*This art doesn't belong to me*

Coffee in hand, I pushed my way out the crowded doors of Café Ólta, the new spangled café-bar mix. It had never occured to me how similar the themes of cafés and bars were, until i saw the establishment. The only thing separating the smell of coffee and the smell of alcohol and loneliness was a large sliding door with dark stained glass. Beautiful ebony wood furniture, dark walnut colored seats, tinted windows, white marble flooring. So cliché, but so amazing.

Despite being catcalled by the many early-morning drunkards, I quite enjoyed being there.

Standing against the doorway, a very attractive young man leaned, eyeing the many people in the café. Wearing a trenchcoat and matching fedora, I wondered how he managed not to be escorted out by security. With a sigh, I made my way to the door, successful enough to almost leave without being noticed.

Almost.

Tipping his hat, he pulled out a large, red rose from his jacket pocket. "Excuse me," he asked in a deep, raspy voice. The stench of cigars hit me as he leaned closer. "I couldn't help but notice how lovely you are, so please, accept this rose."

I eyed the flower, being almost drawn to the perfection. I would love to paint that. Even though I knew it would only make my situation worse, I took the rose, careful not to prick myself with the thorns.

The man started following me out the door, pulling out another rose, however, it was blue. "My dear, how would you like another rose? I have plenty."

As if I wasn't already uncomfortable, that made everything worse. Again, I felt it pulling me in, but I held back, walking away faster. "No thank you!" I called out, hoping he'd get the message.

After a few moments of me speeding down the street, I glanced behind, seeing nothing. I hesitated in slowing my pace, but a strange exhaustion washed over me.

~~~

Home sweet home.

The fear of something being in my house lingered, to the point of me backing myself into a wall.

1

A shiver tickled my spine.

2

That rose smells really nice. Why do I smell it from so far away?

3

A sound of creaking. Like a bed when someone sits on it. I took several deep breaths, listening for more creaks.

4

Knock on wood for that torturous, childish fear to leave. Unlike before, though, my heart felt much lighter, as if it were working against my brain.

5

"Quartz!" Raspy, deep, seductive; it was the voice of the man. I glanced at the rose. A grin stretched onto my face, excitement taking hold of me.

He changed from when I last saw him. At least 7 feet tall, the very attractive man lost most of his face, pale as a blank canvas. Sharp nails grew from his long fingers, blade-like teeth nearly prevented his mouth from closing, despite the fact his mouth was way big for his face.

Sitting there on my tiny bed, his long coat covered just enough to raise my heart rate.

I couldn't seem to control myself. One second, someone was on top of me, the next, he was gone. As if I imagined the past few minutes, nothing was there.

How could I have hallucinated that?