Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 22. 2024.
Getting into the club wasn't hard. The bouncer had recognized her right away and let her in. She wasted no time in getting her drinks at the bar.
On her first night here, she and Kat figured out that she gets drunk on the third shot of Vodka. She was aiming to go past that, but on her second shot, she catches the catlike golden eyes of her frenemy, dancing over her frame.
Vincent is wondering if it's just luck or pure luck that he finds this girl here. He hadn't planned on putting effort into the game he and his friends play. They're just stupid dares. However... It doesn't hurt trying does it? He thinks. Still, he doesn't move an inch from where he stands across the room, sipping his rum punch and eying her.
She picks up her shot glass and eases away from the bar, strutting naturally in his direction. He's surprised as he watches her firm approach and he relaxes, releasing a breath and lounging in the cresent couch. She throws back the rest of her second shot and puts the glass down on a random table.
"What's the occasion?" He asks as soon as she's close enough.
"I didn't have one." She responds hovering. "Now, I want to make you my occasion."
"Bold." He swallows slowly, trying not to show that she has him stunned. His eyes wander her face in bewilderment and his mouth moves before he knows what he's saying, "I still think you're boring." It comes out airy and obviously dazed.
She puts her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward and pressing him further into the couch. She suggests, "Let's experiment."
"What?" He manages to ask clearly, frowning with a twisted smile. "Are you drunk?"
"I'm not." She says truthfully. She hadn't drunken fast to be feeling the effects of the alcohol now and, even if she was, she'd only be tipsy. "Don't make me look like I'm begging." She states flatly, pulling away from him as he stares up at her wide-eyed.
She's about to turn away from him and go sulk alone from the shit she has to carry on her shoulders tonight. Nothing she tried before is working to help her find herself and she doesn't think she'll ever make it back after the story she was told by her best friend's boyfriend. She wants one last shot at relief, but she hates strangers and Vincent's familiar face was a delight. Nonetheless, if she has to plead with him to have her, she'd rather gut herself. Luckily, she doesn't have to do either, because he grabs her forearm, stopping her from disappearing into the now overcrowded dancefloor.
"I won't tell." He promises vaguely, but it is vivid enough for her. He may be the embodiment of arrogance, however, he's keen and he sees that she wasn't just asking for a good time. "Lead the way."
Alessia takes his hand and guides him out the back to her car. She moves some things from the backseat to the front and tells him to get in.
When she climbs over him, Vincent is in trouble. The moon is full and bright. It catches her form that's straddling him, through the windshield. Her white hair comes alive, glowing, while the sequins on her small dress shimmer, added that the car smells lightly of passion and blood. Now Vodka.
He pictures her as a goddess getting ready to devour him as she rips his black, buttoned formal shirt open, sliding the long sleeves down his toned arms. When he inhales, it feels like he's drowning in lust, watching her draw near to his lips. In that short span of seconds, he wonders what she'd taste like.
It isn't pure. The moment their mouths touch, they've become alcoholics. Him to white rum and her to bourbon. It's wild and frantic, unfocused, but enticing. He doesn't know if she's feeling the same, but Vincent never thought he'd ever want to kiss her this bad, until he's kissing her and it's like he is being given something he has been wanting for eternity.
It's like he's being blessed...by a killer.
And, as much as he'd love to bend her over, she seems to be dominating him. Then, she pulls away, pushing him back when his torso raises off the seat.
His chest rises and falls visibly in the quiet and he inquires lightly. "Is something wrong?"
"My inexperience." She says.
She's serious. He was hoping she wasn't a virgin, but apparently her godsent body is against him. He isn't one to break hymens, but he doesn't want to push her away just because she hasn't been penetrated before. Vincent doesn't even have to think about it. He knows what he needs to do. She needs this.
"I'll be gentle."
She peers at him through slits for eyes, then...
...she smiles?