Not for all the love in the world.

Driving down the streets of Los Angeles were never subtle for me and I normally avoided it at all costs, but not with Shelby. She thrived on attention, she wanted me to show her off. We were in a vintage blue mustang convertible. The top was down and wind was whipping through her thick black hair. The sun was setting and cast a pink glow over the horizon.
The place we were headed was exclusive she had told me, beaming at the fact she'd found somewhere that I'd agree to go. Her light green eyes glanced at me occasionally, but only to make sure I was paying attention.
Arriving at a more grimy part of town I felt my excitement fading, this looked sketchy at best.
"Come on." She said, giving me a wink as we neared the entrance. There was a slim black door with a small mail slot near the top, just above eye level for Shelby. Whoever was on the other side slide the slot open, but did not say a word. "Twinkle, twinkle little scar." The words flowed melodically from Shelby's lips and almost as soon as she'd finished speaking the door opened.
She took my hand and pulled me behind her, the black dress she wore stuck to her skin and left very little to the imagination, not that it was easy to see anything in there. The lights were low and it smelled of cigarette smoke mingled with alcohol and regret.
"Keep up." Shelby called. Her hand was clutching a thick black curtain that hung from the ceiling, once she pulled it back we were met with a dim lit lounge with deco style tables lining the wall. There was a band on stage, with horns and strings and a tall, slender, African songstress right in the front. Her hands clutched the microphone as she crooned rhythm and blues that would turn anyone on. Shelby and I followed a petite waitress to the corner where a table was set exclusively for us. "Drinks?" The short, blonde waitress whose name tag indicated her name was "Maggie" asked as we situated ourselves.
"Go ahead and bring us a bottle of your best champagne. What would you like babe?" Shelby's piercing eyes looked to me, I knew she intended to drink every drop of that champagne by herself. And I was going to pay for it. "Gin, please." I said giving Maggie a smile.
"Coming right up." She said before turning to walk back to the bar. I looked her over; short curly blonde hair that bounced with each step, a sparkling silver dress decorated her curvy body, and she had on a pair of tall heels that made me worry for her safety. She was beautiful.
"Jesus Harry. Be more obvious?" Shelby called from beside me. You'd think, with her being a photographer she'd appreciate beauty in everything. She only saw my admiration as a misogynistic longing that males were hard wired with. "Don't start, please." I said while shaking a hand through my hair.
"I know how hard it is. Giving all your attention to your girlfriend. Since you're so fucking high and mighty." She scoffed, she was truly over dramatic. "Please, love." I turned toward her, reaching for her hand.
"There is no one more beautiful than you. My eyes see no others. Do not be confused." I was so used to saying these words, they almost sounded scripted. I meant them though. I was a faithful man, my mother taught me to appreciate and respect a woman. I would never step out on Shelby.
She let out a sigh and then her lips pulled into a smile. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek softly as she embraced me. "I'm sorry baby. I'm just a little on edge, you understand?" She bat her long lashes at me, knowing I would take any word she gave me.

I was a sucker.

As the night progressed she grew more intoxicated with each passing moment. The bottle of bubbly was down to the very bottom, her mood had become better though. So I couldn't be too mad.
We danced tightly together on the dance floor, the slow beats of the music intensifying each touch as she swayed her hips against mine. She was a work of art really. Long dark hair, plump lips that were slicked with Chanel lip gloss, bright green, almond shaped eyes that resembled a cat. She resembled a cat in so many ways. She was hot and cold, sneaky and abrupt. She could have been a model. Her body was so thin, but her hips were perfectly proportioned to her waist. She could have been a super model.

"Take me home baby..." She breathed into my ear, letting me know what she was ready for. I paid our bill and took her out the side door, my car inconspicuously parked near an private exit so that it would be less visible to the public. She put on some slow reggae beats as we drove through the hills. Smelling the eucalyptus trees mingled with a burning smell from a nearby forest fire that had erupted earlier that week.

"Make love to me baby..." She plead after we had gotten into the condo- the moonlight creeping through the tall Windows as she peeled that dress from her body, tossing it carelessly to the side.
I made love to her, I always give her what she wants.
She manipulates everyone she meets.

I feel perplexed, because you see...

I'm not entirely mad that she's dead.

Notes

Finally got a chance to update! Stay tuned for some crazy twists and turns and any zayn fans may enjoy this story particularly. :D

Comment. Rate. Subscribe. x