We Are Rockstars.

by deej

Her heart is pounding in the cage of her ribs, beating like a drum.
She’s tearing her way through the streets, her eyes burning a pathway through the crowds and the piercing cold slaps against her cheeks.
You can feel the waves of fury emanating from her like a radiator in winter,
and only one word goes through her mind with every stomp of her stride.
Fuck.
Fuck.
fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck.
fuck
FUCK.
Fucking, FUCKING, FUCKING, fuck.
She keeps on going,
not stopping to apologize to anyone who bumps into her or stands in her way.
She doesn’t have time for this shit.
A woman yelps and raises her voice in alarm as she turns a sharp left and makes for the darkened alleyway.

She stops. her breath is harsh and quick. she looks at her watch to check the time.
1:01 am.
A minute late. There is still time for a cigarette; a formidable ally in her battle with the bitter cold
She sits on the concrete boulder and pulls her arms closer to her, settling.
Her hands shake as they reach into the inner pocket of her coat and she fumbles to bring the merciful stick to her lips, desperate for a drag.
Her fingers grapple with the lighter.
Give me the fucking fire.

“Here,”
A flame bursts before her illuminating her face as she stumbles back in shock.
She gains her composure, realising whom the flame belonged to. she glares at him, unblinking against the cold, as she accepts his flame’s warmth.
She inhales deeply, the nicotine rushes through her, filling her lungs and nulling the ache in her head she hadn’t realised was there.
He smiles, watching the change in the lines of her face with the intake of elixir. Her eyes never waver from his and glows a glint of red, reflecting the cherry of her cigarette.

“You’re welcome,” he smirks.
Her eyes squint in a scowl and she begrudgingly mumbles her thanks.
“You’re late, too.” his voice hints a question but her silence echoes through the alleyway.
She takes another drag and he sighs inwardly, moving to lean his back against the damp wall.
His eyes never leave hers.
They stand in silence for a long moment.
She’s watching him critically with her unwavering, untrusting gaze.
He’s enjoying every second of it, savouring every slight and subtle movement of her eyebrows and the corners of her lips as her mind wanders, wondering about him. He can see the unasked questions in her eyes as they watch him.
It all just seems slightly perverted.
She’s almost done with her cigarette when he backs off of the wall and takes a step toward her.
The spell is broken.
She springs up in alarm flicking her butt to the side, awaiting his move, ready to fight or flee.

He frowns, seeing her unease; irritation bubbles at the bottom of his belly, pooling.
“What? Have I done something to offend you, or something?
Because you’re being quite rude. You’ve not said anything at all, and just been glaring at me with your pretty eyes this whole time.”

Her eyes fill with mirth and they play on her lips. Her voice cracks, raw and scratchy against the silence.
“It’s only been five minutes.”
The smirk returns.
“Really? Looking into your eyes seemed like forever.”
“You really are quite the git, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you show me?”
She rolls her eyes and her arm twitches as she restrains herself from smacking the back of his head.
“Well for starters, you could have stopped staring at me like a dirty old man.”
“You could have asked me to stop, but you liked the attention too much.”
“There’s only one thing I willingly like about you, and even that, I have to pay for.”
He feels a pull in his belly. A blow to the ego. He has no more rebuttals.
“How much, then?”
She pulls out a roll of bills from between her breasts and holds it up to him.
“5oo quid”
He pulls from his pocket, Death in a little bag.
For a split second guilt wraps itself around his gut and he grips Death for just a little longer, reluctant to pass it on.
He holds his breath and lets go of the little magical bag, exchanging Death for the wad of funny paper.
He sees the calm in her eyes dissipate and the manic overtake.
She walks away and turns one final time, nodding her farewell.
He promises himself that she’s the last one.

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