bella bars

acquainted

Minseok x Reader
Genre: smut/fluff? It’s a mess.
Length: 3.7K words

Summary: You meet Minseok in a bar and swear that you know him from SOMEWHERE but have no idea where, but now you have to do something about it.

A/N: One Shot Challenge taken with @soobadnoonecanstopher, @thesammtimes, @3kpop2jagi1, @xiubaek13, and @forexcapism

~R


Happy hour on a Monday night. It may not be your ideal place to spend your hours after work, but in the end, you were glad you went.

After a pretty uneventful, yet somewhat relaxing christmas and new year’s break, you had to return to the grind of work upon the new year. Seeming as if you’d never even left, there lie all of your lesson plans stacked on your desk, just the way you had left it. Perfect.

You were a school teacher and you loved it, but that isn’t to say that you loved Mondays. In fact, collectively, the entire human race probably hates mondays just as much, especially students + teachers.

After a rigorous first day back, a few of your co-workers decided to go out to a local bar, celebrating the survival. When they invited you to tag along, you were all too fake excited to join, and to your dismay they bought it. All you wanted to do was go home, and drink in the comfort of our own home.

Reluctantly, you followed through and joined them.

“Okay, wait, I need to say something,” Ahn starts off, “can you believe the bull- ,” and there she goes, the more vivacious of the four of you, talking about all the bullshit the supervisor is already putting her through as the school’s secretary. She continues on her rant with the help of two more shots while the rest of you cheekily sip on your drinks, giggling and joining in the conversation with her.

After your first drink was long gone, you started to tune the group out and scan the rest of the bar. You can’t help but notice that there are far more people than you would have expected here on a Monday night. As you’re looking towards your right, you feel someone bump into your left arm, causing you to swiftly turn your head around to look at the person who just briefly invaded your space.

“Oh, excuse me.” The voice says as you feel a hand quickly reach back to rest on your arm and that’s when you froze. His voice smoothe, eyes so dark you saw a slight glimmer of light in them. And a sharp tingle trickled down your back.

“It’s fine,” you reply, holding onto his glance a little too long.

He hardly even looks at you a second longer before turning around and walking away. Your eyes fixate on the back of his head, watching him as he walks away. He turns around once, making eye contact with you. A sudden feeling of familiarity washes over you, he smiles back at you and winks your way before turning back around. Your mind starts to travel almost at the speed of light trying to figure out where you knew this person from. You just can’t erase the image of those dark crescent shaped eyes from your brain.

“Oh, Y/N! He is a baaabe!” Ahn says, cutting your thoughts short as her slightly drunken voice takes over.

“Yeah, did you see the way he looked at you? With those dangerous eyes of his,” your other co-worker, Rei teased.

“What? You’re joking, right? The guy hardly even looked at me, y’all. It was nothing.” You respond, looking back in his direction.

“If it was nothing then why are you still checking him out even though he’s miles away?” Ahn challenged you, to which you could only roll your eyes in response.

You thought about it more, and realized maybe you were looking at him longer than necessary. However, you just couldn’t shake the feeling of distinctly remembering him from somewhere. Because you had seen him before. The question was, where?

“Hey, I’m going to the bathroom, okay?”

“Ooo! Okay, well go on over to the bathroom! While you’re at it, go get that babe’s number!” Ahn says, already on her second round, she gets way too invested in your love life when she’s had a few drink in her.

“Shut up, Ahn. I actually have to pee. Is that a problem?”

She waves her hand at you, woosh-ing you away and with that you smirk, walking towards the bathroom.

As you made your way to the bathroom, weaving around other slightly tipsy strangers, it hit you.

You did know him! You quickened your pace, making a beeline to the back of the bar where the noise wasn’t as loud. You pulled out your phone and called your best friend.

“H-hello?” She answers with a raspy voice, and you knew you had woken her up.

“J! What was the name of that strip club we went to last year? On your birthday?” You asked, not even realizing it’s 11pm, explaining why she was asleep, if the baby’s asleep, then she’s asleep.

“Look, you know I need this time to sleep, Y/N, right?”

“I’m sorry! But just tell me, do you remember that bar? The one where we saw that very specific dancer. The main performance of the night, light skin, jet black hair, and sharp, crescent shaped eyes.” You voice stops short after that brief description as you caught a glimpse of him from where you were standing. That has to be him. No one else could look that good.

With no response from your friend, you grunt and say one last detail, “you kept saying that it looked like he wanted to take me to the back and give me a special dance.”

“Bar Bellas!” She shouts into the phone. She’s completely awake now and one hundred percent invested into your late night phone call.

“Yes! That’s the one! I’m at this bar with some co-workers and this guy bumps into me.” You continue to retell the events of the night that brought you to this particular phone call, “I thought I knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t place where.” You catch a glimpse of him again from where you’re standing, “I think he’s here.”

“You need to get off the phone and go talk to him! Maybe ask him if he’s still down for giving you that special dance.” She jokes.

“Go to sleep.” You respond, knowing you secretly wouldn’t mind a special dance from him. But you couldn’t let anyone else know that.

“Hey, you have to break the ice some way.” She says before hanging up.

You know she’s right, but there is no way in hell that you are going to actually ask him that, not right away at least. Were you actually going to confront him? And what would you say and how would he react to you? Do you go back to the table? Or to him?

All these questions started to form in your mind, the nerves getting to you, it was all becoming too much to handle. You were seconds away from walking towards your table when your phone chimes.

[11:14] J:  Don’t you even think about walking back to your table without going to talk

  to the hottie beforehand. LOVE U!

She knows you all too well.

A waitress was roaming the bar, handing out specialty drinks of the night. As she was crossing your path, you grabbed one from her and took a few sips. Your feet started to move slowly towards the black couch, eyes fixated on him, mind deciding on the right words to form.

Alcohol clearing buzzing your mind, you felt a slight wave of confidence hit you. Your feet began to move a bit faster now, as the dark haired guy became clearer with each step. The voices of the people around you became inaudible, your senses seemed to only fixate on him. And now, standing in front of him, you watch as he scrolls through his phone with one hand and his drink in the other.

Clearly unaware of his surroundings, you sit beside him on the leather sofa, taking in the last sip from your drink.

“Bar Bellas,” you say, looking at him and taking in the smell of his sharp cologne.

“Hmm?” He hums, after he takes a sip from his drink. You watch as the muscles in his face contract, while he lets the alcohol slowly make its way down.

“That’s where I’ve seen you.” You state, twirling your empty glass in your hand.

He turns his attention towards you, his crescent shaped eyes scanning you from head to toe. It makes you feel hot just watching as he takes in your form with his eyes.

“Is that so?” He asks coolly, looking back at his phone. “You think I would be hanging out at a place like Bar Bellas?” Another sip.

“Well,” you start, “more like working at Bar Bellas.” You smirk as you notice his eyes look away from his phone but they look at any specific thing, just straight ahead. The beginnings of a smirk forms on his face before quickly vanishing.

“It’s you, right?” You ask, pushing him a bit. You continue, “you were on the main stage that night… the main performance… the big surprise of the night. You performed quite the number, sir.” At that, you weren’t sure if the last word sounded as sexual outloud as it did in your head.

“And what makes you think that was me up there? The ‘big surprise’?” He asks, locking his phone before tucking it into his pocket. You have his full attention now. Jackpot.

“Because I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

You lock eyes with him, flashes of that night appear in your mind. You begin to remember seeing him shirtless on the stage, skinny white jeans hugging his legs. He let his body roll and move so swiftly with the music. You remember feeling every hip thrust he made against the air that night, you also remember him making eye contact with you while he gave some tipsy woman a lap dance for three minutes.

“Ah, flattery.” He chuckles, “you use it well, darling.” He leans closer to you, letting his leg touch yours as he takes another sip from his drink. Heat begins to radiate from such a simple contact, and it was slowly driving you crazy. His eyes held onto your gaze, hypnotizing you while the alcohol buzzed through your body.

“So, it is you, then?” You ask, the light essence of his cologne continues to fill your nose, sending sweet chills coolly down your spine.

“Darling,” he leans in closer, tugging your hair behind your ear, the air in between is nothing but the heat and breaths of yours and his. He lets his lips graze your ear as he finishes his sentence, “I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else.”

“Look, I know it’s you.” You start.

“Can I ask you something?” He interjects, and you nod for him to continue, “why are you so hung up on some guy that you saw a year ago? And what makes you think he would even remember you?”

“Because I never told you exactly how long ago it was that I saw you.” You reply, he just unknowingly confirmed his identity to you and is playing hard to get. His face doesn’t emit that he knows he fucked up, but you can see it in his eyes.

“So,” you start, placing your empty glass on the small table in front of the two of you, “Now that I know it is you, will you tell me your name?”

“Xiumin.”

“Nice try. I mean your real name.”

“Can I at least get you another drink?” He asks, clearly trying to stall.

You comply and let him order your third drink of the night while you begin to remind him of the events a year ago that made him so memorable to you. As your drinks arrive you both enjoy the light hums of the few individuals that still remained around you in this bar.

“Minseok.” He says, “My name is Kim Minseok and I do remember you from that night. I remember you because you were the first girl to walk into that club and give me butterflies.” You smile at the way it sounds so cheesy, thinking how on earth could you give him butterflies. “I’m serious! I almost left high and dry because I was so nervous.”

“I find that hard to believe, considering you did perform. Not to mention, you locked eyes with me as you grinded on some woman’s lap as some sort of lame middle school way to get me jealous.”

“I’ll admit, I wanted to get a rise out of you, just to see what you’d do.” He takes a sip. The way he drinks is even enchanting, and you can’t help but admire the shadows around his face under the dimly lit bar lights.

Minseok continues, “unfortunately, you did nothing and left. And I felt like a dick because I thought I would never see you again. And I wanted to. I wanted to see you again so bad.” He moves closer to you, eliminating any space between the two of you. You swear that his face is closing in, your breaths are one.

“Well, here I am.” You whisper, “it took me about a year but I’m here.”

“Fate.” Minseok whispers back. “But now that you’re here,” he says, leaning away and back, “you must know that I won’t go any further without taking my girl on a proper date.”

Minseok winks one of his crescent shaped eyes, adding another layer of fire to the flame burning in you for him.

He reaches into his pocket and checks his phone for the time before handing it to you, “Will you please put your number in for me, darling?”

You grab the phone and start to put in your number, and you realize something, “Don’t you think you should know my name?”

“You don’t like pet names, darling?” He asks, exaggerating the tone of the last word as to imply ‘darling’ is now your name.

You hit his arm, “I don’t do pet names,”

“Hmm, we’ll just see about that, darling.” His voice reaches a new level of deep.

Two days have passed since the monday night bar scene and no word from Minseok. Of course you didn’t expect a message from him right away, but that didn’t stop you from anxiously checking your phone and jumping at the sound of each ‘ding’ that went off from your phone.

The next morning you receive a text,

[9:13am] Minseok: Bar Bellas.

8:00pm. Come find me, DARLING.

-Minseok

You roll your eyes, but don’t stop the gigantic smile that’s growing on your face. Looks like you have. .  a date? Nonetheless, you zoom through your lesson plan, watching the minutes go by slowly, until you’re finally home. Your nerves are in overdrive, you’re hungry for Minseok’s aura. Something about him made you feel like no other. You spend the next few hours getting ready, wondering why he is asking you to go back to that club. While he’s working, isn’t that cheap?

8:00pm rolls around and you find yourself roaming the club, scanning the room for Minseok but of course, he’s nowhere to be found. The lights dim darker than they already were, the girls in the club begin cheering as a single spotlight shines on the main stage.

“Oh, god.” You let out as your eyes fall onto center stage where the lean, muscled body glistens under the white light. Minseok is wearing white jeans, hugging every curve, a white vest over his shirtless torso, all topped off with a bandana tied around his head. His jet black hair contrasts so hotly with his skin tone, and white attire. The familiar heat already traces down through your body and in between your thighs.

A bass-thumping song begins to play as Minseok starts his dance, and it is just how you remember, but this time he’s coming closer, walking towards you. -Wait, why is he coming this way? What does he think he’s doing?- Minseok starts making his way towards you, bedroom eyes piercing through your entire being, whipping you up into his lust. As he walks towards you, instinctively you slowly back away until the back of your legs hit a chair, sitting on it as one of the workers holds it down for you. Minseok has a smirk plastered on his face as he stands before you.

“What are you doing, Min?” You ask him as he leans down to you.

“Just stay still, darling. Trust me.” He whispers into your ear. He takes off his bandana and wraps it around your eyes, the sounds of ladies woo-ing and the music heightening as you feel a pair of legs straddle you, he’s giving you a lap dance. You feel his body grinding on your thighs, his groin making itself known against your body and the pool of lust is flooding in you. Your mind is going hazy, since you can’t see a thing, you desperately want to touch him.

The blindfold is ripped away from your eyes, and the ladies cheer louder, as you try to focus your gaze. The crowd is slightly tipsy and drunkenly jealous of you in this moment, while you try to soak up every second. Minseok is staring down at you, biting on his lip, he is loving every moment of this. It takes all he has to keep it professional, but he wants more, hungry for you as you sit underneath him dripping in equal lust.** He proceeds with his lap dance, body rolling slowly over you, enticing you. You squeeze your legs together, the heated tension becoming unbearable. He runs his hand through your hair, cupping the back of your head to hold you still while he slowly grinds into you, letting you feel every twitch of muscle in his legs while his hard on presses against you.

Minseok teasingly removes his white vest from his body until his bare torso stares at you in all its glory. He then leans down and whispers in your ear, “the red door at the back. Ten minutes.” He let his lips graze your ear with every word he said, his hot breath latching onto your skin. He removes his body from you completely, the cold air hits you like a truck as you collect your senses, watching him teasingly dance his way back to the stage.

He continues on with his dance, occasionally flirting with the closest lady there, sending them a series of winks and air kisses to make them swoon and drown in their own pool of lust for him. You’re too wound up and focused on his dance, when another dancer comes up from behind, “You better get to that red door, Miss. Wouldn’t want to make him wait,” he tells you as he stands you up and leads you towards the back. He leads you through the club and up to the red door, and before leaving he asks you for your name then sends you a wink before walking away.

You’re standing next to this door, scanning the club, waiting for the next move when the door opens behind you and a hand reaches out, pulling you inside. You stumble your way in as Minseok stands that holding you in place. His smile is from ear to ear, and you can’t help but return the smile.

He kisses your cheek, and begins a trail of light kisses down your neck, while his hands wrap around your waist pulling you tight against his body. You can feel just how desperate he is for you through his jeans. He continues to shower you in his lustful affection, before pausing to look at you with a confused expression.

“Is something wrong, Y/N?”

“Aren’t I not supposed to touch you? Isn’t that one of the rules?” You ask.

He chuckles, “Darling, I’m off the clock. This isn’t business anymore, it’s pleasure.”

The corner of Minseok’s lips perk into a crooked smirk before locking with yours as he slides his tongue in your mouth, wasting no more time. Your hands reach up to tug on his hair emitting a groan from him. He continues to kiss you until both your lips are bruised, hands sliding up under your skirt, squeezing your ass.

Minseok is deeply engulfed in you, wanting to devour you and you wanted him equally, if not, more. With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you don’t know when Minseok’s jeans came off or where your panties have gone. All you know now is that Minseok has you pushed up against a velvet covered wall with your hips wrapped around his waist as he steadily places his member at your entrance. Everything happens in a blur, he is pumping in and out of you, fucking you against the wall sending you into oblivion and beyond.

Minseok doesn’t just fuck to please himself, and that’s what drives you insane, he pays attention to detail, nipping and sucking at every delicate part of your body. He’d touch you and please you in many ways that you didn’t know were possible. He makes you feel every sensation, to which you can only moan out senseless words ranging from obscenities to his name in a repeated chant. You swear both your moans have heightened over the club’s music, and just when you feel the coil in the pit of your stomach about to burst, Minseok pushes himself into you as deep as he can, sending off a new level of pleasure for you. It makes your body squirm and twitch, but you don’t want it to stop. His lips are on your neck and you feel him walking away from the wall and over to the velveted couch in the middle of the room. He lays you down and continues to fuck you both to your highs.

The coil rips, a wave of pleasure and sensations flood your body and Minseok’s, making you both feel paralyzed in bliss.

After a while, you two lay on the velveted couch, catching your breaths as your fingers intertwine together, bodies glistening in each other’s sweat and lust.

You finally break the silence, “good call on having your co-worker ask for my name, by the way,” you say teasingly.

Minseok chuckles pulling you close against his body, “it’s been a delight to make your acquaintance, Y/N.”

‘Signorì, che c'avete?’
Le disse il proprietario del bar.
Era un uomo sulla sessantina, con i capelli bianchi e quella parlata un po’ romana che lei tanto amava.
‘Niente Vincenzo, niente.’
Disse lei, sorridendogli per bloccare le lacrime.
‘Signorì, so’ più de quarant’anni che faccio sto lavoro, e le posso assicurà che de belle ragazze piagne sto bar ne ha viste pure troppe, forse. Ma le posso pure assicurà che nessuna c’aveva l’occhi come i suoi. Su’ bella giovine, dì a un vecchio come me che c’hai, che nun te posso vedé così, me se strigne ‘r core.’
Le si accomodò difronte, posando il vassoio e asciugandosi le mani nella ‘parannanza’, come la chiamava lui.
‘Niente Vincè, niente di importante, niente di strano..’
Disse la ragazza con voce rotta.
‘Ah, signorina mia, e queste lacrimucce? Queste non so pe’ niente, le lacrime non so mai pe’ niente signorì. Me faccia indovinà.. Ha litigato col fidanzato?’
‘Litigato’ sorrise lei.
‘Magari avessimo solo litigato. Mi ha lasciata. Senza spiegazioni, senza un minimo di niente.’
‘Signorina bella, lei potrebbe esse mi nipote, quindi ascoltateme ‘n attimo, come se fossi su nonno.
Io so vecchio, ma ‘na volta so stato giovane e regazzino pure io. C’avrò avuto all’incirca l’età sua, signorì.
Io avevo diciannove anni e quella che all’epoca era la mia fidanzata ne aveva sedici. Voi signorì, quanti ce ne avete?’
‘Sedici..’
‘La stessa età della mia donna del tempo. Be’ dovete da sapè, che io e ‘sta ragazzina, al tempo c’amavamo tanto. Lei era bellissima, aveva i capelli di un colore come il vostro, e du’ occhi che brillavano e spruzzavano gioia. Eravamo innamorati pe’ davero, facevamo quelle che se chiamavano scappatelle, perché ‘na volta nun era come ora, ‘na volta o te sposavi subito o dovevi fa tutto de nascosto. Me ricordo ancora, le belle lettere che me scriveva, e io che sapevo appena legge signorì! Ma lei m’amava pure perché ero ignorante, perché ero figlio de un barista, mentre lei era figlia de un generale. Lei m’amava perché quel fiore che le strappavo dal giardino sotto casa, pe’ lei valeva più delle piante costosissime che su madre comprava. Eravamo felici davero signorì, e c’amavamo, ma de quell’amore vero. Ma diteme, te e ‘sto ragazzi che v’ha fatto piagne, v’amavate?’
‘Si Vincè, ci amavamo, io lo amavo con tutta me stessa, e credevo che anche lui mi amasse, fino ad oggi.. Lui mi regalava sempre le margherite, quelle belle e piccole che raccoglieva al parco, e me le infilava fra i capelli. Mi diceva poche volte di amarmi, ma me lo dimostrava ogni giorno.. E poi boh. Mi ha lasciata così, spiazzandomi.’
‘Come immaginavo..continuate a sentì ‘sta storia.
Come je dicevo, noi c’amavamo tanto, forse troppo.
Un giorno però so stato cattivo.
Un giorno venne un bella americana qui al bar. Bella, bionda, occhi azzurri. Capite, io ero giovane, e me infatuai de ‘sta biondona. Così cominciai a trascurare la donna che dicevo di amare per stare co’ sta bella americana. Non ce stanno scuse pe’ quello che feci, credeteme. Andai da quella donna che m’amava tanto e le dissi che io non l’amato che me volevo solo divertì. Inutile dije quanto avrà pianto quella pora donna signorì. Intanto io me divertii co’ st’americana, fino a quando questa non tornò in America e io rimasi come uno scemo. Me ricordo ancora signorì quanto me so sentito stupido. Avevo cacciato la donna della mia vita per divertirmi. Eh, l’omini so stupidi!’
Lei sorrise, ‘continua’ gli sussurrò.
‘Passarono circa cinque o sei settimane da quel giorno che maledicevo, e indovinate un po’? Un giorno m’arrivò una lettera, e sapete chi l’aveva scritta? La donna che avevo fatto piagne. Tanto male le avevo fatto, ma lei un’ultima lettera m’aveva scritto. Voleva famme sapè quanto male stava, ma voleva rinraziamme pe’ i bei momenti.
Io volevo corre da lei, ma la paura che non me volesse era troppa. Così aspettai.’
‘Ma perché mi racconti queste cose..?’
‘Perché signorì, io quella donna me la so sposata, e so più de quarant’anni che c’amamo. Questo è un consiglio de un vecchio: se te lo ami veramente, e se lui te ama, tornerete insieme. Ma, come è capitato a me, è stata lei a fa un passo verso de me, pure se l’avevo lasciata senza darle spiegazioni.
Quindi signorì, se lo amate, aspettate un po’, e se il sentimento diventa più forte dentro de voi, allora cercatelo e ripijatevelo.’
—  Em.

It was a pitcher

After midnight

When your eyes

Finally caught mine.

We played darts

With our glances

While piercing hope

Into our minds.

It was a couple

Songs and dances,

Before I found

My way over to you.

We small talked

Until we had

The largest heads

In the room.


I felt like the

little drummer boy

The way you played

My snare drum heart.

You were the Bella

Of the bar

Glass bottle and all.

I waited for The perfect

Rhythm to grab

Your hand and dance.

We swayed intoxication

Into the room,

I blacked out in a trance.


I woke up with

A feeling

Tormenting my gut.

Like I’d left behind

something

But I couldn’t figure out

Just what.

Then I felt someone

Beside me,

Turned over and saw

You smiling.

You were a hangover

cure.

That was well worth

Finding.

‘Signorì, che c'avete?’
Le disse il proprietario del bar.
Era un uomo sulla sessantina, con i capelli bianchi e quella parlata un po’ romana che lei tanto amava.
‘Niente Vincenzo, niente.’
Disse lei, sorridendogli per bloccare le lacrime.
‘Signorì, so’ più de quarant’anni che faccio sto lavoro, e le posso assicurà che de belle ragazze piagne sto bar ne ha viste pure troppe, forse. Ma le posso pure assicurà che nessuna c’aveva l’occhi come i suoi. Su’ bella giovine, dì a un vecchio come me che c’hai, che nun te posso vedé così, me se strigne ‘r core.’
Le si accomodò di fronte, posando il vassoio e asciugandosi le mani nella ‘parannanza’, come la chiamava lui.
‘Niente Vincè, niente di importante, niente di strano..’
Disse la ragazza con voce rotta.
‘Ah, signorina mia, e queste lacrimucce? Queste non so pe’ niente, le lacrime non so mai pe’ niente signorì. Me faccia indovinà.. Ha litigato col fidanzato?’
‘Litigato’ sorrise lei.
‘Magari avessimo solo litigato. Mi ha lasciata. Senza spiegazioni, senza un minimo di niente.’
‘Signorina bella, lei potrebbe esse mi nipote, quindi ascoltateme ‘n attimo, come se fossi su nonno.
Io so vecchio, ma ‘na volta so stato giovane e regazzino pure io. C’avrò avuto all’incirca l’età sua, signorì.
Io avevo diciannove anni e quella che all’epoca era la mia fidanzata ne aveva sedici. Voi signorì, quanti ce ne avete?’
‘Sedici..’
La stessa età della mia donna del tempo. Be’ dovete da sapè, che io e ‘sta ragazzina, al tempo c’amavamo tanto. Lei era bellissima, aveva i capelli di un colore come il vostro, e du’ occhi che brillavano e spruzzavano gioia. Eravamo innamorati pe’ davero, facevamo quelle che se chiamavano scappatelle, perché ‘na volta nun era come ora, ‘na volta o te sposavi subito o dovevi fa tutto de nascosto. Me ricordo ancora, le belle lettere che me scriveva, e io che sapevo appena legge signorì! Ma lei m’amava pure perché ero ignorante, perché ero figlio de un barista, mentre lei era figlia de un generale. Lei m’amava perché quel fiore che le strappavo dal giardino sotto casa, pe’ lei valeva più delle piante costosissime che su madre comprava. Eravamo felici davero signorì, e c’amavamo, ma de quell’amore vero. Ma diteme, te e ‘sto ragazzino che v’ha fatto piagne, v’amavate?’
‘Si Vincè, ci amavamo, io lo amavo con tutta me stessa, e credevo che anche lui mi amasse, fino ad oggi.. Lui mi regalava sempre le margherite, quelle belle e piccole che raccoglieva al parco, e me le infilava fra i capelli. Mi diceva poche volte di amarmi, ma me lo dimostrava ogni giorno.. E poi boh. Mi ha lasciata così, spiazzandomi.’
Come immaginavo..continuate a sentì ‘sta storia.
Come je dicevo, noi c’amavamo tanto, forse troppo.
Un giorno però so stato cattivo.
Un giorno venne un bella americana qui al bar. Bella, bionda, occhi azzurri. Capite, io ero giovane, e me infatuai de ‘sta biondona. Così cominciai a trascurare la donna che dicevo di amare per stare co’ sta bella americana. Non ce stanno scuse pe’ quello che feci, credeteme. Andai da quella donna che m’amava tanto e le dissi che io non l’amato che me volevo solo divertì. Inutile dije quanto avrà pianto quella pora donna signorì. Intanto io me divertii co’ st’americana, fino a quando questa non tornò in America e io rimasi come uno scemo. Me ricordo ancora signorì quanto me so sentito stupido. Avevo cacciato la donna della mia vita per divertirmi. Eh, l’omini so stupidi!’
Lei sorrise, ‘continua’ gli sussurrò.
‘Passarono circa cinque o sei settimane da quel giorno che maledicevo, e indovinate un po’? Un giorno m’arrivò una lettera, e sapete chi l’aveva scritta? La donna che avevo fatto piagne. Tanto male le avevo fatto, ma lei un’ultima lettera m’aveva scritto. Voleva famme sapè quanto male stava, ma voleva rinraziamme pe’ i bei momenti.
Io volevo corre da lei, ma la paura che non me volesse era troppa. Così aspettai.’
‘Ma perché mi racconti queste cose..?’
‘Perché signorì, io quella donna me la so sposata, e so più de quarant’anni che c’amamo. Questo è un consiglio de un vecchio: se te lo ami veramente, e se lui te ama, tornerete insieme. Ma, come è capitato a me, è stata lei a fa un passo verso de me, pure se l’avevo lasciata senza darle spiegazioni.
Quindi signorì, se lo amate, aspettate un po’, e se il sentimento diventa più forte dentro de voi, allora cercatelo e ripijatevelo.’
Hands to Myself

@spikkels8 prompts are so hard to resist - Beca just can’t seem to keep her hands off of her co-captain!

                 

Sidewalks were stupid.

They were fine, for walking by yourself.

Two people were ok, as long as there was no one coming from the opposite direction.

Three people?

Well, that left the awkwardness of figuring out who was going to play the odd man out.

A whole group of girls?

Half drunk and stumbling from the karaoke bar to Bellas’ house?

That was a whole different story.

Keep reading