ODE TO THE MURDERED, bonten

02

PART TWO !
strawberry gentleman.

           THE NIGHTCLUB IS POURED IN SULTRY RED and you were bleeding liquor down your hazy veins.

    your drunken mind continues to wander, eyes darting to the bar alcohol between your fingertips and towards your roommate that's on the dance floor. the music rumbled into your bones, melting into fraying barebones. half-baked gingerbread boys and honeysuckle stiletto girls flaunted the center of the club, where they swayed amidst the heavy, stormy music and crowds like silver lining waves crashing down.

    you leaned back and watched Mars, in contrast to your charcoal dress, Mars is hugged by velvet satin that stops above her knees. red also paints the edge of her eyelids and the full of her lips as she sways with the crowd. her actions seductive and elegant, like a goddess sinned with red and a femme fatale of poise, catching the eyes of people that stood beside her.

    a sigh escapes your barely parted lips as you swirled the drink between your fingers, your spine kissing against the back of soft rich cushions. even though Mars was more beautiful tonight, unfortunately your entire attention wasn't on her, but on the man in pink that sat on the other velvety couch not too far from you.

    the said man was watching Mars as well but he had this orphic look in his eyes, you were looking at him between the corner of your champagne glass as you tilted it towards your lips.

    his hair is the color of taffy pink and styled in a mullet. unlike the rest of the crowd that dresses in revealing party attires, the pink-haired man is wearing a purple vest suite and satin dark pants that hug his narrow hips. even from this distance you can tell that the man is just as stunning as Mars, even with the way he was manspreading on the couch made him look narcissistically confident.

    he looked very beautiful, something that you like to admire from afar. as a painter with a knack for constructing arts—you loved excavating beauty found in the modern liveliness. dragging your gaze at the curves and contours of his said beauty and festering that as motivation for your painting session tomorrow.

    you paused when you felt your champagne glass empty, lifting your head and straightening yourself. your drunk eyes wander along the nightclub until you spot an attendant wandering hither thither like a butterfly across the room with a bottle of strawberry cocktail that you decided to indulge yourself with from the moment you stepped foot within the compound of the club.

    you beckoned the waiter with your hand and he immediately ushered to where you were, waiting until you had lifted your glass towards him as he poured the liquor down the glass concave in bitter red ocean to the brim. "thank you," you say briskly, letting your third glass of strawberry slip down your lips. your mind completely tripped when you felt someone behind you—behind the couch you sat—until he spoke.

    "sir, might want to fill my cup as well?"

    you and the previous servant stiffens when the man in pink suddenly fits himself comfortably on the empty space beside you, the couch sinks at his weight, bounces a little and for a moment your senses are washed by his sweet, expensive melon perfume. the servant's eyes widened a fraction and it quickly went as it came, he scurries helplessly towards the man and gently poured him the same drink you were having,

    "yes, boss." you hear the servant murmur which made you raise a brow at the man sitting beside you.

    "may i help you?" you cursed when your words dragged longer than it needed to. he turned to you and smiled, and that was when you noticed his vehement turquoise eyes framed underneath long, dainty lashes and that diamond-shaped scars tattooed at either side of his lips. well fuck.