After what had occurred within the previous months life was never to be the same. The J symbol embedded on my skin would never be one of regret regardless of what others could possibly have thought. And now, I was back. We were back. The club was flooded as usual and as my eyes remained on his, a smile cast across my lips and it was as though a film flushed over my eyes but I felt like a new person, as though my sight was hooded with passion and need. In my heart I knew I should wait on Jane, she had done her best for me and my 'recovery', more than any friend could have asked for. But every bone in my body felt compelled to walk to him.
Eyes were on me, analysing my every move as more and more people began to note who I was. Yet none had thankfully noted what, or who, I was staring at. I questioned whether I'd have time to go over and talk before Jane returned but this quickly was erased as I felt her hand on my shoulder, her cold metal rings against my bare skin tearing my eyes from their position. Thoughts plagued my brain, the familiar scent of his cologne filled my nose as though it was smothering me, yet I knew it would be impossible for me to smell such a thing when he was so far away. Yet he felt so close.
How was I meant to know if he truly still cared? Possibly everything he had said before which had hurt me so deeply was true. Yet every moment I glanced at him I fell once more for his magnetic aura.
"Are you alright?" Jane's voice tore me from my thoughts, grounding once more in the original plan to simply have a normal night. I should owe her that at very least, to at least not run into the arms for a third time of a madman. A madman that no one could tame yet my heart sought and fought so dearly to do that one impossible thing.
I grinned, nodding, forcing myself to smile through tears which suddenly happened to blur my sight which I hadn't noticed. Her perfect eyes filled with unease as she watched me grab two shots off a woman's tray and throw them back without a second thought as the alcohol burned at my throat.
I sauntered to the other side of the room, new found confidence filling me and yet instead of being relieved to see him, anger was installed within me. How could he summon me? He had left me stranded for months! People thought I was insane for thinking he cared, for thinking he would return for me and here I am, having received a note I jumped at the chance at the tiniest idea that he might be there with such a request. And I came as he beckoned. But no longer, he had got me as far as the dancefloor but now I needed to know he would take those final steps. I wasn't going to become another Harley, to be discarded to the side at his will and to rope back in his boredom. I demanded to be more or nothing. Yet of course the idea of nothing made my stomach ache in ways never known and the thought of telling him – a criminal mastermind – it was over seemed rather unlikely.
As I swayed on the floor the music appeared to take control, it wasn't its usual loud pulsing beats as it had been when we entered but instead its words spoke to each and every member within this club. Someone at some point within this place had experienced torment, hurt, or love that was lost. That was after-all the only reason to come to such a place, to feel alive once more like you did when all was alright, when you were consumed with passion that could never be conquered – or so everyone thought. It would be the only reason to come to such a place: to have adrenaline purse through your veins at the danger, particularly with his return, and hope that maybe that one person would walk through those club doors and take you away to a safe place. Yet it never happened.
Jane would pair up with uncountable numbers of beautiful men, teasing them in her innocent pure way and yet every single man that gazed at me with lust or any form of interest remained distant in their stance as though I were tainted, diseased, cursed. His eyes were unbearable as they cascaded across my skin from his spot in the VIP section. I could feel his anger bubbling as the minutes passed that I paid no attention to him. Though my determination was wavering and I could feel myself begin to slowly drift closer to the steps that lead to his station. Was he really prepared for me to be the one that walks away?
Jane departed with a man, though she said it was only for a cigarette – a habit she felt disgusted by despite having me as a friend who apparently no longer cared for her initial wellbeing now as I found one frequently within my fingers over the past couple of months – and so I knew it could possibly be an inkling to find an empty side street for a few minutes…
With her leaving my side I struggled to focus my eyes anywhere else than him. I longed for the warmth of his hands to brush my shoulders, to flick my hair off the nape of my neck as his body stood towering behind mine. My eyes sealed at the thoughts, any form of attention I could receive from him was all I could ask for.
It was no longer so simple, I wasn't to be rescued by a man, by a bat. I was no longer in danger. But instead I was complicated within myself. I was no longer anything like I used to be, I could still remember that girl. And yet now I was imperfect, I am good yet flawed. Without the love of such another broken individual I was lonely most of the time. The girl of beauty and hope filled eyes despite the torment and pain that she had experience was gone, yet used to be mine. The pain of everything I had gone through seeped through my veins and ached as I swayed to the music, every scar I had received felt as though it reopened. I needed my adrenaline rush. I needed him. A man that uses and abuses and can't love. Yet that was all I could ever want and ask for.
Cold rings touched my skin, the rest of the hand on my arm radiating with warmth and I smiled to myself – the imagination of such a feeling making me want to cry as bodies around me swayed. The idea of him truly noticing me, caring enough to come forward pulling every heart string and valve that would be possible. I turned to the imaginary warmth and stood doe eyed.
My breath hitched as his fingers trailed across my skin rising to my neck where it burrowed in the curve, my head automatically tilting into its warmth. The tears returned and I fought them as they threatened to spill down my beautifully manicured face which Jane had spent ages on. The pain of any wounds suddenly were swept away. I rose my hand and trailed it along his lips, red printing onto my fingertips as his famous smirk swept across them, his eyes alight with fire and ice as they gazed manically wide. I glanced down at the red and smudged it between my fingertips, two tears managing to escape as hair hung over my face - hiding and shadowing it as he scanned every inch of movement I made. He was real.
"Did you miss me?" his familiar American twanged voice gleamed.
Without thought I pulled myself to him, my hand gripping into his green hair as our lips met. The tears continued to stream individually, gracefully, out of happiness rather than sadness. He was back. We were back.