the music. I let my eyes fall most of the way closed, once more letting the music take over my mind and body. Under my hand I could feel the way he moved and smiled a bit to myself, the man had rhythm and knew how to move his body with it. By the time the next song started, he'd managed to pull me right up against him.
"What's your name?" he whispered, leaning down to be close to my ear. I snaked my other hand up his chest to drape it around his neck, holding his head close so I could speak without having to yell over the music.
"Trane, Trane Thott," I said, leaving my hand around his neck but releasing the pressure of keeping it bent. I gasped slightly as I felt his lips brush my neck.
"What a beautiful name," he whispered, letting his lips brush my ear as he spoke. "How old are you?" I shivered involuntarily despite the heat pouring off his body and all the others on the dance floor. Something about his low voice and the way his lips brushed my skin had my body melting into the hands that he hand resting on the small of my back.
"Nineteen," I said softly, letting my hips grind into his. I was rewarded with a soft groan and let a smile slip onto my face. Despite not having been looking for anything, I had a feeling I had found something good.
"Are you single?" came his next breathy question. My throat tightened for a moment, cutting off my answer. Unable to find my voice, I slid my hand into his hair and pulled slighly so that I could see his face again and then pressed my lips to his. In an instant he had pulled me so that I was flush against his body, fully engaged in a deep and passionate kiss. Just as our bodies ceased to move with the music, I felt a tug at my ponytail. I ignored it, thinking that the stranger's hands had gotten tangled up in it as his hands slid over my back.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you fucking whore?" an all too familiar and all too terrifying voice whispered loudly in my ear. My entire body froze as my eyes went wide with shock and fear. I let out a shriek of pain as I was dragged by my hair from the dance floor, leaving a surprised and worried blonde man standing there, staring after me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized that I was on my own to deal with my crazy, abusive ex-boyfriend.
"Who gave you permission to go around kissing other men, Trane?" he growled, slamming me against a wall in the alley just outside the club. I groaned as my head banged painfully against the bricks and started to glare at him.
"I don't need permission, Syko," I whispered hotly. "I'm not yours anymore!" I slapped at the hand that was pressing on my chest, trying to remove him from my person. My head whipped to the side as the back of his hand connected with the side of my already bruised face.
"You're mine until I'm through with you, not the other way around!" he shouted, sliding his hand from my chest to my throat and pressing harder. I gasped as my breath was cut off, my eyes going wide. As his hand slid into the waist of my jeans, I began to thrash, kicking and scratching at him. I whimpered as he slammed me into the wall again to stop my fighting.
"Stop, please, Syko!" I cried hoarsely. I closed my eyes as I willed my body not to respond to the way he touched me, but he knew me well enough to know just where to touch that my body wouldn't listen to me. "Stop! Quit touching me! I'm not yours!" Tears were flowing in a steady stream down my face now, my hands still clawing at the hand wrapped around my throat. My head slammed into the wall again and again, causing stars to float into my vision. Even still, I had no intentions of letting him have my body again.
"I believe Trane asked you to stop," said a voice I didn't expect to hear again. I turned my eyes to him, happy that he had followed, but petrified to what Syko would do to him now. I opened my mouth to tell him to run, but Syko's hand clenched my throat tighter in anger at being interrupted by the person I had been making out with when he'd found me. My eyes bugged as my air was cut completely off now, my nails digging desperately at the hand restricting my breathing.
"Oh, so my little whore has found himself a knight in shining armor. How utterly sickening," Syko mocked. "You need to learn to but out, blondie, before you get hurt. This little bitch is mine despite what he might think to the contrary." The stranger crossed his arms over his chest, regarding my ex with quite the incredulous glare. I couldn't help but wonder what was pissing him off more, that he'd been called blondie or that our little make-out session earlier had been so rudely interrupted.
"I'm sure it was comments like those and the violent way you're handling him that created his desire to be rid of you," the older man said coldly. He moved closer his hand moving to reach for me. He may not have succeeded in getting a hand on me, but he did manage to get all of Syko's attention as I fell to the ground, gasping for the air I had been deprived.
"I told you Trane was mine, you pompous asshole," Syko snarled, pulling something shiny out of his coat pocket. For the second time tonight, I shrieked, immediately realizing it was the switchblade he always carried. "Now I'll make you pay for thinking you could take something of mine!"
"Run!" I screamed at the blonde, knowing that Syko had killed people for simply looking at something of his the wrong way. He considered me his, even after I'd told him I was done with him, and I'd been kissing someone else. The blonde ignored my warning, only uncrossing his arms to prepare for the fight that was coming. "Syko, stop!" I screamed, jumping to my feet and grabbing the arm that held the knife in it.
"Get off of me, whore!" he yelled, slinging his arm outwards. I hadn't had any sort of grip on hip, so I slid away as he slung his arm out, the knife in his hand sliding up my torso as I fell away from him. I hit the wall, my eyes going from glaring at my ex to staring in disbelief as they turned down to look at my body. The shirt I had been wearing had been cut completely open and blood was beginning to pour from the gash he'd carved into my flesh.
"Trane!" I heard the stranger yell just before my world faded to black and I collapsed to the ground.