Curious Affairs | Tag - Natesa

[ilyas aylin]

It wasn’t his favorite place to stay, a busy city centre, but sometimes, he had no choice.

The darkness had just fully set in, and rowdy youngsters roamed the streets, busy discussing their destination of tonight. Ilyas walked among them, but paid little attention to anyone. His eyes were aimed at the ground, his pace swift. The neon light illuminated what could be seen of his pale skin. His irritation level grew when a few of the youngsters bumped into him and a soft sigh escaped his lips just before he came to a halt.

Thank Heavens he reached his destination of tonight.

How a town like this could survive with just one bar, it was an absolute mystery to the blonde man. He glanced up at the neon sign that tried to look inviting. Really, it looked cheap, a weak excuse for a nightclub, but an alcoholic boost would be more than welcome. A group of youths went inside, laughing happily. All of this made the place even more unappealing; he wondered if they were even old enough to enter. But he’d been walking in town for an hour now and another bump against his shoulder, and a muffled ‘excuse me’ caused him to groan. He had to get out of there, at any cost. ‘Please, let it not be karaoke night,’ he prayed to himself.

Inside, the lights were dim and the music played loudly. The dance floor, though small, was completely crowded and most sang along with their favorite songs. Not karaoke exactly, yet still annoying. He’d picked a great day to visit this place.. At least the bar was quiet. For now.

Reluctantly, he dropped himself in a stool that stood by the bar, leaned his elbows on it and ordered himself a scotch. “On ice,” he added bluntly. He gazed at the dancing youngsters for a moment, envying their carefree lives and attitudes. They had no idea how lucky they were.

He sipped from his drink quietly and already, his mind was drifting off. Two months in this city without having talked to more than a handful of people; that must’ve been a new record, even for him. If only he could get the hell out of here. This town wasn’t a place he wanted to stay at for a longer time; too busy, too modern, too young. But since all his attempts to leave here so far had strangely failed, he currently had little choice. As he placed his hand on the drink in front of him again, tiny crystals of ice appeared on the glass. He liked his drink well chilled, and there was no better way than to do it himself.

More entered the club in the hour that followed and all Ilyas wished was for that drumming noise in the background to stop. It was what the youth called ‘music’ nowadays; Lady Cookie, or whatever her name was and that teenager with his whiny voice, who made all the young girls scream. Why? He would hardly call it music. It was rather a way to brainwash the mashes. He’d only had his third drink of the night, but he was certain: tonight would be a long, tiresome night.

Headache. That damn headache.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine Natesa wasn't really sure what possessed her to go to a bar. What did she think she was going to do there? She was technically underage; she shouldn't even have been let in in the first place. She definitely couldn't drink; she'd left her ID at home. She was too young, anyway. Not that she would drink, even if she could. She'd seen how it had affected her father, even if he desperately tried to hide all the alcohol. She'd found it in all sorts of places, under his bed, in a random cupboard. Once, she even found some in her closet. So, if she was trying to avoid the alcohol...why did she come to a place that would be full of it? She wasn't even going to bother answering that question. Maybe it was just so that she could get out of the house; do something that wasn't reading or messing around on Tumblr. Show her father that, yes, she was old enough to be out by herself and that she knew how to conduct herself. That she wasn't the idiot that she was always told she was. It was relatively dark inside the bar, and Natesa could feel herself blending in to the shadows, the darkness consuming her skin. She smiled at this. Now it would be even easier to remain unnoticed. Natesa loved her power; being the shy girl that she was, she didn't like being noticed or spoken to. It made her feel awkward, just in case she wrecked the conversation or offended the other person. So, being able to blend into her dark surroundings made her feel comfortable. However, she'd have to come out of the shadows if she was going to find a suitable place to sit and wait for the hour she'd allotted to go past before she could go home. She sighed, and slid out of the dark, making a few people jump with surprise. Oops, she hadn't quite meant to do that. Oh, well, she could worry about that later. She was out, and her father didn't know! How cool was this? All of a sudden, not very. A rather large man was stood in the way of where Natesa was trying to go. Every time she tried to slip past him, he moved in the direction that she was trying to go in, like some kind of crazy two step. She was seriously wanting to move back to the dark spots, see if she could find somewhere nice to sit there. But then, no one would see her. What if she was sat on, or something? Awkward much? She was just considering turning around and leaving, when the man cleared out of the way. She ducked past him quickly, trying to go past without much notice. But, of course, at that moment, she decided to trip, didn't she? Woohoo. Perfect. Wasn't Natesa just the biggest idiot in the world just then? "Whoopsie!" a voice said, and a pair of hands gripped her around the waist. She squeaked a tiny bit, because whoever caught her 1) surprised her and 2) reeked of alcohol. She shifted around slightly to be greeted by the face of a man who had to be around 45, and was quite obviously drunk. This frightened her a bit, as she tried to subtly wriggle free of the man's grip. "Erm...thank you...b-but I'm okay, I can...I can get up myself." the girl gabbled in an attempt to get free Oh, god, how awkward/scary was this? She felt...uncomfortable. Maybe she should have stayed at home, after all. Reading a book or messing around on Tumblr seemed a better alternative to this. OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 637

[ilyas aylin]

That was it, Ilyas thought to himself. One more drink, and he’d head home.

Home. He snorted at the thought. As if that sleazy motel at the edge of town could ever be worthy of the title ‘Home’. There wasn’t a place in the world that he could truly call ‘home’. Why was he even thinking about home? It was probably the liquor; he'd had too little of it tonight. He emptied his glass and ordered another drink, the last one of tonight. Or maybe not. He didn’t care.

There were a few screams coming from behind him, but Ilyas didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. Probably a group of girls, excited to run into each other in a place like this. Apparently, it was normal to hug each other when meeting. Ugh.. As long as nobody touched him, or they’d lose their hand, perhaps even more body parts. The man wasn’t in the best of moods this evening.

Yet, the next shriek that reached his ears was far from a cheerful one; it was filled with fear and discomfort. Ilyas knew the difference all too well; he’d heard it often. Too often. With his drink still in his hand, he averted his gaze over his shoulder, but he didn’t have to look very far. Just behind his chair was a girl, half on the ground, and a guy, old enough to be her father, with his hands around her waist; a very disturbing sight. Ilyas’ eyebrows furrowed instantly. Obviously, this wasn’t any of his business, but a girl as young as this one was had no business in a sleazy bar. And a guy as drunk as the one touching her had enough issues to call the cops on him.

Actions such as this were better not preformed when the blonde man was around. He had no trouble letting his fists talk for him and definitely not if he had a good reason for it. A young girl being bothered by an old guy was a very good reason. Then again, perhaps they’d came to this place together. Perhaps they were a couple; stranger things happened today. At times, Ilyas was too quick to judge, although he really didn’t have a good feeling about this. Casually, he took another few sips from his glass, but his eyes never left the scene playing right behind him, his eyes slightly narrowed. He’d give the guy a chance to back off. One chance. If he wouldn’t leave the young girl alone soon, or Ilyas got wind of the fact he bothered her in any way, the man would be having a really bad evening.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine Okay, so if she was completely honest, Natesa was already starting to freak out about this. How stupid was that? Very. This guy was drunk, and he seemed rather merry; it wasn't like he was going to try anything in a crowded bar, was it? And it didn't seem like he was going to get angry any time soon; although that could change at the drop of a hat. It was just his age, though...and the way he seemed intent on making sure she wasn't going anywhere by the grip on her wait...it was just...making her very, very uncomfortable. She was reminded of her father by this man in so many ways, although her father would never do something like what this guy was doing, even when he was drunk. This man was roughly the same age as her father, too, which made it even more unnerving. She really, really didn't like this one little bit. She wanted to be back home, in her pajamas watching a Panic! At The Disco Live In Denver video on YouTube and singing along, like she did most Friday nights. But, no, this particular night, she had to be a headstrong teenager who wanted to show her father what she had in her. This was all fairly in control right now...but that could change really quickly. "Look," she said, "I'm okay now, s-see? I'm not...falling anymore...you can let go?" Oh, that sounded so pathetic. Why didn't she just knee him and run or something? Bite him? Kick him? No, she couldn't. She was too nice for that. "Wharrif you trip again, girlie?" the man slurred, tightening his grip the tiniest bit. "Can' have you gettin' hurt, can we?" That made Natesa feel really, really uncomfortable. She couldn't make a scene; the guy seemed pretty harmless, but he was so...creepy. Natesa wasn't sure what to do. Should she scream? Try to run? Ugh, god, if only she'd stayed home. OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 343

[ilyas aylin]

He wanted to focus on himself, he really did. But the blonde man could hardly ignore what happened right behind him. Both because the two of them were getting louder, but also because the girl squirmed quite a bit and knocked against his barstool a couple of time. Now, normally, that would’ve very much annoying Ilyas; he just wanted to be left alone, getting wasted tonight. But the scene quickly got nastier. Why no one else even bothered to step up or say something to the drunk was a mystery to the blonde. He glanced over his shoulder again and caught the look in the drunk man’s eyes; a look he was very familiar with, since he’d often seen it in the eyes of someone he knew rather were. Knew.

Enough.

He hated having to be a hero; he wasn’t a hero, he was the bad guy. But nobody places their hand on a woman without her permission. And judging from the way this young one tried to escape his grip, the drunk hadn’t asked her for permission first. Before more damage could be done, Ilyas stood from his seat and nonchalantly turned towards the scene, glass still in his hand. His blue eyes rolled, because what he was about to do, he did so reluctantly. What a waste of a good drink..

With a swift movement, he sent the contents of his glass flying towards the drunken man, hitting him straight in the face with it. The cold would be enough to at least make him back off, for now. Somehow, it was slightly amusing seeing the man waggle backwards and trying to figure out what in the world had just happened. A faint smirk played on Ilyas lips, but it wasn’t for long.

As the drunk stumbled towards them again, Ilyas grabbed him by the collar. His voice was low and soft as he hissed something in the man’s ear; he made sure the girl wouldn’t hear. “Touch her again, and I’ll eat you for breakfast.” Without waiting for a reply, he pushed the man off and returned to his bar stool, but not before he shortly glanced at the young lady, just to check if she was alright.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine The next few moments went by in a blur for Natesa. One minute, she was trying to subtly squirm free of the man's hands; the next, she was leaning on the bar, one hand on the countertop, the other on her side, where one of the man's hands had been. She didn't look up for a moment; she already had a pretty good idea of what had happened. Someone had helped her out. She peeked out from behind the curtain of black hair that was separating her eyes from the scene, and saw that a tall, blond man had thrown his drink in the other man's face. Now he had him by the collar, whispering words that Natesa couldn't hear, but knew weren't exactly friendly. She looked away slightly then, down at the floor, feeling a bit...embarrassed. She'd been the reason this whole scene had played out. It had been her fault, too. Why'd she have to trip? Why'd she have to sneak out in the first place? Now that she thought about it...she'd been really, really stupid. What made her think that she had to prove anything? If she had proved anything, it was just that she was a bigger idiot than she was told she was. She chanced a look up from the ground, only to be greeted by a pair of concerned, ice blue eyes. It was only brief, but she knew that it had been the man that had had helped her out. She gave him a small, grateful nod, as if to thank him and tell him that she was fine. Well, she wasn't fine, but she'd...get over it? With one blink, Natesa slid off the stool that she was sat on, and back into the shadows. There was a reason she stayed there, and that was to avoid notice. OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 320

[ilyas aylin]

The pathetic excuse for a man stumbled on through the bar, almost as a predator still looking for his prey, but since he was too drunk to even realize who’d just thrown a drink at him, it wouldn’t be a very successful search. Good, cause Ilyas wasn’t in the mood to teach the guy an even bigger lesson. If he had to, he’d take him outside, though. That was actually the job of the bartender, but since he didn’t step up, sometimes one had to take matters into their own hands.

With a light pout, the blonde man gazed at his now empty glass. “Waste..” he muttered softly as the glass was entirely empty; not a single drop still remained. He had no choice but to order a new drink. The bill would be long tonight, and expensive. Not that he’d pay for it, but they’d learn that afterwards. Afterwards, when the man was long gone. He pondered whether that was really such a good idea, though, as this was the only bar in this god forsaken town and he’d need an alcohol boost more often than tonight.. Sighing, he leaned his elbows on the bar counter and his head in his hands, until he remembered the girl he’d just ‘rescued’ must’ve still been shaking in her boots.

He glanced to the side, to where he remembered last seeing her, but she’d vanished. The hell? Where’d she go? A few swift glances around resulted in seeing a bunch of people, but not the raven-haired girl, or was the alcohol affecting his judgment now? Ilyas raised an eyebrow; perhaps she wasn’t as shaken as he’d expected her to be. He gestured for the bartender to fill up his glass again and as soon as it was filled, he sipped from it again. His mind drifted off a little. Maybe the girl hadn’t really needed his help and he’d just made an absolute fool out of himself; not that he cared much about that, especially not after having some liquor. Or maybe, just maybe, she was now freaking out in a dark corner somewhere in this sleazy place.

The man picked up his glass and stool from his stool. There were way too many people here; even if he wanted to find someone in a crowd like this, it would likely be impossible. It wasn’t as if he cared, no. He just simply wanted to sit in a dark corner as well. Sitting at the bar often resulted in people, drunk or not, talking to him, which was more annoying than anything else when a man wanted to have a peaceful evening. Well, evening? Night, rather; it had to be past midnight by now.

Despite the crowdedness tonight, Ilyas managed to find himself an empty booth in the back of the room. Somehow, the music wasn’t as annoyingly loud here. Wow, he used the word ‘annoying’ a lot tonight. Next time, he’d purchase his own liquor and drink it in his motel room. No. No, he really wouldn’t. That was worse than spending time here. His eyes swiftly scanned the surroundings, but there was no sign of the girl. He shrugged. Perhaps she’d gone home.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine Well, the darkness of the shadows was certainly comforting for Natesa. She couldn't be seen; she was practically invisible. Time to start freaking out, now that nobody could see her. That was the Natesa way; she had to freak out over something. She went through all the same questions in her mind that she had at the time of that horrible thing happening. Firstly, why her? Why'd she have to be so damn stupid/clumsy/whatever the word was? She didn't know; maybe it was the airhead part of her from her mother's side of the family, she supposed. Secondly. Why'd she have to prove that she could do things? Surely her father already knew that she could? Why'd she have to prove it? Why couldn't she have just behaved like she was supposed to? Whyy couldn't she have just stayed home? Done some homework or something? And thirdly. Something was really irritating her; and that was the fact that she has not said a proper thank you to the man that had helped her.She looked around the bar for him, from the comfort of the shady area in which she was in, to find him at the bar, muttering something whilst looking at his glass. Oh, crap, he'd paid for that, and what? He'd ended up throwing it in some guy's face for Natesa. Well, didn't she just feel like the stupidest person alive? He seemed to be scanning the place, maybe looking for someone? ...Looking for her? She wasn't quite sure. But, either way, she felt indebted to him. And Natesa didn't like owing people. It just didn't seem fair on them. She decided that she couldn't leave the bar until she'd at least said a proper thank you. With a sigh, she cautiously slunk out of the dark, cautiosly peeking around for any creepy men that could be around. When she saw none, she slipped over to the back of the room, where she found the man was sitting, with a freshly refilled drink. "Uh...thanks," she said quitely, not quite looking him in the eye. She was embarrassed, and who could blame her? She'd just cased a scene in the middle of a crowded bar. "I was k-kind of...uh...yeah...stupid back there. So...thank you." She nodded once in his geerl direction, and looked at the drink he had in is hand. "I...th-think I kind of owe you one," she said. "How much did it cost to replace that? ..Do you...uh...want me to pay for it? OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 446

[ilyas aylin]

Maybe, just maybe, this night could still turn out to be alright. If from this moment on, no one would act too ignorant or deliberately bother the blonde man, perhaps he could forget about all the earlier events. It seemed the young lady had, and Ilyas wasn’t one to linger on such a thing. He had enough other things he lingered on and those were enough to cloud his mind on a daily basis.

For just a short moment, the man closed his tired eyes; it wasn’t even that late yet, but his eyes stung like crazy. Had it been a little more quiet in the bar, he surely would’ve heard the girl approach. But since the pounding music controlled his mind, he was quite startled when her shape suddenly doomed up by his side, like she appeared out of nothingness. Half of the contents of his glass, again, were spilled, but this time, Ilyas’ own had was the victim. Damn it.

He was ready to scold at the person, but quickly recognized it was a familiar face. And she still looked equally awkward as before. Had the guy been harassing her again? Ilyas sat up a little, probably without the intention of coming across as intimidating as he usually did but with a girl this skittish, chances were she’d run off in a second or so.

No, wait. She started to talk.

Well, it was at least decent of her to say a simple ‘thank you’. Honestly, the man had raised an eyebrow when she hadn’t earlier, but it was the way she said it now that made him frown slightly. And what she said afterwards made him frown even more. She called herself stupid, blamed herself for what happened; of course she would. She was exactly the type to do such a thing. Better to quickly erase that thought from her pretty little head. “No matter how stupid you were, he shouldn’t have touched you. Period.” He stated it harsh enough to leave no room for discussion. But she proved herself to be a real sweetheart when she offered to pay for his drink. Sweet, of simply feeling terribly guilty.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Ilyas said simply. There was no reason for this girl to feel guilty about what had happened, because it wasn’t her fault and the sooner she believed that as well, the better. It might help her to stop shaking as well, or perhaps, something else would. Ilyas gestured for the girl to sit down; he wasn’t at all good at this. “You want a.. soda?” There was a teasing glint in his eyes as he spoke. Ordering a soda in a bar was most rare. Especially for him.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine Natesa's eyes widened in shock when the man seemed to spill his drink. Oh, god, no. No no no no no. Damn. I surprised him. she thought in one huge rush, feeling immediately guilty. "Crap, sorry!" she gabbled. "Should have...uh...said something? Before I...came over here." She gave him a sheepish look, and nodded a little bit when he acknowledged her thanks, though he was frowning a bit. Well, yes, she had been rather stupid. But he had a point. The other guy just shouldn't have touched her. It was a bit...forward. And rather creepy, if you asked her. But, hey, he'd been drunk. And she;d been careless. She didn't think she had the place to argue it, though, because the man had stated it rather plainly. She didn't owe him anything? Pssh. Of course she did. Things could have got really nasty back there, and if he hadn't have done anything, it would probably have still be going on. She looked up at him with disbelieving eyes. "You're sure? she queried, pushing her black hair behind her ear. "I don't mind, honestly. In fact, I kind of...feel like I owe you something." She sat where he gestured for her to sit obediently; she felt kind of awkward about it, but didn't really think it was her place to say anything. He'd been kind to her, after all. However, she couldn't help but laugh the tiniest bit when he offered to buy her a soda. "Soda, in a fancy place like this?" she snickered weakly. "I think I'll pass. Thanks for the offer, though." OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 281

[ilyas aylin]

Oh, Ilyas knew that feeling well. The feeling of owing someone something; it was a terrible feeling and it made one so dependant. “It’s fine.” He hadn’t expected a little girl like this one to be able to startle him, but somehow, it nearly seemed as if she just appeared in the spot. That was ridiculous. People couldn’t be invisible; it was probably the booze. Then again, people usually also couldn’t make water freeze over simply by blinking their eyes..

The blonde man shrugged lightly just before taking another sip from his own glass. “Suit yourself.” It wouldn’t have been an issue to him to buy the girl a soda, but perhaps she would feel as if she owed him even more after that, so he couldn’t completely blame her for refusing. And besides, it saved him cash; yeah, he’d decided he’d better pay the bill tonight. After all, he still needed to visit this place from time to time and it’d be a little too soon to already be put on a ‘blacklist’ here. Instead of being stubborn today, he’d choose wisdom.

And yet, when the girl quietly took a seat on the other side of the booth, he couldn’t help but wonder why she did exactly what he gestured her to do. “Why’d you sit down?” he wondered, in an attempt to get an answer to the questions inside his head. She could’ve easily refused; why didn’t she. He didn’t force her to sit, unless she felt any other way. Though he doubted that, if she did feel forced, she’d admit such a thing to his face. She didn’t seem like the type to tell the truth, out of fear for the consequences. Ilyas always spoke the truth, despite the consequences. Some people could handle it, others decided to call him names for it, or worse. He cared not. He wasn’t a people pleaser and if you were annoying, he’d let you know. Wisest would be to learn from it and not bother him again, but most people weren’t very wise. Most people were dumber than monkeys.

Shortly, Ilyas studied the girl sitting across from him. Her hair was as black as the darkest night, while his was as pale as the mist on an early autumn morning, but she looked normal, nothing out of the ordinary. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, hoping it’d sound random like his previous questions had.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine The young night walker gave the smallest of nods toward the man that was sat on the opposite side of the booth. However indebted she may have felt toward him, he had made it rather clear that it was okay; that she didn't owe him a thing. She still disliked the feeling of dependency and debt toward him, bu he'd said it was fine, right? So why worry about it? She chuckled shortly and quietly. Soda in a bar seemed a bit low key and...normal. It just didn't seem like the type of thing one would have in a bar; people came to bars for the alcohol, didn't they? Well, okay, Natesa hadn't. She'd come for the atmosphere; anywhere where her father wasn't was good with her. She loved the man, but, sometimes, it seemed that he was too wrapped up in himself to care about her. So, yeah...most people came to bars for the alcohol. She blinked when she was asked why she sat down. Oh, god, what if she'd misinterpreted the gesture that he'd given her? How awkward would that have been? She really should have thought more. "Uh, why? Shouldn't I have sat down or something?" she queried, shuffling a bit. "I did because...I dunno...I figured I...don't want to be alone after that?" She gave the quietest, weakest laugh, and looked down at the table in front of her. She looked back up on the man's next words, and shook her head. He hadn't hurt her. Well, okay, maybe a tiny bit on her side where he'd held her, but that would soon pass. It was all okay. "N-No, he didn't hurt me." she stammered, fiddling with a lock of her raven hair. "Just...shook me up a bit...that's all." OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 316

[ilyas aylin]

The awkwardness of the young one made Ilyas chuckled lightly to himself. That probably didn’t help the girl’s selfesteem, but he truly couldn’t help it; clearly, she was very oblivious to what he meant. It wasn’t a problem. He’d explain it to her with pleasure. “Do you join any random guy for a drink after midnight, in a shady bar?” he wondered with a slightly tilted head, as he allowed the liquid in his glass to roll around, over the ice cubes; it needed to be chilled more. This time, she’d surely get it, wouldn’t she? Yes, the blonde man had come to her rescue a moment earlier, but who said his intentions weren’t equally disturbing? If this girl wouldn’t learn to stand up for herself, she could quickly get herself into a bunch of trouble. Her eyes needed to be opened.

A pretty girl such as herself was probably often harassed by horny guys; there wouldn’t always be one like Ilyas to beat the teeth out of their mouths. And since so far, no one in this bar even bothered to look up when all of the events played right before them, she didn’t have to count on anyone else’s help either. “What’s your name?” He hated having to ask that question actually, since it was always countered by the ‘What’s yours’ one, and that wasn’t something he preferred to answer to. But the girl was still trembling; the most casual questions would most likely make her feel more comfortable currently.

“Let me give you some advice.” Whether she wanted to hear it or not, he’d had enough drinks tonight to open his mouth and think his words contained wisdom. “I don’t care who you are. If anyone ever touches you without your permission, you do whatever you need to get them to back off.” As the words rolled over his lips, he realised this wasn’t the first time he’d given this exact advice to a woman; he’d told his sister the same thing. “No one is allowed to treat you that way.”

Whether or not she’d take his advice to heart was up to her. Whether or not he’d still remember her in the morning was to be seen later.

[natesa elise mayjor]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, background: #275a7d; padding: 4px; width: 400px; height: 300px; border-right: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-top: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-left: #5487ab 4px dotted; border-bottom: #5487ab 4px dotted;] walk past the dance floor that's always been a dear friend of mine Natesa gave an anxious blink as the man chuckled at her. Was she being some kid of idiot again? Most probably. It was Natesa. When was Natesa not an idiot? Rarely. When she was behind a computer screen. No, even then she could be an idiot. Tumblr was too addictive, she swore to god. But anyway. Back to what the guy was saying. Oh, and yeah. She couldn't help but laugh at herself a little bit too. "My dad always did say that I trusted people too quickly," she snickered quietly, with a small wave of her hand. Yes, that could be a bad thing, and yes, that could get her into trouble. But Natesa liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. It was only fair, wasn't it? Natesa certainly thought so. It was easier, too. It caused so much less stress. "Natesa." she murmured when asked what her name was. "My name's Natesa." In her completely stupid and shaken daydreamy haze, she didn't quite register that she had forgotten to ask this man's name, like it would be polite to do. But she wasn't thinking about that; she was just listening to what this man was telling her. It seemed like pretty good advice, actually, should anything like this ever happen again. "Uh, well...thank you for that," she said, nodding up at him, her crystal blue eyes wide and eager, trying to store all the information that she had just been told. "I...I'll remember that. Could come in handy some day, couldn't it?" Oh, dear god, she hoped not. Not again. The first time had been awkward and scary enough; a second time? Natesa wouldn't be able to handle that. OUTFIT: CLICKY! TAGGED: ILYAS NOTES: SORRY IF IT MAKES NO SENSE, I'M TIRED xD WORD COUNT: 294

[ilyas aylin]

There was something about this girl. Ilyas wasn’t sure whether he felt sorry for her or simply guilty for not treating her a little more nicely; she seemed so fragile, like if he’d snap at her even a little, she’d break down and cry. He wasn’t usually the guy to make young ladies cry. There was something about her, though, that reminded him of Yaira, his sister. Quite silly, actually, because the two of them probably couldn’t be more opposite. Yaira was outgoing and bubbly, talked to whoever she thought would listen and didn’t stop until she’d spilled all the stories she had to tell. This girl, Natesa, seemed to prefer to speak as little as possible. Actually, when he gave it a moment of thought, Ilyas came to the conclusion that she was probably more similar to himself.

“Natesa is an.. interesting name,” he said. Not meant to be insulting, but it was a name he’d never heard before. Then again, he own name was rather rare as well. Just the way he liked it. It meant no one could ever compare him to someone they’d previously met; not that such a thing was truly a possibility, since he didn’t give his name to strangers, crazy as it might seem, but still. The man liked his privacy, he liked to stay anonymous in the placed he’d visit. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Natesa, but I’d lie.” That must’ve sounded particularly cold to the girl, he thought as he heard his own words roll over his lips. It wasn’t exactly the way he meant it, but that was a tough thing to admit to. He rather hadn’t met this girl tonight, since that meant she wouldn’t have been in the situation she was in earlier.

It could’ve been the booze, or just the events of tonight, or perhaps it was the fact that this young girl seemed so frail, but Ilyas did feel a bit guilty for the tone he’d used with her. Clearly, he wasn’t himself tonight. “Under the circumstances, I mean,” he added a bit reluctantly, hoping Natesa wasn’t offended too much by his little snap. “Ilyas. My name is Ilyas.” Why the hell did he say that? Was he truly feeling guilty enough towards this lady to confess his darkest secret; his name? Damn. And now that he’d said it, there was no going back. She probably already thought he was her hero, now she’d think he was soft too. Fabulous.

The glass was emptied in another big gulp, the alcohol instantly clouding his mind. “Why are you here anyway? Aren’t you a little young?” Quickly changing the subject would help. He’d said his name softly, maybe she hadn’t heard, or maybe it’d be too difficult for her to remember. Or maybe enough liquor would erase it from Ilyas’ mind.