a dance with the devil

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TW// anxiety, sexual harrassment

Jo stumbles over her own two feet, despite my arms propping her up. She's a mess but she doesn't look the part. As we make our way back downstairs again, I realize this is the best I've felt all night. A blissful moment. So exhilarating. So light.

So temporary.

By the time we get to the foot of those stairs, she'll be out of my arms, into her own little world, and there's nothing I could do about it because we're not in a place where we can just tell each other what to do. We're not in a situation where we could let our walls crumble and consume ourselves in the other person's life. Jo is more than capable of doing that, but I don't want to risk making her feel like she got more than what she'd bargained for. Once I even consider allowing her a peek past the steel walls I built for myself, I can't promise I'll let go of her so easily.

We're terrible for one another. We'll both be the ultimate damning of each other. It's moments like this when I realize it's getting more and more difficult to not completely immerse myself in her. But I don't want to make it even worse by letting her immerse herself in me.

The dreaded moment arrives where she untangles herself from my arms and I have to act like the warm feeling I had didn't just disappear when her hands left my body. "Thanks for not, like, letting me fall down the stairs," she slurs, her arms sway back and forth by her sides, like they've lost all form of control and now they're just limp.

"As hilarious as that would be, you'd crack your head open and I don't want your blood staining the floors," I retort. The words I want to say to her, but can't, are lodged in my throat, being pushed down by the constant need to taunt her. I wish she didn't feel the need to thank me for helping her out, but most of the time I'm a dick to her.

She laughs and shoves her middle finger in my face, using the little control she has over her body. I grab her wrist and force that hand back down to her side.

Our laughter ceases when a shadowed figure comes up beside us. We simultaneously turn to face Serenity, arms crossed and fuming. Of course the universe couldn't let me have a single bit of light in my life. Something always has to pop up. In this case it's taken the form of a hazel-eyed brunette who wants the blue-eye blonde out of my life for good.

Serenity gives us a tight lipped, incredibly forced grin before interlocking our arms, making it a point to look Jo right in the eyes as she does so. "Come on babe the countdown is going to start soon," she hisses. Jesus, was she always this catty? I don't remember her ever being so adamant on staking a claim on me. Maybe this newfound attitude is a result of using Jo to make her jealous. Or she's just being a bitch.

Right before she guides away with her angry grip on my arm, I turn my attention back to Jo, who would appear unaffected if it weren't for the subtle way she bites down on the inside of her cheek. "Slow down with the drinks," I warn.

Jo tilts her head with a dull look in her eyes. "Fine," she huffs like a toddler and stomps off to god-knows-where.

"What did you guys do up there?" Serenity inquires with venom laced in her voice.

"Nothing," I grunt. We did a painful amount of 'nothing'. I wish we would have done something. Hell, I'm surprised I had the willpower to make sure nothing happened.

"You already broke the one condition I had to give things another try, don't make it worse by having the audacity to fucking lie to me," she spits out as if the drop in her tone is somehow supposed to intimidate me. She's made herself crystal clear on how serious she is about this topic, I just don't give a fuck.

For the sake of not infecting my life with even more drama, I bite my tongue. I could be nice and tell her to fuck off, but I'd only be taking the easy way out and I'd be back to square one: alone and all the more reason to start messing around with Jo. "I only told her to get herself together and stop acting like a dumbass."

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