Tyler
The thing I noticed is his skin. Too warm. Too hot.
Angel yanks his arm from my grip and storms out of the bar. People glance at him, then look away—like they can sense the chaos radiating off him.
I catch up to him in the cold night air, forgetting I left my drunk friend inside with a random girl. I grab Angel's shoulder hard. He stumbles back, then spins around like he was waiting for me.
His green eyes flash. "What? What do you want?"
"A thanks would be nice," I say.
He sneers. "I didn't need help. You jumped in on your own."
His green eyes turned heavy, and I noticed something was off. His skin flushed. His forehead is turning red.
I remembered that he put something in my drink, so I asked, "What did you put in my drink?"
He turned around like he wanted to avoid my questions, but I narrowed my eyes, not planning to let him get away with this. I went closer to him and grabbed his hand, which was warm.
He tried to pull away, but I held tighter, and I asked again in a firmer tone that couldn't be ignored. "What did you put in my drink?"
Angel glared at me with red cheeks, and he swallowed hard. He looked at me, then his eyes lowered to my lips.
Angel tried to pull away, then he stumbled, then I had to hold him by the shoulder. He said in an annoyed tone, "What is it to you?"
When I squeezed his hand tighter, Angel finally relented. "Fine. It's something that would make you feel horny."
I heard of it. I wasn't surprised, but I couldn't help feeling disbelief, "You mean aphrodisiac?"
Angel nodded, but no hint of shame on his face. I asked, "Why would you carry something like that? You're a good-looking person; you can find any guy to have sex with."
Angel lifted his flushed eyes and slapped me across the face. My face stings, but I ignored it. I slapped him back, harder. I don't care if he's smaller than me. But I don't let anyone put their hands on me.
Angel hits the ground. Gravel stains his clothes. A red scratch blooms on his elbow. His eyes mist. I kneel beside him.
"What? You going to cry?"
He glares, then turns away like a sulking kid. I sigh. "Get up. I'm sorry."
He stares at my hand like it's a foreign object. Then takes it.
I asked with a slight frown, "What?"
Angel frowned but replied. "It's nothing."
Really. I can see the pain in your brow.
I released his hands and knelt on the ground again. I didn't care about my pants getting dirty again. It was already dirty. When I reached Angel's helm pants, Angel grabbed my shoulder in surprise. He asked. "What are you doing?"
I lifted my brow in a cocky arch. "Checking your ankle. Isn't that where it hurts?"
Angel didn't have the time to respond before I moved the cuff of his pants up. His ankle was smooth like a baby, and no hair was visible.
His skin was bruised. Probably sprained.
I looked at my phone from my pocket. It was nearly ten p.m. I asked Angel. "Do you have your car with you?"
Angel shook his head with red cheeks. His hands began to slide over my shoulder, then under my shirt and touch my skin, his hands nearly sending a shiver down my spine, and I reached to grab his hand.
"Stop."
Angel looked at me with his glistening eyes.
But his other hand went to touch my lips. Fingers flick against my tongue.
I felt slightly out of breath. I heard a door opening, which startled me, so I pulled away. I grabbed both of his hands with one hand, and I saw two drunk people exiting the nightclub. It was a man holding a woman in his arms.
I turned away and grabbed Angel. I took him to a bus stop that's five minutes away, and Angel fell asleep on my shoulder, but his hands kept trying to touch me. Anywhere. My hands. My legs. My arms. My face.
The bus came, and the bus driver looked at me weirdly, but I ignored it since I had to deal with Angel's hands, so I walked to the end of the bus and sat down. A couple of people gave us weird glances since we wore dirty clothes and messy hair, but I gave them a fierce glare, which scared them away.
Angel opened his eyes.
I grinned. "Pervert. You done touching me?"
Angel looked confused and looked down when he saw his hands being held in my hands.
Angel asked, "Where am I?"
I replied calmly, but didn't feel it on the surface. "On the bus heading to my place."
Angel nodded. I almost felt angry because I didn't like the fact that he was vulnerable with me. What if I were dangerous?
But I could see Angel was still out of it. His eyes glisten. His hands were trying to pull away, then I asked, "Are you going to stop touching me?"
Angel nodded. I was relieved, so I released them a few seconds later, and his hands went back on me again.
He says he'll stop. But his hands don't listen.
And I'm starting to wonder if mine will.