In a dark corner, sitting in a dusty sad chair, I wait for you. The barman, gaunt and old with a white beard, was cleaning a glass with an old rag. He’s been at it since I walked in.
The place is almost empty, saved for three tables. One, occupied by a woman with long blond hair wearing a short loud red dress and her drunk client. Another was occupied by a regular, a man probably in his forties but his addiction has made him look older. I’ve always wondered how the man ends up in this forsaken place. Probably, the same reason as mine. And then there’s me, standing out amongst the rest, even if no one can see me in this dark corner.
I wore my long black coat, underneath it is a little black dress, one that I bought just for you. I am no drunk and yet I’m sitting at a bar far away from the city center, older than anything I’ve ever been. It was almost disgusting, but you were right, in here, no one will recognize us and we can be anyone who we want to be.
You’re late again, I don’t even know why I come on time. You’re always late and you don’t even try to make an excuse. I’ve been here for 15 minutes, sipping on a cheap red wine, but I wait patiently. This place is miserable, but the thought of seeing you just makes up for it. Finally, I hear the door opening and I peek your tall figure entering. Your dark hair is messy, as always. You flash me a smile as soon as you glanced at me, and you take my breathe away. For all the time you’ve given me that smile, it is yet to fail to make my heart skip a beat.
You kissed me on my cheek, “hey babe,” you said, lacing your fingers into mine and kissing them. “Hi,” I said huskily, I don’t mean to sound like that, but you’ve got power over me.
You asked me if I was ready and I said yes even though I wanted us to stay just for a few moments, to talk because we never talk.
We walked towards your car and as soon as we get in, we share a torrid kiss. “God, you’re amazing,” you commented as your fingers slips back and forth my legs. We drive farther and ended up in a motel in another town.
It was new to us, and I didn’t give a damn. You tore my dress as soon as you got hard. The fucking is always amazing with you. You blow my mind and I blow yours too. We can’t keep our hands from each other. You make me scream in a way no one has ever.
When we’re finish, you would light a cigarette as I lay my head in your chest. You’d play with my hair and I caress your stomach. We’d stay like that for a few minutes. Sometimes, when it’s a good day, I keep you for three or four hours. Often, by the end of your second stick, we’re done.
Your phone rings and you curse under your breath and so do I, in my mind. You stood up and scramble around as you look for your phone.
“Hello,” you answered
“Sorry, staying late again, don’t worry, I’m almost done. I’ll be home soon.”
“Yeah, I love you,”
I roll my eyes silently. We need to go, you said. I grudgingly followed you, dressing up. I asked you to zip me up, you kissed me in my shoulders, then my neck and turned me around to face you.
“I’ll make it up for you, I promise,” you said. I smiled and kiss you, believing you again.
She is the reason why we hide, why I end up in that desolate bar. She is the reason why you can’t be mine. I feel bad for her sometimes, does she know that your’re fucking someone else? Does she know that you beg me to do things to you? Does she?
But, you always come home to her and never with me. And yet, here I am, stupidly in love with you even if you’re truly not mine.
The above post is inspired by today’s prompt, Underground.