divorce chapter 6

“Are you here alone?” He stared at my face, or rather, my mask. After a long silence, I started to feel awkward, wondering if my line was too clichéd.

“I came with a friend.” Wow, even his voice was amazing. His deep baritone, accented with the strong tones of the northern empire, made my heart race.

“Oh, I see.” Even without clubbing experience, I understood what “I came with a friend” meant. He wasn’t interested. I turned and returned to my seat, sipping my drink alone. One drink became two, then three, as I watched the people reveling under the bright lights. I began to feel the effects of the alcohol. 

There was always tomorrow; I could come back another time and try talking to someone else. Just then, the gray rabbit appeared before me. He fidgeted, touching the back of his neck, and spoke, seeming embarrassed.

“I apologize for earlier. I’m not used to these places and I was rude.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t realize you were asking me to talk.” I was speechless, then burst out laughing. This man was adorable!

“Alright, Gray Rabbit. I’ll be your playmate.” He seemed to register a beat later that I’d called him Gray Rabbit, and nodded.

“Come this way.” He patted the seat next to him, and I sat down. Fresh drinks arrived. Despite my bold invitation, an awkward silence fell between us. He took a deep breath and asked, “What brings you here?”

“Um, I came to relax. What about you, Gray Rabbit?” He frowned slightly, as if in thought.

“My friends invited me.”

“Oh, you really did come with friends.” His ears turned red. He rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, “I really did.” He was growing on me with every passing moment. For the past three years, I hadn’t even had time to rest, let alone date. Now, with my unwanted engagement finally broken off, I wanted to enjoy life and find romance. And a handsome man like him could certainly brighten my short life.

“So, what are your friends doing while you’re here alone?”

“They told me to have fun and just… left.”

“Inconsiderate friends.” He chuckled softly and took a sip of his cocktail. The silhouette of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed was starkly visible against the backlighting. My cheeks flushed, as if I were witnessing something forbidden.

“And you, Red Fox, are you really here alone?”

“Yes, truly alone. I came to reward myself for achieving a long-held dream.”

“Something good happened, then?” He smiled gently.

“Yes. I fulfilled my lifelong wish.”

“May I ask what it was?”

“Hmm. A matter of life and death?” He seemed to think I was joking, shaking his head and taking another drink. I didn’t bother explaining further and picked up my glass. The conversation flowed, lubricated by alcohol. As the night deepened and the drinks multiplied, we began to share more personal stories. When I confessed that I’d been forced into an unwanted engagement due to poverty, he finished his drink and spoke with difficulty.

“Actually, I came here after being jilted. A sort of consolation trip.” His tone was bitter, and he downed his whiskey in one gulp.

“My, what a loss for her. She’ll surely regret it.” Without thinking, I placed my hand on his firm forearm, marveling at the solid feel of his muscles beneath my palm. With his physique, height, and the expensive, albeit simple, clothes he wore, he seemed perfect. And someone had broken off an engagement with him? He sighed softly and murmured, “I have a hard time being around people, especially women.” I couldn’t believe it, seeing him sitting here next to me, talking perfectly normally.

“Haha, I’m sure it’s hard to believe. I’m surprised myself that I’m able to sit here and talk to such a beautiful woman.” A tinge of bitterness resonated in his voice, even through the mask. Was it the alcohol, or the exotic atmosphere? I reached out and touched his cheek. His cheek muscles tensed in surprise. Deep, ocean-blue eyes met mine. The shadows cast by the mask obscured their full expression. But it was just a one-night encounter. Did it really matter? 

Playfully, I trailed my fingers to his ear. He flinched, and I enjoyed his reaction. He made a frustrated sound, and then a sweet scent enveloped me as his warm lips brushed against mine. The light touch deepened, growing more intense and demanding, stealing my breath. He pulled back, sensing my struggle. But this time, I reached for his hand. His palm was calloused, the mark of someone who wielded a sword. I intertwined my fingers with his, thick and long and rough. He looked down at our joined hands, then leaned in and whispered in my ear, “My room… haah… is upstairs.”