Love Fool
A/N: So... DTMBIY guize. I can't make up my mind in where to go with my characters. OTL I am sorry. Here is something short to make up for the long wait.
I'd lost most interest in society, my love for books blinding me from reality. Their portrayals and guidance always enthralled me more than anything, but when I finished the last page, the last sentence, the final word, I was only filled with negative feelings.
Maybe that's what made me love them. Although they pained me in the end, before I reached it, they gave me more pleasure than any human had.
I remember always wishing for sentimental values and relationships with people, but now all I wanted was a quick fix.
With an intricate mask for my aberrant personality, it's a quick game into someone's bed.
I've never had to go through life-changing events like the protagonists in my books, but it was out of sheer disdain for others.
I could never help but analyze and construe anyone in observant ambit. From their clothes to how they gesture, they denote themselves into their own categories.
And me being the spectator I was, would shift into the spectacle for my plunder.
She was negligent, sitting beside a scrawny man who screamed asinine as he vitiated her gleam of being.
His almond eyes wandered about her bodily proportions, scoring them shamelessly Strangers.
The girl nervously backed away, and being the kind soul I was, sauntered up, "Excuse me-" "Excuse me-"
Another girl appeared, I quickly sized her up. Her dress whoringly short, high black pumps, red hair cascading around her shoulders. Without a second thought I looked back up at the bony man, but so did she, "Please leave."
Exact same line, we eyed each other as the man also eyed us. It was apparent we were both strangers to the smaller girl between us and it would evidently become survival of the fittest, the sorely unattractive man clearly deeming already unfit.
I grinned and eyed her derisively, "Nice dress, where's the rest of it?"
The other girl glanced at my bleached hair and matched my gaze with a taunting grin, "Nice hair, does the carpet match the drapes?"
Oh, she was a fine one, "For a pretty girl you sure have a loose mouth," I widened my grin, "but I'm sure that's not the only loose hole you have."
She grimaced, I smiled, and the girl between us became even more perceptibly uncomfortable as she slid quietly out of her chair, taking a quiet escape. A Pyrrhic victory on my part.
"Did it hurt?" She looked at me sympathetically, but it was amusingly obvious how fake it was, "When you squeezed out of an ass and fell in a toilet?" Her triumphant smirk was rather fun to watch
"I know a bird of a feather when I see one, how 'bout a drink?" A persuasive smile for you
"I'd rather sip cyanide than drink with you." Her tough front was almost as convincing as her faux disinterest, which wasn't very convincing at all
"Suit yourself, Little Mermaid." She got even more pissed off. Adorable
"And who are you supposed to be? Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan?" Her grimace only progressed cutely, her childish features didn't suit such a snide remark
"I was actually going for the Malfoy look, but if you fancy dysfunctional blondes..." I shifted towards her suggestively and she scoffed, clearly distressed with herself and taking her anger out on me
She was about to say something again, but stopped. I raised a brow, curious. But she looked back to the dance floor and walked away with her head slightly hung
I tapped the counter and ordered a shot A new book
Behind the narrator is a person, behind the protagonist is the same person, and every other character was another characteristic of the author. Like facets of a diamond, Jessica examined every shape, shine, and detail until she was satisfied. Consequentially, she won't let this woman pass until she's discovered her true value.
*
Said prey donned black lacy pumps caressing her feet that night; what poor limbs. Her black dress stopped at the usual appropriate length to announce "screw me"; and oh how I would love to etch that woman's face in ecstasy across the canvas of my mind, and possibly my bedroom walls if I were to truly go insane.
Her skin tone was imperially pale, complemented by soft round cheeks and expressive eyes, the aesthetic appeal designed for royalty. A true princess, if only her overly exuberant expressions could tone down to casual easiness. Her ego was bursting from the flick of her wrist, indicating her veiled dominance.
She suddenly chuckled, her hand covering her mouth playfully as if she actually thought she could be any less attractive.
The princess began twirling her red hair while intently gazing at the dolt beside her. She's a practiced player, I could almost imagine her frolicking around the inane male roasting above a fire. It's painfully obvious that their relationship was as shallow as her shot.
Finally, the couple stood up and perversely strolled to the dance floor with light touches against each other's bodies.
I looked down at my drink, debating whether it'd be more thrilling to fuck her sober or inebriated. Taking a gander back up at the woman, I placed the cup back down. There's no way I'd miss out on every string if her being, just as much as she played the game, I played it better.
I grabbed a napkin and pen before scribbling down a few lines and sliding out of my seat.
Spying her new playful attitude, she must be enjoying her easy catch. As she twirled, the guy's eyes shimmered in delight before I stepped perceptibly close to her. I caught his eye and smirked, he examined my facial features as I crept around the girl and slipped past him, discreetly pushing the napkin into his back pocket.
With the deed done, I grabbed the closest single man near me and pressed into his sweaty body, camouflaging.
I watched the other man with keen eyes as his face paled when he peeked at the napkin. Mission accomplished.
The princess glanced at him perplexed before he scurried away and voluntarily opened up my opportunity.
I couldn't help laughing and abruptly ditching the male in front of me, I made my way behind her through all the crazy dancers and held her wrist, "Looks like you scared him away."
She flinched upon my voice and craned her head backwards, scowling at me, "I knew it couldn't be my fault, what did you do?"
I couldn't help cracking a smile, "You mean you haven't been warned of the venereal diseases going around?"
I can imagine her veins popping out in frustration as she bared her teeth, "The only disease here is you!" She quickly turned out of my hold, seething I presume. She held a menacing gaze before she stepped forward, wrapping her fingers around my neck, I knew she'd be the domineering type.
She pulled me forward, "What are you trying to do?"
Softly smiling, I put my hand over hers, lightly rubbing against her knuckles, "Exactly what you think I'm trying to do."
I held her hand on my neck so she wouldn't choke me, and as expected, her fingers tightened the moment I leaned forward. I paused just in front of her lips and felt her suck in air, readying.
Waiting just a moment's time to take in her features up close, I pressed my lips against hers lightly at first, knowing she'd want more than just a touch.
The hand on my neck slid through my grasp and into my hair, clutching it tightly and bringing me forward. She was getting aggressive again, but my hand was now on her wrist, letting me feel her quickening pulse.
It felt more exciting than usual, especially since it was a kiss well fought for. Her lipstick had an addictive taste to it as well, and I must've looked funny with it smearing across my face.
I slid my tongue into her mouth without warning, enjoying the feel of her breath hitching.
A love game, a poor love game. I can already tell she won't let this live, but she won't let it die either. The way she pulls in and out frantically, mentally hesitating. She's coming to acknowledge just how much she was caught, but just as much as she played herself out for me, I played out more of myself for her.
With a gasp she pulled back, her eyes wide and searching as she stared into mine. Her lips moved, her lipstick noticeably smeared, "What are you doing?"
I leaned into her ear, "Playing the antagonist to your game of pick up sticks." And maybe if I had said something else that night, I wouldn't have earned myself the sentimental value and beating I wasn't looking for.
Her hands left burning trails, her lipstick staining more than just my lips. Her pages kept flipping, but I suddenly became illiterate beneath her own hidden gaze.
My aberrant personality became her sandbox as she realized my mask was her mask. And the more she discovered, the more I should've ran. She pieced me together like a broken mirror, finding herself in myself.
A book that never ended, or at least that's what I wished for. But every book came to an end, every author put down their pen. Just as much as I had wanted to run, Tiffany ran.
We didn't like each other, or at least that's what we'd say. In all honesty, we didn't like ourselves.
Playing a game for fools, in the falling action we'd tease, "You can't blame the bitch for playing the game."
Ironic how I had dubbed her the Little Mermaid back then. I should've killed her*. Now the knife was in my own throat.
I was a fool, I was a love fool.
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Note: In the original Little Mermaid, the mermaid could've slayed the prince with a knife given to her by the Sea Witch to survive.