HOLD UP , did he just apologise ? surely not , but she did hear something that resembled an apology ; so swift it’s almost futile , and barely audible over the thump , thump , thump of the background ━ but SORRY had just tumbled from his lips & fallen into her ears . HIM , the guy who had never once delivered an ounce of sympathy or regret over his actions , his words ( or at the very least , not to odelia . ) and it’s a shock ━ comparable to diving into ICE COLD water ━ but it’s a nice one , satisfying . to odelia , it means he still has a beating heart in that chest of his that feels something , or at the very least is capable of doing so . but then , he’s drunk , and tomorrow it’ll be but a mere souvenir . he’ll dismiss it , say he doesn’t remember or it was all part of the JOKE , so she best not get used to it . but the way he looks at her . . . he’s never looked at her like that before . ❛ alright , fine , not jealous . ❜ matching it with that unconvinced tone of hers , and the way eyes dance away from his towards the crowds of people in that skeptic way , she might have well just said ‘ YEAH RIGHT . ’ odelia knows jealousy . maybe not on him , but she’s felt envy infecting her thoughts ━ when she sees girls practically cling themselves to his side like a piece of clothing . but he doesn’t need to be jealous ; she’s still too stuck on the carousel that is arturo to move on to anyway . believe her , she’s tried . everytime she decides to take the advice people have been begging her to take , move on , find someone new to preoccupy her time with , she just finds herself standing right where she was now . he doesn’t need to be jealous , no other guy has compared .
❛ just tonight’s accessory , i don’t ━ ❜ now , she knows that sentence was going somewhere , the words were leading to something ; but the moment he leans in & her mind goes blank . his lips barely grazing her ear , breath hot against her neck : he’s teasing her , and it’s working . palms reach out to slide against her chest until they grip his shoulders , whether to pull him closer or to push him further away , she hadn’t yet decided ━ but she forgets about the bottle , almost drops it . ❛ god , stop that . ❜ she doesn’t mean it , not really . if they were ALONE she wouldn’t be protesting , but she’s just uncomfortable with so many eyes . he might not be , of course he isn’t , but she is . ❛ i don’t drink . basically like battery acid for the brain cells anyway . ❜ she finishes , with the same answer to the same question that she never elaborates further ; because how could innocent odelia come from such screwed up family ? a warning has been practically burnt into her brain not to touch the stuff : because she remembers the first time she sees the signs of acute alcohol poisoning : barely seven , and hysterical . she got used to it , around the age of nine , when cleaning up the aftermath of her parent’s wild nights was just called the nine o’clock routine ━ so no , she doesn’t drink , never has . but she’s found other things that have caused the same exhilarating effect ; like him , like the feeling of his fingertips tracing her cheeks . soft , almost saccharine , to the point she finds herself smiling .
it’s short - lived , however , and falls as quickly as it appears ; because there he goes again , that switch . GOD , the guy was worse than a pre-pubescent teenager when it came to his sudden mood swings . she needed a goddamn list to remember every little thing that triggered him off . ❛ says you ━ i’m not the one making a scene over nothing . ❜ because that’s what it is to her , NOTHING . she doesn’t understand how someone can get so defensive over a little sentiment . but it’s not just a little sentiment , is it ? she might not be able to admit it , sure as hell not to him , but it’s more than worry , more than just caring . she thinks . . . maybe , perhaps , feasibly she could be half - way to loving this one . and she doesn’t know which is more terrifying : the fact she does , or the fact she managed to figure it out while he was tearing her down ━ spitting venom & words that are poised , sharp , like switchblades . ❛ a game , huh ? ❜ yeah , that one hurt . he should be proud that that one hit it’s bullseye , but odelia has no other person to blame but herself . she can’t say no one ever tried to WARN her , when every person in town knew to tread lightly when it comes to arturo lopez , but odelia ? she dove right into the deep end & has been struggling ever since . so that clenching in her chest as he speaks , the way that knife is twisting in her stomach from his severity , that’s all on HER . ❛ that’s kinda hypocritical — you’re not my damn boyfriend , which is crystal clear by the way , and i’m not your girl ; but you’re allowed to seek me out whenever you’re bored or lonely ? ❜ yes , you heard it , the way her voice breaks towards the end , but she’s already backing away before it becomes too apparent ; a shake of her head as she shoves the bottle against a nearby oil drum , and blonde hair falls across narrow shoulders as she already begins to side - step past all the party-goers . her voice is steadier this time, but still carries a pang of hurt , still an open wound . ❛ don’t worry , i was leaving anyway ━ enjoy the rest of your night . ❜
arturo makes a show of rolling his eyes, before surprisingly gently pulling the bottle away from odelia’s hands. it doesn’t look RIGHT there, anyways. and also, he doesn’t want to be getting sober anytime soon. he takes a swig of her drink, even offering it back to her, even though they BOTH know she doesn’t want it. her eyes on him always make him slightly itchy. as if she’s reading more to him then there actually is. odelia always seems to READ MORE, to WANT more. she makes no damn sense to him. arturo KNOWS he’s been the biggest asshole in the world to her... and she still always comes back. it makes him want to test her more. to keep pushing, and pulling, and seeing JUST where the breaking point is for her. if one even EXISTS.
he grins as she pushes him away. he sees the way her eyes scan the questionable crowd sorrounding them. as if ANY of the drunks are paying attention to either of them. still. it’s cute. adorable. “stop WHAT?” he asks, suggestively, pressing in closer to her again. this time his hand DOES go to her ass, squeezing it, before dropping away. his head is thrown back again, adam’s apple bobbing as he LAUGHS. he could drink up every reaction odelia gives him, he really could. he stays close to her, though. even when she’s looking miffed, and unsure. he ignores her statement about alcohol KILLING brain cells. maybe that’s why he drinks so much. if he could, he’d probably drink himself to death. however, the way odelia says it doesn’t pass by arturo unnoticed. he’s GOOD at picking up on small cues. HINTS. things he can use against people later. odelia’s is alcohol. there’s something more to it then just DYING BRAIN CELLS. something darker. he doesn’t know what, and he tilts his head at her briefly, as if he might figure it out. but he doesn’t. he won’t. not yet. he dismisses it. instead, arturo is ducking in closer again, lips pressing against her neck. “nobody’s paying any attention to us.” he murmurs to her, mouth open, exhaling hot air against her sweet, soft skin. it’s like tasting something he knows he doesn’t deserve. something he can never truly have.
as odelia retorts back to him yet again, arturo is pulling back again. he clenches his jaw briefly, before releasing it, and her. in the beginning, odelia never said anything back to him. no matter WHAT he did. it’s a statement to how many times he’s done this to her, that finally- now, she’s speaking up. “yeah. a game.” he repeats, before barking out a cruel laugh. “i wanted to fuck THE odelia rosenberg. and i did. and that innocent act you put on? man, if only people knew what you were REALLY like. especially when you’re horny and begging me.” his voice is raising, harsh, and crude, purposely so others can HEAR. he doesn’t know why he’s this annoyed. why these words are coming out. he wishes his hands were still on her hips, his mouth still on her neck. arturo’s mouth opens to bark back another cruel reply, before he balks at the way her voice trembles. don’t cry. don’t fucking cry, he wants to shake her. he HATES when people cry. it disgusts him above all else. but, for once, he isn’t feeling disgust. he’s feeling like he took things too far. and arturo NEVER feels that way. not when he set fire to his father’s shitty old car, so they could get the insurance money. not when he hit patrick sharpe over and over, until he was hospitalised, back in junior school. not E V E R . except now, with odelia staring at him with those BAMBI EYES. the cruelness and fight leaves him at once, like an exhale.
but she’s turning away, and arturo has one second to decide what to do. usually, he’d let her go. but, he doesn’t want her to. he’s selfish. one minded. he’s immediately shouldering past people again, his heart thumping in his chest as he finally reaches up to her again. his hand goes to hers, to pull her back. “WAIT. fuck, o. come on. shit.” it’s not an apology. arturo never does them. but it may as well be. his voice sounds resigned, regretful. no ‘i’m sorry’ or ‘i didn’t mean it’, instead it’s a: “don’t go.”
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