This is what it means to be a woman in this world. Every step is a bargain with pain. Make your black deals in the black wood and decide what you’ll trade for power. For the opposite of weakness, which is not strength, but hardness.
Soil sucking up the water of his touch meant the drink landed on his lips faster than he could consume. Thumb and forefinger a needed anchor as the weight of the empty shell dangled after ingestion, suspended at a high altitude and ready to be sacrificed to the floor for dramatic impact. Theatrics reined in with a composure that oversaw all his performances, sober or not, meant that the cup was left to partner with the bottle of bourbon. “Ava If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were startin’ to rouse a brawl by attackin’ my outward projections, rampant commentary runnin’ on high volume so that I need to go provin’ my efficacy as a man.”
Half of a cheek falling off stool surface to adjust his position, left leg went out to support in case of unsteady performance by lazy limbs. Creak of cheap materials shifting within their build announced his transferal of energy, a possible flare of weakness to what was beginning to look more akin to a predatory meltdown. As if on queue the aforementioned onlooker descended from his perch and began stalking in a thicken mount of rock on mud, forearms loose and dangling in prehistoric throwback. Every step forward being perceived with a fierce focus Boyd watched as the monster’s mass made quick work of any free air around Ava, a full eclipse of her being.
Maybe it was bothering him, maybe it was the influx of booze and the demolition of braincells that had him slip from the icy surface of his seat. Maybe it was all those men he had to bury with his bare hands, the realization of failure on his part, his separation of God, from ideals stronger than him. Maybe it was all those formulations that he had brought to light only to realize his entire function in life was moot, that he was about to revolve in a constant circle of uselessness, a product without proper function in a universe of infidelity.
…maybe.
“-I ain’t ever started anythin’ in my whole life I wasn’t ready to finish.”
“Now, hold on a minute.” Golden crescents creased. “You think I’m the kind’a gal who’d try startin’ a fight? You think I’m pickin’ on you, Boyd?” Weight of predacious hues went ignored and attention distracted itself with obvious inquiry. Palaver saturated in bitterness, it was evident he struck a nerve. Her observation wasn’t what he’d perceived. “You should ‘least know by now that I ain’t the type.” Sweeping beer from bar top, glass brim hovered close to lips as inebriated azures honed in on blurred emeralds. “But if I was, I’d do somethin’ like this.” Sousing glossa in barley savored carbonation, empty glasswork dashed onto finished lumber and beaming visage sharply turned in the stranger’s direction. Slender limb lifted, digits requesting his presence into personal proximity with a simple wave.
“I’m sorry, but my friend and I couldn’t help but noticin’ your starin’ at me and I hate to break it to you hunny, but..” Fingers fumbled to feather palomino forelock from porcelain aspect. “—Staring won’t give you the power to see through my clothes, so I’d appreciate it if you’d quit your fuckin’ starin’,” words lazily fell from lush lips as single sapphire nictitated. Ava held up physically well when seated in state of intoxication, but her tell would always be inability shut her trap when necessary. Nimble dactyls dug through purse and procured Marlboro light box, allotting the man a moment to reply.
“—S’a free country lady, relax. Take it as a compliment.“
Small scoff escaped vexed lips, cork filter threatening to fall from velvet inlet as dustup carried on. “Yeah well, I just hope you mem’rized my face good ‘nough to describe me to the police after I kick your sorry butt. Ain’t your momma teach you no manners? Starin’s plain rude, now I’m askin’ you nicely one last time t’keep your pervert eyes elsewhere.” It wasn’t long before the man’s patience began to dwindle with boisterous belle. “You gonna spank me if I don’t?” Dog’s thick brows extricated sly and subtle means, behaving cocksurely would not sit well with Ava.
The temperature in the room climbed, sanguine liquid simmering within navy ducts as posy cheeks flushed with irritation. Honing in on the empty Budweiser awaiting purpose, talons maladroitly swooped in around bottleneck to carry it away in full flight.
“—No, I’mma shove this bottle up your creepy fuckin’ ass instead.”
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