New Girl - FINNEAS

https://youtu.be/a06MpBob08E

you wanna play with fire?

stick and poke tattoo?

you wanna play, my new girl?

i wanna play with you

i officially present: playing with fire.
~ let's start this bitch ~

The ground swayed beneath my feet. The atmosphere was as intoxicating as whatever I had to drink a little while ago. Music drowned any form of coherent thought that attempted to enter my mind, forcing me to focus on the spare seat at the front of the bar as my only goal. Then I could sit and... I don't know what. But I would hopefully be more steady. The bartender glanced quickly at me when I reached my destination and collapsed tiredly into the seat, regretting ever coming.

I opened my mouth to order a lemonade, something that would hopefully bring me out of my currently groggy state, but a voice cut me off. It was low and almost dangerous, but turned upward in a cocky tone.

"Something strong, same for her."

I snapped my head around to face the owner of such a voice. He sat two seats along and faced the table, not looking up. The faintest of smirks played on his lips, drawing them up slightly. His hair was spiked, though some loose strands framed his face and lined his forehead. The guy wore a leather jacket tied around his waist. And despite how insanely cold it was, he just had a red shirt on, leaving his toned arms bare. I watched in curiosity, the striking appearance and contradictory tone drawing me in. Neither of us said anything for a stretch of time, though I was unsure for how long exactly.

The bartender placed two glasses of a foggy liquid between us, the clinking against the granite table finally clicking my brain into working-mode again. The nameless guy who still held my attention looked up. The only feature of his that registered in my mind were his eyes, they were strangely bright, like mini-fires or glowing orbs. He held my gaze for a beat too long, his smug expression only deepening as I realised I was staring. He reached for his glass and took it in a loose grasp, glancing at me again before downing it in one.

I didn't say anything and neither did he, though he did turn around and lean his elbows against the counter. I turned my head to face the bench in embarrassment, focussing on the drink in front of me. My fingers fiddled aimlessly with the glass and I expected him to leave.

He didn't.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. I watched it light from the side of my vision, though I didn't see nor hear a lighter. The smell of cigarette smoke clouded my senses further while the silence grew almost unbearable. "You shouldn't smoke," I blurted, eyes yet to leave the glass in my hands. "It's bad for your health. Decreases... life span," I finished pathetically, trailing off with uncertainty. I really should have listened more in school when they did the whole 'do not smoke' lesson. Or I could just stop talking, another option.

He exhaled, blowing smoke from his lips still curled into a smirk, now amused with my evident nervousness. "Yep," he said nonchalantly, bringing the cig to his lips again. What kind of an answer is that?

I finally turned to face him, and he tilted his head slightly towards me in response. We made eye contact again, and his eyes were brighter than before, if that was even possible. I immediately grew insecure under his intense eye contact and squirmed. For some reason however, I was unable to break his stare. Eventually, I spoke again, becoming more aware that he would not spark a conversation when seemingly having immense fun watching me. "What's your name?"

"What does it matter?" He responded tiredly, sighing slightly. His eyes dropped from mine, breaking whatever bond the contact had maintained. Dejectedly, he breathed out his breath of smoke.

"I just wanted to know," I shrugged, defending my thinking half-heartedly.

He chuckled, but it was sad and filled with an emotion I could only place as longing. "Yeah, knowing gets old-" He looked as though he wanted to say more, but thought better and shook his head.

Curiosity got the better of me as I watched him. His expressions changed every second to a point of me no longer understanding which was true to how he felt; if he felt anything at all. He flicked the ash off the cig and I scrutinised his motions with a serious gaze. Who was this person?

"I can't figure you out," I wondered aloud as I clicked my tongue.

"Don't bother, no one can," he said shortly. "Well, one could." He stopped there, not saying more. I was tempted to prompt him, though I doubted it would be successful in gaining me answers. I decided against it but took note of the past tense of 'could' all the same.

"You come here often?" I questioned, changing the subject.

"Not particularly, it's been more of a recent occurrence," he responded quickly, his words lacking any form of emotion. He was either uninterested or distracted.

"Why?"

"Atmosphere is drowning," he shot back.

"In what way?" I continued, analysing his little movements. I don't know why I was so intrigued by this person but I was.

He kept up whatever game we were playing. "Depends on what you're looking for."

"Is everything you say meant to be cryptic?" I finally asked, admitting defeat. I didn't know how to read him or even talk to him.

"Not everything makes sense," he reasoned, shifting from the counter. He distinguished the heat from the smoke with his fingertips, and I cringed at what I expected to be his pain. If he did feel anything however, he didn't show it. Dropping the cigarette, he crushed it under the heel of his foot and it got lost amongst the busy bar. "Well," he sighed, "nice meeting you, I guess."

He got up to leave and I couldn't help but be surprised and a little hurt by his abrupt wish to leave. I wanted to continue speaking to him. Not that anything we had said thus far was progressive in terms of a successful conversation. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To find somewhere else to get lost."

If I was going to argue against his exit, I didn't get the chance. He was gone faster than I could open my mouth to convince him otherwise. I sat for a moment in shock, trying to process our conversation and my emotions.

And soon I was going after him.

I pushed through the people crowding in the bar. My drink went untouched, not that I had planned to have it anyway. My lightweight self had enough as it was. Eventually, I managed to shove my way to the door and was hit with a wave of fresh, cool air upon my face. I breathed in deeply, savouring the refreshing change of atmosphere before glancing right and left.

Surprisingly, he was right beside the entrance. Yet-to-be-named guy leaned against the brick wall, another cig in his hand. I raised my eyebrows and trod carefully towards him.

"Don't look so lost to me," I noted with a jut of my chin.

He glanced up, though it wasn't in the 'oh you surprised me' way, more of a 'hello again' way. "I never said how I would get lost," he clarified, not that it made much more sense than anything else he had said tonight. The guy turned and began to walk down the concrete sidewalk.

I jogged forward a few paces to catch up. Soon we were walking side-by-side, slowly—almost leisurely—and still saying nothing. Unlike myself, he seemed quite comfortable in the silence. I was certain there was a reason for this, though I had no clue as to why exactly. Not yet.

"Who are you?" I asked, a challenging lilt to my voice, like it was less a question and more a dare.

He didn't answer for a while. Instead, he took a long drag of his cigarette and then breathed out lethargically towards the dark sky, the city surrounding us removing any vision of the stars somewhere up there also. "You don't want to know who I am," he said without emotion, not faltering to provide another cryptic response.

"Do you know who you are?" I countered with equal swiftness, no longer playing his game of questions and cryptic-answers. That made him falter a beat, faltering, and I almost cheered in triumph. Got'em. "Maybe a better question is, 'do you want to know?'"

He paused, feet halting in their place. His hands remained in his pockets and his eyes lit up, just for a split-second. The light, gone before it could properly register in my mind, was reminiscent of a fire. He didn't respond for a while, biting his lip in what I assumed to be was consideration. I took the opportunity to further take in his face, having only just noticed the scar that ran along it. Unlike most typical, 'villain scars' that ran through one's eye, this one wasn't scary or intimidating. It held pain, that much was evident- but this guy, whoever he was, wasn't going to hurt me. I knew it.

"You are more difficult to figure out than I thought," he eventually admitted, cleverly avoiding the question.

"Ditto," I smiled, taking it as a compliment regardless of how it was intended.

After another break in our conversation, it was he who spoke this time. "Well then, 'who are you?'"

I considered my response for a moment, weighing up my possible responses. I could be super cryptic just for my own satisfaction. In the end I decided with honesty. "My name is Y/n," I responded.

"And why is it that you are out here tonight, Y/n?" He switched our game, sneaky bastard.

My eyes flickered and for some reason, I felt like telling him everything. Trust seemed to well up inside of me and it was bursting to be let out with all of my pent up emotions. I didn't let it, but I did let myself be that little bit cryptic. This time, for my own sake rather than his. "This way, I'm overlooked with reason."

The guy's head turned to me and I could feel his gaze watching me. I didn't turn, didn't make eye contact- just stared, head forward, not focussed on anything but able to navigate my feet with sense.

"We might not be so different," I heard him say quietly. I bit my lip and eventually met his eyes once more, their inconsistent yet comforting brightness back, lighting up his amber orbs.

The expression he wore was possibly the most authentic I had seen yet. It wasn't a smirk, nor cocky, but it wasn't deathly-serious and emotionless either. His face was gentle, lips slightly turned down in a mix of emotion, mostly undecipherable. His eyes were bright and intelligent, they held visions I knew I could never even dream- whether that was for better or for worse, I was unsure. The chip in his resting eyebrow, left by a now-healed scar made me wonder exactly what this person had seen. My thoughts were interrupted when he opened his mouth once more.

"Can I ask you one last question?" He asked in a low, soft voice. He stopped with a final step, turning to face me, though his gaze did not. He looked to my left, only just missing eye contact. I stopped with him.

"Shoot," I challenged. I raised my eyebrows as I watched him with curiosity.

His eyes shot up back to mine and I reacted by finding them in a split second. This eye contact was strong and powerful and slightly overwhelming, yet addictive. I would hold it as long as he would allow me.

"Can I kiss you?"

My response was natural, the answer on the tip of my tongue despite my surprise at such a random question. I bit the inside of my cheek as I summed up exactly what I had learnt about this boy in our limited interaction. Admittedly, not much. But I knew that I was comfortable and something in my gut told me that I didn't need to be scared. So, I trusted it and him.

"Yes."

•🔥•🔥•🔥•

Kai knew what he was doing. He was perfectly aware that he didn't know the girl. He was perfectly aware that he was not sober. He was perfectly aware that his behaviour was self destructive. He just didn't care. If anything, he welcomed the shift. Anything was better than thinking... even being intoxicated and sweet-talking a total stranger.

Maybe that's why he asked to kiss her. At least, that's what he told himself.

However, what he refused to accept and in that, denied entirely, was that there was something else about Y/n. Kai felt it the moment he saw her sitting unsteadily at the bar. It was almost... an urge. To be with her, to talk to her, to know her, to understand her. For that split second of time, the boy wanted nothing more than to speak to her. Why? He wasn't sure. And very recently, Kai had learnt that the things he doesn't know are the things that haunt him the most. So, he chose to give no time to them. No thought, no emotion, just- leave them behind.

Though, try as he might, he couldn't seem to totally abandon this unknown, not yet. Kai didn't know what he was doing, but by the time he was somewhat aware, he was already at the bar, watching her from the side of his vision. Shocked by such quick movements, he ordered something in a desperate attempt to grasp back his control. He didn't like not knowing why he felt this way. More so, he didn't like not knowing why he was struggling to forget these thoughts. If there was anything he had learnt lately, it was how to not think.

Downing the drink in one, he let the burn tingle his throat as he swallowed and allowed himself to feel it, savour it. It didn't feel good, necessarily, but it was what he needed to feel. If only it lasted.

Kai would be lying if he said that he was as calm and put-together as he appeared to the girl once they began conversing. He knew his exterior- unfeeling. It was comforting, that at least half of him could appear the way he wanted to. Still, he did his best to maintain his composure.

So, when she started asking more questions and he started answering faster, taking less time to consider his answers and in doing so, taking less time to recognise how much was actually saying, Kai realised that something was wrong. Nothing felt wrong, if anything, things felt more right than they had since recent events. But something had to be wrong- his answers were revealing too much. And if he started talking then he would start feeling and nobody was prepared to handle that. Not this girl, whoever she was, and especially not him.

If only his escape from the conversation and the bar as an entity was as easy as he would have liked. She followed with a motive Kai was unable to place. And by the look on her face, she seemed just as confused and disoriented as his. He didn't question it, merely pulled out a cigarette; grasping on one of the few things he had discovered grounded him.

And before he knew what was happening, before Kai was able to exactly understand who she was or what he was feeling or why they were even together in the first place, he had his hands in her hair and she had hers around his neck. His cigarette was discarded on the ground, crushed by his heel, forgotten just as logical thought had been.

And he felt. Kai felt the girl's lips on his and felt her heavy breathing as their connection intensified with every passing second. He felt his own lungs expand in his chest. He felt Y/n's back hit the wall and his hands find the bricks to steady himself, fingers grazing its rough surface. He felt, and it felt good.

It was only after time had passed—no one was sure how long—and Y/n had found his jaw with her hands, cupping his cheeks as she softened the kiss with her fingertips drawing senseless patterns along his face, did Kai come fully to his senses. His mind clicked back into what could resemble proper thought, and he realised the danger of feeling. Emotion threatened to break, this seemingly random experience becoming more and more significant. Kai's thoughts attempted to process what it was that had just occurred but the girl in front of him drew his attention back with another dip of her lips.

He closed his eyes momentarily, falling back into the fogginess that felt better than any cigarette, any amount of alcohol or its burn on his throat as he reciprocated.

But Kai forced himself out of the state and parted the kiss slowly, not totally prepared to break whatever was going on. He opened his eyes and found Y/n's, fluttering open as she also came to. He didn't let go, just let himself stand, pressed against her while she watched him with an expression that resembled adoration.

"Who are you?" She breathed, voice barely audible were it not for his heightened senses.

Kai knew he couldn't stay. He knew he couldn't answer such a question. He knew he didn't want to do or know or say anymore because he knew he didn't want to feel anymore. He pulled back, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry," he muttered, "but that's not a question I can answer."

The girl considered him and his answer confusedly, evidently still a little dazed. Her hands dropped from their grasp around him and she let him step away. "Will I see you again?"

Kai wanted to respond with an immediate confirmation. But he couldn't. "Who's to say?" He took another step backwards and allowed himself one last moment of peace. He admired her face, took in each feature, the way her eyes lit up with passion and intelligence like someone else he knew. Then, he looked away and refused to look back. His gaze found the ground instead. "I'm sorry," he muttered, guilt and overwhelming emotion working its way up his throat, driving him to swallow dryly.

If Y/n was going to respond, he didn't let himself hear it. Instead, he started walking forward and let himself drown in the atmosphere of the city, getting lost as he had intended. Only this time, his thoughts were consumed by someone different as his lips tingled and chest ached.

Kai squeezed his eyes shut tightly and found the cigarettes in his pocket, grasping the box with an unsteady hand.

What the fuck had he done?

•🔥•🔥•🔥•

I wasn't exactly sure what the fuck I had just done, so I simply sighed. I collapsed back against the brick wall exasperatedly and ran a hand through my significantly messier hair than what I had begun with earlier. Tired, I checked my phone and realised that it was almost reaching midnight and I should probably go home.

Looking around, it suddenly hit me that I only had a vague idea of where I was or why I was even here in the first place. Why was I here again? I sighed, noting the fact that I planned to go out for one hour at most, supposedly leaving enough time to continue my work. Screw my procrastination. I shoved my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and started down the road I hoped would leave me home.

Surprisingly, I did get home. Somehow I managed to navigate my way through the city, still relatively busy despite it being the early hours of the morning, and without any troubles.

However, here was where I reached my trouble. Sure I was an adult and I didn't technically have a curfew, but I did not need my coming home late (early?), evidently not sober to further my reputation as the failure child. There was no winning with my parents, they either considered me useless with no life or for maybe the first time ever, having too much of a life.

Love this family.

Dragging my hand down my face, I inhaled deeply then blew the breath out through my mouth. Fuck it. Here goes nothing.

I clicked open the door slowly and carefully, my anxiety lessening a smidge when it made little-to-no sound. I made it all the way to the fourth stair toward my room until things went south- I forgot about the creaky wood on this one.

I swear I have never heard a single plank of wood make so much goddamn noise in my life.

I flinched, inwardly groaning and staying perfectly still as I froze and waited. The silence drew out and I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the first spinjitzu mas-

"Y/n?!"

"Shit," I whispered to myself, my head dropping in defeat while I made my way up the remainder of the staircase to see my father, staring angrily at me. "Heyyy dad," I drawled with a plastered on smile, begging the gods to be on my side for once.

"Why are you awake?" He asked, crossing his arms as his glare intensified 'till I could practically feel the disappointment.

"Ummm, bathroom?" Even I didn't believe me.

"Fully dressed in the middle of the night?" He questioned with exasperation. My dad crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

My arms fell and I lost all motivation to defend myself even a little bit. "Yeah, okay, I'm going to bed. Talk to you in the morning." I resigned to my impending doom.

My dad nodded his head stiffly and turned on his heel, marching to sleep as I walked slowly and in annoyance. A sense of betrayal welled in my stomach. Way to abandon me, gods.

I collapsed into my bed, barely having time to change. Then, I crawled under the covers and flopped my head on my pillow, not looking forward to the lecture I would receive in the morning.

Even so, I couldn't bring myself to regret my decision to go out.

My lips still tingled as I closed my eyes.