You end up at a nightclub that isn't too far from your apartment, and you can hear the music clearly from the outside. Walking to the end of the line, 5 guys literally let you cut in front of them, and the only thing you did was breathe. You're sure that they're thinking maybe by letting you pass them that one of them can get something from you tonight. Sucks to be them because they're greatly mistaken.

Once you show the bouncer your ID, he lets you in. Thank goodness on Saturdays ladies get in free until 10pm, and you managed to get in right at 9:55. You quickly find the bar, and order two shots of Patron from the bartender you recognize as being a classmate. This is all you tonight. This is your celebratory drink for graduating from college with your bachelor's of science in human physiology. You worked your ass off for six years and you finally did it.

You take the two shots back in an instant, shaking your head as it burns its way down. Smiling, you ask the bartender to make you the drink Unicorn Kisses, and you take it gratefully once it's concocted. "Put these on a tab, please. I'll be coming back." You tell him, and he nods.

With your sparkling purple drink in hand, you squeeze your way through the crowd of drunk, sweaty people and find a spot on the dance floor. Sipping your drink, you lightly sway your hips to the song that's playing. They aren't playing anything that you particularly like, but once you start getting a few drinks in you, you'll pick up the pace and dance to anything. The dance floor fills up quickly, and now you're dancing with a group of random people. You have your drink in one hand and your phone in the other, making videos and posting them on your Snapchat. You add about 8 people onto your Snapchat and dance with about 10, the majority being girls.

Almost two hours into your night out, you've had two more drinks and six more shots. The reasonable side of yourself stops you from getting anything else because if you have one more drink, you probably won't remember the rest of the night. It's hard to keep up, but right now, you feel good. You feel like all that hard work you did was worth way more just to have a night out like this.

You've started dancing and singing along with every song on, whether you like the song or not. The alcohol has kicked into full gear and you're feeling yourself. You have guys trying to dance on you left and right, but you always maneuver your way around them and dance with a random girl. You're having the time of your life right now. Nobody can tell you shit about shit because you are the shit.

"You see that girl right there?" A man points at you quickly, asking the bartender.

The bartender nods, raising a questioning eyebrow. Again, he knows you from school, but he's not going to tell the stranger that. "Yeah, she's been here a little while. I think she may be done. Why?"

"Okay." The man pulls out a bill from his pocket. "I'm paying for her tab. Keep the change."

The bartender thanks the man, smiling as he takes the money. The man continues to watch you, admiring how you're dodging every drunk asshole trying to get to you, even while you're intoxicated. He smiles in your direction, but that slowly fades when he sees a guy getting too touchy.

You've been trying to get rid of this particular asshole all night. You finally snap around, your small frame sizing him up. You've had enough. "Look, I'm trying to enjoy myself. You need to back the hell up."

He smirks, sipping on his beer with his breath reeking of that and stale cigarettes. "Come on, baby. You've been dissing me all night."

"And for good reason, so go." You try walking around him, but he blocks you.

"Just rub up against my dick one good time, and I'll back off."

You mentally vomit, showing it in your face. "Eww, no you perv. Excuse me." You continue trying to move around the drunk man, but he suddenly grabs your wrist, too hard at that. "What the fuck, let me go!"

"Listen, I just wanna dance. Stop being a bitch and be a good little slut. Okay?" He growls and you genuinely feel scared.

"Hey babe. What's the problem here?" A man with a very deep and sexy voice comes up behind you, pulling you close to his side. You feel oddly safe with this random person, relaxing just a bit but still keeping your guard up. The drunk asshole lets your wrist go, and you rub it with your free hand. "Aye, man. Do we have a problem?"

The jerk puts his hands up in surrender. "Nah, we're good. Sorry."

The man snakes his arm around your waist and you just stand there, frozen. He begins to speak again. "Good. Because if you ever put your hands on my girl again, or any other woman for that matter, I'll break them myself."

The drunk bastard leaves without another word, and the man who just helped you breathes out a sigh. You're so grateful for this man helping you out of that awful situation. That could've gotten very ugly. He comes around in front of you, and you look up at him. His bright, pink  and, maybe a little blonde hair is slightly parted in the middle and it's kind of like... a mullet? His eyes are soft, but sharp and he has definitely captured yours in his gaze. His lips turn into a small smile as he lightly grabs your wrist to inspect it himself.

"Sorry I took so long. There's a lot of people in here. You okay? I know this is all a bit strange."

You nod, smiling back at him. "Thank you so much. That mother fucker has been bugging me all night."

"My pleasure. I've been seeing you ducking and dodging everyone in here tonight. I knew he was no exception."

"You've been watching me?" You ask, raising a perfectly arched brow. You're kind of concerned, but your drunken mind has you more intrigued than worried, seeing as how he came to your rescue.

He simply nods.

You continue to stare at each other. It's like you're not even in the middle of a hot ass club. The music sounds muffled and the bodies around you seem to disappear. Time almost completely stops for you. This feeling is different, and your intoxicated mind can't process it. Maybe it's just the alcohol. For some reason, you aren't uncomfortable; on guard, but safe. He's a very attractive man, too. He's got on a black v-neck t-shirt, with a cross necklace hanging around his neck. His all black jeans have the rips in them and his feet are clad in black and white Jordan's. He smells like Gucci Guilty cologne, and you're wrapped up in the scent.

You break yourself from the trance you were in momentarily and look away. Randomly, you remember you need to take care of your tab. "I, um- I should probably go pay for my drinks."

"Taken care of." He smiles. "I paid for your tab."

Your eyes widen and you can't help but to be surprised. "Wow, I-  t-thank you so much."

"Do you need a ride home?" He asks. "Feel free to say no. I can always call you a cab."

Do you want a stranger to take you home? Hell no.

"Yeah. I just live up the street, but I still don't need to be walking home alone. Intoxicated or not." You stumble on your words a little and mentally slap yourself. You really just agreed for a stranger to take you home? And you're intoxicated? Not the smartest choice you've recently made.

"Great. Are you ready to go now?" His voice really is something. It's so deep and smooth, like velvet.

"Yeah, we can go." You lead the way through the crowd to leave the club. Was it a smart idea to leave the club with a stranger? Absolutely not. Was it a smart idea to agree to have said stranger take you home? A big fat no. However, there was something about this stranger. He helped you out in the club when he didn't have to do anything. Hell, he even paid for your drinks. He isn't like other guys in that club, and you can pick up on that, even through your beer goggles.

When you reach his car, he opens the door for you and you slide in, thanking him. That's a new one. He gets in on his side, starts his car, and pulls out from the parking lot. You give him your address and he finds your place with ease. It was literally a two-minute drive. Stopping in front of your apartment building, he gets out of his car, comes back over to your side, and opens the door once more. He's such a gentlemen. What the hell was someone like him doing at a club?

The stranger walks you to your door, and you thank him. Not knowing what to do, you awkwardly extend your hand to shake. He gently grabs yours, pulling it up to his lips and softly pressing a kiss to the back of it. You're putty in this dangerous man's hands. "You have a good night,-"

"Y/n." You tell him.

"Y/n." You shudder at the way your name easily rolls off of his tongue in that deep, soothing voice you've begun to like in such a short amount of time. "Sleep well."

"Thank you so much, um?" You start, still not getting his name.

He chuckles, then licks his lips. He speaks up, his voice low and deep. His lips still near your hand, he gently plants another kiss to it. "You can just call me V."

For some reason, that lights a little flame inside of you, and he turns to walk away, not before biting his lip and winking at you. You have no idea that you'll be seeing V more often than you think.

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~S. xx