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Asking an old man with missing teeth about the restrooms, he pointed to a door at the back, asking for twenty pennies. Mama urged me to hurry and join them as soon as I was done.
Rushing to the back, I found a narrow hallway leading to two closed doors.
After using the restroom, I washed my hands and stole a quick glance at myself in the mirror. Dark circles, blank brown eyes, dry pink lips, and pale skin from lack of sleep stared back at me. I looked like a walking zombie.
Letting out a tired sigh, I splashed my neck with water, feeling the cold droplets trickle down and vanish under my top.
Just as I reached for the filthy cloth nearby to dry my hands, a voice shattered the silence, startling me from my daze.
"I wouldn’t touch that if I were you," a man’s voice spoke, his warm breath tickling my skin.
I turned to find him standing there, his eyes locking onto mine.
My heart skipped a beat.
What the hell?
It was the man from the park, the one who had vanished into thin air.
“What? I mean, yeah, no, I don’t want that!” I babbled, hastily drying my hands on my jeans.
His eyes followed my movement slowly, then he glanced at me from head to toe, lingering on my neck where he could surely see my pulse racing.
He then calmly advanced, narrowing the space between us.
Heat surged up my cheeks and down my neck as he took another step closer. Our chests brushed lightly. He glanced down and smirked.
After what seemed like an eternity, he leaned in, his lips close to my right ear.
I held my breath.
“I wanna wash my hands too.”
Embarrassed, I quickly stepped aside to let him wash his hands. His presence made me behave oddly, in a way I had never acted before. Realizing how foolish I must seem, I pretended to cough and turned to leave. Just as I reached for the door, a strong hand appeared above my head, keeping it closed. His scent filled my nostrils, and I found myself inhaling deeply, fighting the sudden urge to turn around and bury my head in his neck.
Wait, what?
What is wrong with me?!
I then felt his hand gently rest on my hip as his body pressed against mine. He moved his hand from the door, brushing my hair aside and letting his fingers lightly graze my neck. His lips brushed against my left ear.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I turned to face him, my brows knitting together in confusion. “N-No, I’m sorry.”
He took a step back, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “We met at the club. You mentioned wanting me to be your first kiss.”
My cheeks flushed bright red as memories came rushing back: the awkward dancing, his hands on my hips, and how I nearly threw up on him.
The embarrassment was so intense, I wanted to dig a hole and hide in it until the end of time.
“Oh yeah, that was you,” I stuttered, laughing nervously. “Hi, funny running into you… here.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that was me.”
I blushed. “I?—”
“So, where are you off to in such a hurry?”
