Lipstick

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He hates red lipstick.

He says it makes me look like a whore.

Sometimes i paint my lips red … sometimes.

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You know how the air grows thicker, seems to shift and change? That’s how it was that night. It is something you just feel – like eyes upon you, when someone is staring you down. It was that same sensation that fell over me, and I knew the moment he’d found me …

… I felt him long before my eyes found him there, in the shadows – watching. His expression was hard, and his eyes … god, those eyes had always been my undoing. I instinctively became defensive, though I had nothing to hide – not from him – nothing, of course, except my red lips; which always ignites his anger, and his appetite.

A whore’s lips and a strange man.

***

I sensed him from across the room. His anger pulsed like an electrical charge – aimed directly at me. When our eyes met, I felt the stain on my cheeks first, then the heat of shame, for having been so painfully inconsiderate and neglectful of his feelings.

I had been so pleasantly surprised and excited to hear from my long-time friend Zeke, that I hadn’t even bothered, nor taken the time to call, and let him know that I’d be meeting an old friend, from out-of-town, for drinks at our old stomping grounds, Le Dragon Rouge. There was live music, selective clientele, a dark ambience, and after hours – an underground success. The kind of place one can get used to, or get lost in if one isn’t careful.

I kept no secrets, so it was no mystery that this might be where to find me.

But I hadn’t called. I’d lost track of time, and my watch now read 11:27, dammit.

The club regulars, some with familiar faces, had begun milling into the place: The party crowd had arrived, and the band was profane and loud.

It would have been impossible over the blare of bass-driven psychedelia and the din of voices, to tell my friend that I needed to go for a few minutes, so I took him by the hand, gestured with the motion of powdering my nose, a nod of the head, and excused myself with a wink.

I grabbed my clutch, and headed straight for the ladies room.

***

My heart sank.

I was here with a stranger. One he didn’t know; had never seen. A very handsome man, at that: My incredibly attractive, out-going, well-built, charming, and very funny, yet very -gay- best friend. But, He didn’t know that. All he knew was that I was in a club that catered to those of, shall we say, a certain ilk, with a man he’d never met – with crimson-stained lips, dressed in black, wearing corset boots and a shorter-than-normal skirt.

***

When I exited the ladies lounge, he was there.

Before I could open my mouth to explain, or even catch a breath, he had taken me by the arm, and with a violent tug, pulled me away from the doorway and bounced me against the wall. He leaned into my face, placing his hand on the wall beside my head, and that’s when I felt my knees go weak. He closed in, brushing my nose with his; close enough to kiss me, but he had no such inclination – his dark eyes said something far different.

He took my face in his right hand, on either side of my mouth, and shook, squeezing my cheeks so hard that it forced stinging tears to my eyes. I could taste the iron of my blood in my mouth, ever so slightly. He looked down at my lips, back into my glistening eyes, and with a venemous sneer, he seethed, ‘So, who’s the lucky guy?’ I closed my eyes, and shook my head, knowing what he must be thinking. My eyes snapped open when he squeezed my face still harder, then proceeded to shove my head backward, which met the wall with a painful thud, surprising me.

The music had stopped, completely unnerving me. Bad timing … just my luck.

Before I could gather my thoughts enough to begin, he had dropped his hand to my chest, tracing the top of my minimally visible cleavage with his fingers. As he watched my chest rise and fall more rapidly with every passing moment, he drew in a deep breath, and took notice of my heart pounding against its cage. I felt the heat rise between us, and I couldn’t speak. I could feel his exhalations against my skin, and suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable.

I involuntarily slid down the wall. He lifted my chin with his finger, looked into my eyes and hissed into my face, ‘DO. NOT. make me repeat myself. I asked you a question.’ I lowered my eyes, feeling absolute defeat.

It wasn’t until he let the back of his fingers stroke from my chin, then slid his hand up the side of my neck, and into my hair, pulling and forcing my head back, that my body betrayed me. It responded by letting a strangled cry escape my half-parted lips. And in a quavering, breathless voice, all I could manage was, ‘Not here, please … not now. People are watching. I’m sorry.’ I felt a tear slip across my temple, and slide into my hair, warming my ear.

Damn you – stop getting me so … let me explain, dammit.

The tear was the trigger. His eyes widened, then quickly narrowed, his jaw ticked and he flatly stated, ‘Strike a nerve, did we? Why the tears, ma cher.’ He was looking into more than just my eyes.

He released my hair, backing away from me. Out of some black, angry place, he demanded, ‘Open your legs,’ and stoically watched as I wrestled with his command. ‘NOW!’, he impatiently barked into my face, making me jump.

He casually reached down for my hand, I erroneously thought, and removed the clutch from my very firm grip, then tucked it neatly away into the inside, left pocket of his overcoat.

He lifted an eyebrow with a penetrating look that effectively made time feel as if it had slowed to a crawl. The air became thicker, the voices seemed muted and far away, my ears began to ring mildly, the vision of my peripheries blurred and my nasal membranes even felt swollen. What an odd reaction, I pondered a moment, before shaking myself out of the fog. All I could focus on was his eyes.

I realized that arguing would be unwise and futile. And so, to prevent drawing any further unwanted attention, I straightened my back, keeping my knees slightly bent, placed my palms flat against the wall, and did as I was told.

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Lipstick: Pt. II …

~ by osmosisofaffliction on November 14, 2009.