It was a little ironic that the man who was inadvertently responsible for her late night rendezvous was the one she ended up next to. The man that had stirred her raw emotions, emotions that at the moment was subdued by alcohol and laughter, but emotions nonetheless that were bubbling at the surface instead of slumbering in the darkest corners of her heart. She looked at him; some sort of kindness lingering on the edges of her face, a kind of mildness that was usually only reserved for her little brother. She smiled. She couldn’t help herself. For once in her life she was not restricted to that one facial expression that she had gotten so used to wearing. For once in her miserable life she let the girl underneath all the misery shine through, and even if it were there for only a moment, only for a night, it was worth cherishing and worth exploring. If only for a night.

At the man’s indication of her need to strike up a conversation with him made her snort with derision, but the playful, yes playful, smile still lingered on her rosy lips. “You give yourself too much credit, “ she said with humour, although she made no attempt to leave or loose interest in the man. In fact, she was a little curious of him, not necessarily because of his “charming” personality, but more because of how his mere presence stirred something in her, be it annoyance or whatever, but it was a feeling of sorts. Now that she had a closer look at him, and their meeting wasn’t stained by the bitter tinge of wanting to be left alone and cold bickering, she found him rather attractive. He had a strong face and stern eyes, a sort of line about his features that made you feel safe. Although his eyes seemed a bit, harsh, she recognized something in them that she had only ever seen in her own eyes when looking into her reflection, a sort of kindness lingered there. After all, it takes one to know one. Her eyes mirrored his. She looked at him, boldly almost, unafraid to look away. Basilisk was it? Well, she was not afraid to look into the eyes of a basilisk. She had faced dangers far worse than an oddly stern man with a cool demeanour and his pet wolf. After all, was she not the daughter of a murderer and an abuser?

Elisabeth looked at the bartender, the twist of her head made one of her long tresses fall over her shoulder in front of her chest. She smiled at the bartender, and he smiled, nervously back. It was funny how much power laid in a smile, and Ellie couldn’t help but to relish in the power it gave her to know what she could do with a man. “Gin and tonic,” she said with a slight nod. She wasn’t trying to be classy or to seem more grow-up than what she was, most girls her age wouldn’t probably wanted some fancy drink with a pink umbrella or something, but fact of the matter was that she simply preferred the bitterness of the tonic to the sweetness of cranberry juice. She turned to Sylph again, “Thanks.” Although she was hardly one to take anything from strangers, she had manners and a simple sign of gratitude was not unknown to her. She took the highball glass in her hand and lifted it delicately, gesturing for a toast with the man who had just bought it for her. She raised her right eyebrow slightly, offering mischievous smile. “To life,” she said, irony dripping with every word, before bringing the beverage to her lips and taking a slow sip of the drink. It cooled her and burned her at the same time. She sat the glass down, once again feeling how wonderful it felt to just not care. It was easy to not care. She didn’t understand why she didn’t do it more often.

Elisabeth was hardly the most sentimental of persons. In fact, she made it a rule not to be a sobby, sappy, drippy eyed sentimental with a scotch in her hand and a heart breaking song on the radio. She had learnt to make her heart hard, endurable, and unreceptive of anything that might bring forth emotions. The only person she could claim had a power over her was her little brother. He was her weakness, her strength, her undoing. She would do anything for him, and yet she found that he was slipping away from her. No, it wasn’t as if they weren’t close anymore, but the lad was growing up, getting older, more independent. He didn’t rely on her that much anymore. He was making up his own mind, living the life that Elisabeth had always wanted him to have, and yet, she now found herself a little nostalgic. The sentimental old fool that she had tried to avoid was banging at her doorstep, and she had let her in. Elisabeth suddenly found herself estranged from the world. True, she had done everything in her power to alienate herself from the world, but with her little brother there with her she had managed. Now, she was alone. And she was alone. Perhaps that was also partly why she had ventured out on this cold, cold night. Perhaps that was why she was seeking company. After all, despite her coldness, she had sought the warmth of a man many times before. Femme fatale. That was what she was. Ensnaring those she wanted, getting what she wanted without ever feeling satisfied, never able to fill the emptiness inside.

Life was cruel. And here she sat, raising her glass for it. Oh, the irony.

Ellie eyed the bartender as he busily handed her the glass. Oh, the femme fatale struck again, and she bet she could make him dance any tune she wanted. She took another sip of her drink and glanced casually at Sylph, although it was done with precision. In the background an old song played. It was the kind of song that sentimental hearts would stir at, that even the most cold-hearted and detached persons would feel something about. Take me out tonight where there’s music and there’s people who are young and alive. Driving in your car, I never want to go home because I haven’t got one anymore. It played just as she raised her glass to toast for life. She tilted her head to the side with a scrutinizing look in her eyes as Sylph responded to her statement. “So they say,” Ellie replied in agreement but with a hint of bitterness in the edges of her voice. “Although, I’ve found that life is rarely ever as we want it to be,” she said, with a sort of wisdom to her words that rung of such truth that they could hardly be argued against. There was a knowing in her voice, as if she had lived forever and spoke this to be the absolute truth. To Ellie though, this was truth. After all, had she been able to choose she wouldn’t have chosen a murderer as a mother and an abuser as a father.

A sort of sadness gleamed in her eyes, if only for a second, before her eyes turned hard again. Pain. It was something Ellie was used to experiencing, but not used to deal with. She left it submerged within her, under layers of protection that she had personally put up. Her grip on her glass tightened slightly and she raised it to take a bigger gulp of it. It burned again, burning away the pain through her. It was strange how much a lonely heart could fight for comfort, and how burning the loneliness away was the only way to be free. “So, what are you doing here anyways,” Ellie asked, curious, trying to divert her own pain and engulf herself in something else. “I know you’re not a professor, but they don’t let just about anyone loose on the grounds, so, who exactly are you?” she asked, but with a slight demanding curiosity staining her voice. There was something about the way she spoke; the way she held herself that suggested that there was authority in her voice. And although Sylph might have the same authority, perhaps even stronger authority in his voice, Elisabeth was immune to his charm, and unlike the people who worked with him she was able to look him straight in the eyes without even flinching.

Elisabeth couldn’t help but to feel a little drawn to this man. Perhaps she was not drawn to him as the man imagined she was, but regardless there was an attraction. In fact, there was a mutual attraction, not that Ellie was aware of the mutuality of it. Although Ellie did not spend too much time pondering her own sexuality and availability, she was quite comfortable with herself and knew that her appearance held some sort of power over most men. However, the more she sat there, the more she began to understand that Sylph perhaps wasn’t like most men. Regardless, there was something about him that peeked her interest, despite her better judgement. If it weren’t for the alcohol sizzling in her blood, she might not have given him a second thought. In fact, without the alcohol, she wouldn’t even have walked over to him, let alone a stranger. No, if she let her rational mind take over she would be left with her usual stoic self, and in the past where had that gotten her so far? Nowhere. Ellie was stuck in her own ground zero, fighting her own escape, wandering aimlessly without any company. Was it so bad that she for once laid down all her defences and pledged the loneliness card? Was it so bad that she too craved human affection?

At the man’s attempt at a jest, Ellie raised her eyebrow slightly, quizzically. Perhaps it was the alcohol that was slowing her down from her normal cerebral chain of thoughts, but she was not entirely sure how he had managed to turn her simple inquiry of his persona to a guess-and-not-tell game. She found herself a little confused. She had never acted as if she was not a student. Although looking at her it would be hard to think that she was still in school, but the eighteen-year-old beauty was in fact still chained to the seventh year, and although she was ready to take the exam and be on her way, the school simply did not allow early graduates.

Ellie took another sip of her drink and licked her lower lip, biting it a little to savour the taste before looking up at the man. “I see. You want to play a game,” she deducted, a sort of seduction in her manner of voice. All right, if it was a game he wanted to play then it was a game he would get. She looked him intensely in the eye, for a moment trying to figure him out. He was so different from when she first met him. Although he still had the attitude, there was softness in his eyes that she had not noticed before. “How do you want to do this then?” she inquired further, playing along with his banter. After all, she had nothing better to do, and she was already there, playing the leading role of her own life, a role she had long neglected to pay any attention to.

The intoxication of her mind was impairing her sense of judgement. She was let cautions of her actions, or less self-aware in a way, or perhaps she was just less guarded. Because despite all the things she was less of, there were things about her that there was more of. More passion, more life, more aggressiveness, more fierceness and playfulness. She was a seductress, bold and daring, a sort of intimidating beauty that dared to hold the gaze of anyone who looked at her, regardless of the person gazing at her. She had attitude, the kind of attitude that at first didn’t need words to be noticed, and then, when she did speak, it was almost a kind of provocative attitude. The manner of which she spoke hinted to her daring personality, her words showed her willingness to tease and to push other people’s buttons. She didn’t care if she upset people; she usually never cared, regardless of whether she was drunk or sober.

Elisabeth found herself mesmerized by this man. This man who actually made her feel something, something other than utter loathing. Oh, but there was so much more about this man. He made her feel so many contradicting feelings. He annoyed her, greatly, with his cocky attitude (although she was just the same, not that she ever acknowledged this fact) and his smirks, and he infuriated her with his manner of speaking, and yet there was something about him that enthused her interest, that attracted her, prodded her curiosity and desires. The way he whispered in her ear made the hairs stand on end on her neck with both delight and fright. What was this?

Raising an eyebrow daringly with a slight smirk in the corners of her full lips she agreed to his suggestion to follow him outside. As she followed him she noticed how much taller he was than her. It was an attractive feat, and she found herself liking the difference between them. It was about the only thing that managed to pass through her mind before the man came at her. It happened in such a blur, too fast for her hazy mind to react to. His fingers slithered around her neck like a viper and she found herself staring into his dark eyes. However, instead of the perhaps expected reaction of shock and disbelief, followed by a plea for help, a strong and angered look came to her eyes. As he inspected her green orbs her brows furrowed and a blazing fire lit up in her eyes. She was looking back at him, intensely, daringly into his eyes, without blinking. It was as if she was defiantly daring him. His fingers came to her nape and his lips brushed against hers. She could feel her pulse rising. Her pupils dilated. Still, she was pinned down, unable to break free and hit him as she felt the urge to do. He bit her and she could feel something in her rise.

As his hold her loosened her hand came like a whip across the man’s cheek. It was simply a reflex of self-protection. “You fucker,” she hissed, her brows still furrowed, before she threw herself at him, kissing him hungrily on the mouth. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling herself hard towards him.

As the kiss ended Elisabeth returned the bite he had given her prior to the exchange of kisses. She bit him hard on the lower lip, a slight smirk lingered in the corners of her lips, as if she knew something he didn’t. When they pulled apart a slight smug expression mixed with the slight annoyed furrow of her brows lingered on her face. She scrutinized him, for a moment trying to figure out his game her. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met before, and it both exasperated her and excited her. The girl didn’t move very far from his form, so that he had to crane his head a little in order to get a proper look at her face. She raised one of her eyebrows daringly, as if she was daring him to try anything fucked up again. She was taken by surprised at how much she had enjoyed his sudden intrusion of her space, the way he had assaulted her. She was normally always in charge, always able to anticipate what was to happen. However, she was pretty sure that when it came to this man she wouldn’t be able to anticipate as much. He was a conundrum like no other.

“Perhaps,” Ellie responded secretively to his inclination that they ditch the matter, with a smug expression curling on her lips. She never once did remove her gaze from his. She might be the only living thing that could hold that gaze, just as he was the only one that could hold hers. They were both strong, driven characters that were used to getting their way. People just didn’t defy them, and here they had found each other, equally tenacious to conform to the whim of the other. She smiled at him, she sort of smile that wasn’t loaded with unstated sexuality, but the kind that simply seemed flirtatious and somewhat sweet. “I see, I’ve come across one of the natives of this bar,” she said playfully, inattentively straightening her hair slightly from the previous assault. She flipped it past her shoulder, but kept her eyes on the man who hovered in front of her. “Myself, I’m just a mayfly, having found a way to this fine establishment,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes. She grinned turning her head a little. “Other than that, I don’t really have a good reason to be here,” she stated, candidly, but with a slight cocky tone to her voice.

In the corner of her eye she could see her so-called friends getting restless. She wasn’t sure if they had seen the incident that had happened between her and Sylph, but judging by their confused expression they had yet to discover their close proximity to each other. For some reason this delighted Ellie. It was as if this little moment between them, however strange, was still private. It was a secret, between the two of them.