Final Meeting
Pairing: Wings!Ex!Azzi x reader
Subject: You see Azzi at the club for the first time since you left, (part 2 of ‘First and Last meeting’)
Warnings: toxic relationship, sexual compliancy, drinking, slight manipulation, going back to ex, sexual them but no actual smut, (not really a warning, but this is in 1st person compared to part 1 being in 3rd)
The liquor burns my throat as it slides down. The sting making my eyes slightly water.
As the drink settles my senses become distant and fuzzy. The lights blending into a halo of fluorescents.
The drink continues to flow through my system as my body moves from person to person.
An array of hands memorizing the curve of my body as I drag my body against them.
But the grip on one of the hands sticks out, bringing me from my drunkenness.
My body turns before my eyes can meet the person.
But when they do, my body feels as if it’s soulless. As if the air was sucked out of me, leaving me suffocating.
The right grip, belonged to Azzi Fudd.
The one who drank every night . The one who cheated on me countlessly, leaving me no option but to leave. The one who I still thought about even after all of that.
“Well look who’s drinking now, huh” she says. Her face clearly showing the amusement shes finding in this.
Apart of me wants to just walk away, and act like I never seen her, or heard her voice…or felt the way her hand gripped my hips.
But apart of me also wants to stay, to see if maybe she’s changed, although her demeanor reflects otherwise.
“You not gonna say hi now? Gonna just stand there in look good?” Her words hold an air of seduction mixed with that same agitation she always had when we were together.
And something about that, is enough to tear me from my trance, the trance that gets created when you haven’t seen someone in a while and forget what they were truly like.
“Azzi, I don’t have time for this. Goodbye”
As my body turns to leave, her hand grips my arm, that same grip from earlier. The one that I could single out from the rest.
Her hand turns me around to face her, our faces mere inches. And that’s when I see it, the eyes of someone who looks like they’re missing something.
“Come on ma, I’ve changed…can’t you see”
?” Her words are like a slap to the face, because I do see. But I also see the same face that hurt me over and over again. The same person that broke my chest over and over again.
But worst of all I see the person I fell in love with. So, when she drags me by my arm out the club, I follow, because the best things come from second chances.
———————————————————————————
The drive to her house is messy and chaotic. Her lips whispering all the things she thinks I want to hear. And unfortunately (or fortunately) it works.
Worst part is that she knows it works. She sees the way my legs begin to clench as she rambles while driving.
The way I bite my lip when she softens her voice.
And she uses it, she uses it so well that when we get to the door, her hand is already around my neck.
Her free hand wrestling with the keys as she kisses me roughly.
My body on fire from her touch and the way her hands move against my body as if they never forgot the shape.
Her tongue explores my mouth as we move to the couch, our bodies moving in sync, something we could never do.
She tears my clothes off, the movements rough and underlined with things that’ll never be said.
I can tell from the way she stares at me that she’s been wanting this, that she’s missed what she lost.
But I can’t tell if it’s me she’s missed or my body, and the thought alone makes me want to leave, to say that this was a mistake and that I should’ve ignored her.
So when she goes to kiss me again, her finger reaching to rub my clit, I allow her.
Cause I can’t tell if it’s her I missed or her body, and maybe that’s what makes us perfect for each other. Maybe the hesitation and misunderstanding of both our feeling is what keeps us tied.
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