ABL 01: Black Butterfly

I wiped the counter despite being annoyed by my job today. On all the days that this bar could be full, it chose today and wasn’t even by my regular well-mannered customers, it was a bunch of college kids and all they could do was make a bunch of noise and spill their drinks all over my counter. My counter!

“You should plaster a smile on that face, Amanah,” I stared at my boss, Frank with an annoyed look and he laughed as he flipped the cocktail shaker in the air and caught it with his right hand behind his back, psshh show off. “You might murder someone.”

“Yeah, and that someone might be you,” I said, and he smiled, pouring the drink into the glass and winking at the girls that were watching him; they swooned. A cocky smile grew on his clean face. Argh, so annoying!

I was not used to seeing Frank without his beard, he didn’t look bad, but he definitely looked so different without it. He almost looked…younger. I continued wiping the counter, and I looked outside, counting the hours to when I could finally go back home.

“Have you noticed the number of black butterflies in this neighbourhood lately?” I asked him, and he looked out the window shaking his head.

“Never,” he said, and I sighed.

Rolling my eyes, I watched as a new customer walked into the building and sit at the end of the bar. I looked at Frank, nodding to him with my head, and he pointed to me. With an aggravated sigh, I walked over to the man who, on normal days, would fit in this place, but today he looked out of place. 

Attractively out of place.

“Hey darling, what can I get you?” I asked, leaning across the counter and making sure I squeezed my breasts, for no reason at all.

“I’ll have a gin,” he said, and I stood there still. First of all, his voice travelled deeper than just my ears, and I don’t want to mention where, and secondly...

“You came here just to have a gin?” I emphasised the ‘a’, and he cocked his head to the side. I must admit, this man is freaking handsome. He definitely surpasses my used-to-be level of handsome men!

“Then what do you recommend?” He asked slowly, and I smiled as I stood up straight. 

I recommend me. 

“I’ll whip you a drink, and I guarantee it will be your new favourite,” I said, and he slightly grinned, nodding.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, and I grinned, throwing my cloth over my shoulder. I walked back to where Frank was, and he leaned toward me as I made the drink.

“So, who is Mr Mysterious Handsome Guy?” He asked, and I smiled, looking at him.

“I don’t know. I was hoping you knew him,” I said as I used the cocktail shaker. Frank propped his head on his hand and shook his head. Please say you know him.

“This is the first time I am seeing him,” he said, and I shrugged, pretending I was not bummed out. “What are you making?” He asked after a while, leaning in closer to me.

“Negroni,” I said, and Frank chuckled. “What, this is part of the three drinks I know how to make to perfection,” I defended myself, and he licked his lips, still laughing.

“Uh-huh,” he answered sarcastically, and I kicked his foot as I finished making the drink. I took it to my customer and set it in front of him.

“This is better than just gin,” I said, and he looked at the drink and nodded. “It does have gin in it, though,” I revealed to him, and he smiled. “So, what’s your name, or do you prefer to drink in complete silence? Not that it’s quiet enough here today, you came on a bad day. Between you and me, I would prefer it if there weren’t any customers here,” I said, and he sipped his drink as he listened to me ramble on. “You haven’t answered me. Is it good?”

“My name is Miall, and I don’t mind the company. I agree, it isn’t quiet enough, but you seem to be enough of a distraction,” he said, and I smiled, pleased that he answered everything I said without looking annoyed, at all. "Yes, it's good," he licked his lips, and I almost moaned at his silky voice. 

Girls like me will never end up with a man like him. It's good to dream, though. 

“My name is Amanah," I leaned against my hand as I observed him. "You know, the colour of your eyes is really beautiful; I have never seen a person with that colour,” I mumbled, and surprisingly, he caught that.

“Really, what colour are they right now?” He asked, and I leaned closer to look at his eyes.

“They’re kind of gold,” I whispered and cocked my head to the side. As soon as I blinked, the colour was different. “Oh wait, no, they’re purple. That’s a huge difference,” I said, laughing. “My lame eyes must be deceiving me,” I said as I leaned back.

“Your eyes aren’t lame, and my eyes are purple. Where I come from, it’s almost a very common eye colour,” he said, and I nodded as I took in his features. It was almost as if he were sculpted. Nothing of his looked natural. All of it had to be worked out for; however, his stubble made him seem more real. Biting my lip, I leaned in closer and asked him,

“Really? Where are you from?” I was interested to know where people with purple eyes actually live, and maybe I should marry one and have a baby with purple eyes.

“Somewhere far away,” he whispered.

“Well, home is far away,” I whispered, smiling. “So what do you do?”

“I kind of protect and order people around, it’s not the most fun, but it is bearable,” he said, and I nodded.

“Oh, so you’re like Frank?” I said, and he looked at me confused, and I laughed, pointing to Frank. “My asshole colleague slash boss,” I whispered, and he laughed, nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I am something like Frank,” he said, and I cocked my head to the side.

“You’re an asshole?” I asked, and he chuckled and shrugged.

“I can be at times. It’s necessary sometimes,” he said, and I nodded.

That is so hot, is what I wanted to say...

“Sure, but sometimes, the asshole of a boss needs to be told what to do, like Frank,” I said, and we both looked at him as he flirted with two girls simultaneously. I have to watch him do this almost daily except for Sundays, thankfully. But it does get quite annoying.

“How about you have a drink with me?” he raised his glass, and I looked back at Frank, and I decided fuck it, my shift is almost over, so I might as well have a drink with this fine ass man.

“So Amanah-”

“No, Josh,” I said as I pulled out the glasses.

“But-”

“No,” I said, and he sighed, turning around. He had been hitting on me since he hit his second drink, and he would come every fifteen minutes to see if I had changed my mind about him. I hadn’t.

“You’re so lucky, man,” he said to Miall as he walked away to his friends, who were still drinking away their night. These kids had just finished their finals and thought it would be great and classy if they came to drink here. Nothing about that scene looked classic, and damn, they've got some great kidneys.

I made us both Whiskey Sours and shots. I have to say, this man does not get wasted easily, and since I am one competitive person, I made it my mission to get him drunk. However, it seems I'm the only way halfway there.

“Come on, one more shot!” I slurred as I raised my glass, and he chuckled, shrugging and raised his own glass. “I said no, Josh!”

“There’s nothing wrong with trying more than once,” he stumbled along, and Miall laughed, watching him.

“He really is persistent,” he said, and I shrugged.

“I met him today, so… another?” I twirled the glass, and he chuckled, shaking his head. I was beyond drunk, but I had to see him drunk as well.

“You’re persistent as well. One more shot,” one turned into five, and it turned into us stumbling in my apartment, tearing at each other's clothes. Yes, that is what happens when you get shit-face drunk with a handsome stranger, although I advise you to be more cautious. 

My nipples have never hurt so much that whenever they rub against my shirt, I can still feel his tongue circling them. My bruises were daily reminders of how I got the best fuck of my life, and the ache between my leg always had me biting my lip. Those strokes were otherworldly, and I wanted more. Miall was a beast in bed, and I am sure I might need to buy new sheets and beg Frank for a new uniform because this one was pretty much in shreds.

When I came to, Miall wasn’t next to me, and yeah, he didn't even say goodbye. It's been weeks since then, and thinking about him always gets me annoyed, but the thought of having his hands roaming my body, squeezing the parts I'm most insecure about, stroking places I didn't know were sensitive and hearing his guttural groans in my ear... I'd be more than happy to jump back into bed with him.

I sighed again for the umpteenth time, and Frank looked at me amusedly. I want to smack that smug smile away. I want to bash his head in! Fuck, I'm so horny!

“Annoyed that you haven’t seen your one-night stand in three weeks?” He asked, and I frowned. “It’s a one-night stand, Ama-”

“There!” I shouted, standing up.

“He’s here?” Frank asked confusedly, and I shook my head, pointing outside.

“No, look at that darn black butterfly!” I said, shaking my finger at it. “Come on, you idiot!” I held his face and moved it in the direction of the butterfly. “See it?”

“Do you want me to answer you honestly?” He asked slowly. I groaned, frustrated, letting go of his face.

“You’re just slow,” I said and kissed my teeth. Frank laughed and shook his head.

“And you’re hallucinating. You know what, I’ll let you go home early tonight,” he said as he leaned against the counter.

“Really?” I asked excitedly, and he rolled his eyes.

“The least you could do is pretend to be bummed out by it,” he said, accepting my apron, and I grinned, pressing my lips against his cheek.

“I am so disappointed that you’re giving me an early weekend. So frustrating,” I said as I skipped towards the door.

“Sure, see ya on Monday, and don’t be late!”

“Bye, Frankie!” I exclaimed as I left the bar and walked to my apartment building. Before getting home, I stopped by the convenience store and bought some junk food I had been craving. The cashier looked amused at my choices, and I smiled at her. For good reasons, I choose peace sometimes.

I made it home and took a bath before getting started on a simple dinner. I lived a simple, quiet life, nothing exciting, and I liked it. There was no family to bother me, no parents to please, no siblings to compete against, and a nice life without disturbances. 

And now that I have gotten a taste of possibly the best sex in my life, I want more.

I watched a series on my laptop, and as I lost interest and slowly fell asleep, I saw the black butterfly in my room and looked at it, sleepy.

“You came with friends this time?” I whispered as I watched the kaleidoscope of butterflies having fun in my room, finally succumbing to slumber. I fell asleep with my show playing.

After what felt like hours of sleep, I heard my name being called from afar, which scared the life out of me because I lived alone, and nobody had a key to my apartment. I frowned and decided to ignore it, hoping to fall asleep again.

“Amanah Jones!” The voice repeated, and I groaned, facing the other way.

“You don’t teach me anymore, Mrs Wright,” I mumbled as I hugged my pillow tighter.

“Amanah Jones!” The voice called out again, and I was frustrated when I came to. I want to cry; all I want is to sleep.

“WHAT!?” I screamed, and the woman in front of me kindly smiled. Am I still dreaming?

“Welcome to Nioz.”