lift

Amelia opens the clasp on her dainty, silver chain necklace. Her dark red nails chips as she pushes the o-ring down, hooking the smaller ring through it. Once it's on her neck, Amelia pushes the clasp to the back of her neck, letting the amethyst pendant nestle into her cleavage. Her hands smooth her purple flowery dress, sweat spreading onto the thin material from her palms. Amelia takes three deep breaths.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this," She repeats absentmindedly to herself under her breath. All Amelia has to do is go to this wedding, get through the night, and go back to her hotel room. She takes a final long look herself. Someone depressed and anxious stares back at her, their shit brown eyes hollow and dead. The bags under her eyes purple, almost black, from lack of sleep. Their lips are chapped, dried blood caked onto the corners from all the lip biting, holding back thoughts and emotions from the outside world. Their expression is pained, haunted; as if the amount of suffering they have collected is too much to bare. Amelia feels nothing towards the person who glares lifelessly back at her. The longer she blinks, the longer the shadow stares, the longer she looks she loses faith that any of this is real. 

Pulling herself away from the mirror, Amelia steps into her black high-heeled boots and does up the gold zip at the back. She doesn't take a purse, keeping her phone in her hand so she can make a smooth exit if need be. Closing the door behind her, she locks it and puts the key card into her phone case. As Amelia walks down the stairs she begins to wonder why she is even doing this. Why should she spend a whole night pretending to be happy because her sister is getting married?

It doesn't make sense. But then again, She promised to be there for her sister, and she isn't one to break a promise. 

Amelia pushes the button on the lift and waits for it to open. She tucks her phone into her bra and flips her head over, fluffing her curls. She straightens up again just as the door to the lift opens. A man stands in the corner, Amelia blushes, her hair falling over her eyes as it settles into place. She steps into the lift, on the opposite corner. Amelia glances over to the tall man. Her breath gets caught in her throat. This man is startlingly beautiful, there is no other way to describe it. His suit is black, his shoes black, his hair black. His eyes, black. His aurora, black. Amelia feels a instinctive pull towards him, her heart rate increasing. 

"You going to keep staring, or talk to me?" The man says, his voice deep and husky. He hasn't once looked up at her.

"Oh-um. S-sorry about that. You look like someone i used to know," Amelia lies, her brain going a million miles an hour. 

"Mm. I get that alot. So, bride or groom, angel?" The man says with a smile, his teeth flashing white.

Amelia almost stops breathing, did he just call her angel? She has never met this man in all her life and the lust towards him- No. Amelia tells herself that this is not the way this is going to go, because she does not need some mysterious man sitting in her concious throughout her sisters wedding. 

"The bride is my sister. But you could say neither. I'm not really wanted at this wedding, if i'm being honest."

"Why would you say that, princess?" He says, his tone playful and toying. He knows that his nicknames are getting to Amelia's head.

"Hey, look. I don't know you, so i am not about to spill my entire fucking life story to you, just because i think you're sexy and mysterious- fuck-um"

Amelia blushes, not realising what she's said until it's too late. Her words hang think and heavy in the small space. The man moves closer to him, his smell reaching her. He smells like heartbreak and danger. Pain and anguish. And she loves it. He moves so close to her that their bodies are touching. He is a foot taller than she is, so Amelia has to strain her neck to see him. His breath smells like mint, hers probably smells like vodka from last night. Amelia makes an effort not to look into his eyes, she knows that one look into those eyes and it's game over before it's even started. 

The man puts his arms on Amelia's waist and picks her up off the floor effortly, pushing her against the wall. He breathes into her open mouth, she looks into his eyes. His eyes. Amelia looses herself in those eyes. Dark brown, almost black, dazzling gold flecks making him seem almost divine. Her legs are wrapped around his body, Amelia is almost certain that he will be able to feel her heat. Her panties are soaked with the feeling of his bulge pressed against her. 

Into Amelia's mouth, the man breathes, "What's your name, precious?" The way he says it makes her smile involuntarily.

Amelia gasps breathlessly. The use of the word making her want him even more. "Amelia."

"Hmm. Amelia," The man says, his deep voice making her name sound exotic and daring.

"W-what's yours?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out."

The man drops returns her to the floor just as the doors open and he strolls out. Amelia's legs wobble. 

"What the fuck just happened?"