RIN
Somebody is watching me.
Again.
Every time I come here again, at this place, put my mask on and walk through those doors, I always feel them. The weight of those eyes, watching my every move, studying me, judging me. And the worst part is … I love it.
I anticipate it, even now, as I adjust my hold on the wine glass stem, my fingers delicate, and eyes roaming on the ground floor as people dance to the soft classical music.
As they court, drink, and seduce each other, only for all of that soft play to be discarded on the floor when their animalistic sides show once the door locks behind them.
I want that. I crave it, even as I let out a sigh, taking a sip of my wine. Rex fucked me less than two hours ago, only for me to come running here. Here, where I will either go home again, feeling satisfied and played because my secret admirer hasn't approached me yet again, and also, to enjoy feeling seen.
