Kristopher

I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I stared at her, watching her from my room window leave the mansion.

What was she doing leaving? The snow hadn't stopped or subsided, if anything, it had gotten worse.

Standing up here, from my room, I couldn't see much but she struggled to walk as her heeled boots got stuck in the snow.

Why was she so stubborn? She never listened.

I sighed softly, my eyes following her till he walked out the gates.

I worried for her, more than I should. More than I needed to.

I couldn't blame myself, the world I lived in was a dangerous one. She wasn't ready for it yet. I doubt I was ready to let her in myself.

For now, All cared about was her safety. Her family could keep the house-

Wait! What did I just say?

My eyes widened and furrowed as realization dawned on me.

"What the Fuck.." I muttered, trailing off as I pinched the bridge of my nose and stared down.

All the way from the nightstand, my phone made a familiar ringtone, one I always get alongside a text message.

I made my way to the stand.

It was Micah.

Apparently, her friends had seen the article about Micah and Me and were expecting us for a hang out tomorrow.

Her friends? I'm not really sure I like those set of individuals. Well the last time we met, Micah had gotten drunk and verbally abused me.

It was the night Camille lost her life.

I closed my eyes as all sorts of memories flashed back, memories I was certain I didn't want to remember.

Memories that only reminded me of how much I had failed, not just Camille but the child she was carrying.

Fuck! I needed an out route.

I don't care, who or where, I just needed to forget all these...all these feelings,  all these voices that define me.

I immediately grabbed my suit jacket, sprinting out of my room.

Running down the staircase, the voices didn't stop.

'You're a failure, a     disappointment.'

'You'll never be good enough.'

"Fuck you." I mumbled each time I heard those voices. They caused a sharp pain to me, like the scratching of metal keys on a metal pole.

**
When I thought 'Escape from my reality', a strip club wasn't the first thing that came to my mind, but here I found myself.

It amazed me how people could still make it here despite the harsh weather- I wasn't one to talk though.

I glanced at the ladies who made thier way inside, only in pieces of lingerie and thier curves exposed and anticipatingly waiting to be massaged in the most kinky way.

I easily got into the VIP center, there wasn't a thing in the world wads of cash couldn't get for you.

The whole club was all underneath me, I could see the whole club, simply by looking down at the glassed floor.

I gulped down the glass of whiskey Infront of me, the bitter sour flavor burned the back of throat and I liked it.

I stared with expectancy at the ladies who surrounded me one by one, the loud music, bursting my ear drums.

I smirked, maintaining eye contact with one particular which grabbed my attention. She reminded me of Micah.

Fuck! I growled, my smile instantly disappearing. I came here to forget and possibly suppress my growing feelings for Micah, and here I was, thinking about her.

My eyes shot up to one of the girls as soon as she held my shoulder.

What was wrong with me? I have craved touch for the longest time and now? It just felt wrong, I felt guilty.

I shoved those pathetic thought away as I leaned back on the soft leather cushion, slightly opening my legs. Three of the girls walked to the pole and began entertaining me, swaying thier hips and showing off thier gorgeous exposed skin.

I bet Micah doing this would be more entertaining.

Fuck. I did it again.

The fourth girl sat on my lap, massaging me slowly.

My hand snaked round her and finally rested on one of her exposed cheeks. She tugged my collar, changing her position. Now resting her knees on my lap and pressing her breasts in my face.

She began dancing to the music on my lap, repeatedly throwing her breasts further into my face.

Something I wouldn't say I didn't enjoy.

My large hands grabbed her ass, pulling her closer to myself, she bent a little, her warm wet tongue playing with my neck.

I threw my head back, enjoying every moment of this until Micah popped into my head, I imagined her, standing by the walls with her arms folded. Staring at me..
Disappointed.

I immediately threw the black haired who was eating my neck out down.

"Let's get out of here." I said huskily, standing up from my sitting position.

She nodded, with a smirk on her face and immediately stood up.

I made it out of the VIP into the normal club and began making my way to the exit, pushing away horny broke asses.

I suddenly stopped as I sighted Micah, she was in a black leather  swimsuit which exposed her arms, cleavage, ass cheeks, thighs and long legs. She was also dressed in fluffy bunny ears and a tail with a tray in her hand and her hair packed in a bun.

What the hell is she doing?

She passed through dirty savages, middle aged old men getting high on expired weed and cheap cigarettes.

One particular bastard had the audacity to slap her ass cheek as she passed.

I saw red, leaving behind the stripper and walking hurriedly to Micah.

"Micah." I called as I grabbed her wrist aggressively.

The brunette turned to me shocked. "What the Fuck?" Her eyes questioned me.

I had never felt so humiliated as I realized that that wasn't Micah. She looked like Micah but her eyes were golden brown instead of Micah's coffee ones.

"Who are you?" She forcefully disengaged her wrist from me, moving a step backward. Her eyes looked young and frightened and soon everyone's eyes turned to me.

"I thought you were someone else." I said dryly, my eyes searching the club for where my little stripper could've gone.

"Well I'm not. Apologize." She demanded. She had the same fire in her eyes, the same Micah always had when talking to me.

"Who...are you?" I found myself asking, rather quizzically. My eyes run up and down her body. This wasn't Micah, so why did everything she did, her mannerisms scream Micah.

I need a fucking break.

Wait-

It was all coming to me, I finally remembered where I had seen this young lady. I knew I had seen her. That day, about a month ago, when I had gone to The House where the Harlan family resides, I had seen her. She was there. She might not be Micah but she sure is related to her.

"Do you...by any chance, know Micah Harlan?" Her eyes widened slightly as she looked more fearful than bold and daring, which she had looked a minute ago.

My eyes scanned her once again, her lean yet properly endowed body, up to her young and innocent face behind all the glares and under all the make up.

"Are you even up to eighteen?" I blurted out. Believe me, I didn't mean it as an insult.

Not suprisingly, she gave me one final glare before taking to her heels and running, pushing people away.

Did she actually expect me to run after her into midnight?

This wasn't a fucking Cinderella movie.

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