The Recluse

A searing headache pulsed through the young woman’s cranium, pain echoing through her every nerve and leaving her fingertips numb. She withheld a groan of anguish, her eyes fighting to focus on the room around her as her contacts floated back into position over her irises. Adeline found herself blanching with panic as she failed to recognize her surroundings, the room smelling overwhelmingly of tobacco and stale whiskey. She tried her best not to hurl.

A cold appendage was snaked around her bare waist, fingers lying lightly near her navel. More anxiety flooded through her veins as she continued working things out, the memories from the previous night seeming to have been hazed beyond recollection. Survival instincts kicked in as she stealthily crawled from the bed she had awoken in, nearly toppling over as a wave of nausea swept through her skull. A very familiar soreness ached her joints, and more color faded from Adeline’s cheeks. She could’ve guessed at what had gone down the night before by simply waking up unclothed, but she’d never been this sore after an evening of risque activity.

The lanky, pale man that she’d evidently slept with made a croaky, tired moan, and the tiny hairs along the young woman’s neck stood up on end. She slunk quietly around the bedroom in search of her clothes, trying her very hardest not to further disturb whomever she’d just laid. It was paramount that she do her walk of shame without having to speak further with this tattooed fellow. It was paramount that she not have to face the consequences of her actions. Adeline did not fear the vague embarrassment of having fucked someone she didn’t know - hell, this wasn’t the first time it had happened to her. She did, however, fear having to excuse herself from his apartment in a tactful manner.

By the time she traded the heels she’d worn to the club for some flats she kept in her purse, the man was beginning to rouse from sleep. Her heart leapt into her throat as she made a mad dash for the door, not even bothering to leave a note of some sort. She could hear footsteps coming from the other room just as she was opening the exit door, and her legs kicked into high gear as she sprinted from his place of residence and towards the nearest stairwell. Cursing as she ran, Adeline jammed her stilettos into her bag so as not to look quite as conspicuous as she snuck out of the building.

Back in the apartment, a tattooed man stared moodily at the door that had just slammed shut, knowing full well whom had just fled his apartment. He took a swig of bourbon from a small glass, fingers flexing in irritation. Andy skulked over to his living room window, peering down towards the sidewalk where a shrimpish young woman was getting into an ugly, yellow taxi cab. Eyebrows knitted together tightly, he watched the cab drive off down the street with his most recent lay. The consequences of having not been drunk the previous night were starting to weigh down on his recently broken heart, and a certain neediness ached painfully in his chest.

“... Fucking bitch,” Andy grumbled, downing the last of his whiskey as he collapsed into a faux leather chair, content to brood until the sun went down. Content to wonder where the woman was going. Content to wonder, not if, but when he was going to see her again.

And he would see her again, make no mistake.

Notes

Reposted and edited from the account "loserless". I was locked out and wanted to have all of my works on one account. Check out my other two stories if you like my writing and are interested in reading more! Leave a comment if you have the time.