It Begins Part:2

I got home tonight. “I’m sorry, what does? what mean?” I say as I shake my head trying to bring myself back down from my imaginary orgasm. He smirks at me slightly as he focuses his eyes on me and says questioningly. “A bad trip? What exactly does it mean to go on a bad trip?” he asks slightly amused. Immediately horrified by the fact that I was talking out loud and the dread crept through as I realized I had no idea as to how much of my little private conversation did, he hears out loud. I could kick myself right now the first extremely hot guy I meet in real life and I fucking catch verbal diarrhea how much worse could this fucking night get. “I’m so sorry tonight has been stressful for me and when I get stressed, I tend to talk to myself out loud. I didn’t mean to offend you it’s just that your reaction caught me a little off guard. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive. Is there something wrong with your lights from your costume?” 

“My costume?” he says in that same confused tone of voice. 

“Yeah, the glowing tattoo on your neck? You looked a little freaked out when I told you it was glowing. Which I’m assuming you weren’t expecting it to do?” He looks at me as if he’s trying to recall the reaction. Then simply responds with a nonchalant nod of his head. 

Realizing the conversation has taken a turn for absolute gracelessness I look at my dream guy then glance behind me to see my pitiful current nightmare and decide to say goodbye before I further disgrace myself. “So, yeah thanks again, I’m sorry about your costume. If you get it dry cleaned, I can give you my number, you can just send me the cleaning bill and I’ll send you back the money for the cleaning cost.” 

“So, you’ll be compensating me for what by the smell and look of things is the evidence of that man in the ironic feces costume voided bowels. Is this man your husband?” He asked me in what I assume to be his frustrated tone of voice. 

“Oh no, he’s my boyfriend and seems to have had a little too much to drink tonight,” I say desperately trying to downplay the situation in case he was well off. Which judging by the details of his costume he didn’t buy cheap material and props and put it together with himself as I did. So, I didn’t want to piss him off. 

“A boyfriend… hmm, seems fitting to call him a boy if he needs to burden a woman due to his lack of self-control.” He says glaring at my boyfriend disapprovingly. Now I’d be the first to admit that Captain crappy isn’t exactly my favorite person tonight, hell he’s barely even my favorite any other giving night. With his drinking problems, selfishness and let’s not even get started on his whole victim playing a role. But how dare this guy judge him off a passing. He doesn’t even know him well enough to hold so much disdain. For all, he knew we could have been attacked or who knows what else. 

“What the hell does that mean?” I exclaim extremely annoyed by the day's current events and being shamed by a stranger, no matter how sexy he may be; this little self-entitled rant is most definitely not what I need right now. He looks at me suspiciously then shakes his head and looks to the sky as if he’s searching it for the proper response to his misstep. He sighed deeply and looked at me with an equal amount of frustration that I no doubt reflected. 

“A man shouldn’t dare to call himself as such if he is so selfish and inconsiderate to burden his woman with the task of carrying him home, alone, late at night, while he has defecated his himself as well passing out. I was merely speaking on the accuracy of his title as your boyfriend. Due to his selfish actions being like a small boy which have led up to this point of inconvenience for yourself.” He looked at me pointedly no doubt referring to my disturbing appearance. I scowled at him defensively. Even if he was right, he still didn’t have the right to pass judgment on a person on hard times especially someone he didn’t even know personally. 

“Okay… I have to go thanks again.” I say turning my back on him frustratedly trying to salvage what little dignity I had left. all I could think about was how the hell I was going to pick up turd's face and break up with him tonight that wouldn’t result in a thousand drunken text messages or slurred voicemails full of threats, desperate pleas to take him back, or some fucked up combination of both. I just wanted to get home climb into a hot shower and an even hotter bath. Thank god I stuck to my guns about staying in my place I could only imagine the horror of being trapped in a relationship with no way out again. At the very least that was the best part of tonight, knowing that not only would I wake up in my bed alone but starting a new chapter free from drama. 

Just as I crouch down to pick up my burden for the last time a massive shadow slowly eclipses me. Before I could argue he was jerked up into the air and slung over the massive man's shoulders. Talk about shit slinging, it was slightly hilarious watching him toss the poor man over his massive shoulders like a giant sack of potatoes and walking off with him in the direction I intended to take back to my car. I only hoped the living porter potty wouldn’t wake up at that moment because I’m positive he would feel completely emasculated. 

“Um…you don’t have to do that. I can carry him myself my car is only another block from here.” I pleaded in his defense. 

“It is fine Queen; I will not watch you further torcher yourself to tend to this sad excuse for male kind.” He responds looking at the sad sack of shit on his shoulders with extreme discussion. 

“Look, I know how things look but honestly, he did just have too much to drink that’s all “ 

I exclaim. 

“I understand that he is someone you feel the need to protect, but I ask that you don’t continue to lie to me about his current condition as if it isn’t a regular occurrence. I can recognize a man with a bottle addiction at any stage. I’m only here at this exact moment because I could hear you two arguing two blocks away. The little I did hear made it clear that this is not the first time, nor will it be the last time he will end up like this.” 

His voice was so stern that I knew the next words if not chosen wisely could cause a huge fall out between us. And seeing as he was eliminating the literal and metaphorical load on my shoulders, covered in shit nonetheless I didn’t want to start that fire. 

We walked in silence for a little while. “Hey, thanks again for all of this, I’m Selena everybody calls me Lena for short. What’s yours?” 

“Radames, Ra, for short.” 

“You mean like the prince from Puccini’s opera I mean not exactly like that but. Ok taking the foot out of my mouth let me start over. Radames huh? That’s a unique name doesn’t it mean Prince in Egyptian translation?” 

He stopped and turned to look at me questioningly. Good lord, I haven’t seen a man fine enough that could raise one eyebrow and make it look good with that dominant muscular form since Rock in the ’90s. If he kept looking at me like that, I was bound to make an even bigger fool of myself. 

“Yes, it does you Speak the language?” 

“Oh...No I saw your tattoos and I figured you were familiar with Egyptian culture. I was a bit obsessed with Egyptian Mythology when I was a kid. But Prince huh, that’s one convenient name since you're practically saving me-.” 

“Is this man not your mate?” he asked abruptly letting me know that he was not entertained by my questions. 

Welp this just got an awkward way to make the hot guy helping you out uncomfortable Lena. 

“Wow, I wasn’t hitting on you I was just trying to make small talk since you were helping me. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” I stutter both embarrassed and slightly hurt by his comment. 

He looked at me observantly once more before turning around and continuing to walk off. Okay, not asking any more questions about the I*******m Hottie. I had just made up my mind to just shut up and keep my eyes forward when he stopped short and I bumped into him. I immediately jumped back and apologized. But before I could get it out, I saw his neck tattoo glow again.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me but is that normal?” I say pointing at the luminous tatt 

Seeming just as shocked as the first time it glowed. He reaches for it again and once more the light seems to mirror the glowing tattoo in the palm of his hand. He turns abruptly and looks at me intensely as if asking my help. Terrified by his reaction I immediately reach for the tattoo without considering the potential danger of doing so. The light seemed to grow brighter when I reached for it. He grasped my hand stopping me just short of touching it. Then looked at me with such a penetrating glare it was as if he were looking right through me this time to the pit of my soul. I attempted to pull my hand away, but he held my hand securely within his own not forceful enough to hurt me but strong enough to keep me stuck in place. It wasn’t until I looked down at my hand that I saw the glow from his tattoo on my fingertips. 

The light was far brighter than the tattoo on his neck and it began to grow warm on my hand glowing brighter as the heat grew stronger. It looked like a small heated star, but it wasn’t painful. I watched the golden amber of light grow and begin to grow and trace our hands and travel up the cups of our combined hands then trail outward traveling back down my wrist like liquid fire as the light continued traveling down toward my elbow I began to panic and yanked my hand away with all my force. Stumbling backward I land forcefully on my ass. 

“Ok, what the fuck was that? look if this is some fucked up prank for Halloween. This shits not funny.” 

He just stood there staring blankly at his hand shocked and confused. As if suddenly realizing I was still there he immediately dropped to his knees in front of me also dropping my worthless definite ex to the ground. He began looking me over as if I was this priceless delicate vase that fell yet miraculously survived. 

“Are you alright?” he asked in a feverish tone. 

“You mean besides your little light show scaring my ass off no not at all,” I respond sarcastically 

“Your ass?” he says looking a little too panicked at me sitting on the ground as he cocks his head to the side to look at my butt planted on the ground. 

“You did not just look at my ass!?” 

“Nothing else? you’re sure?” he asked ignoring my statement as he redirected his attention to my face. 

“Yeah, I guess why are you being all nice to me? When you were just all, is he, not your mate? Just for asking you about your name.” 

“It looks like you're, doing just fine. Is your hand okay?” he asks seeming concerned.

I glance down at my hand and to my surprise, there’s no more glowing light but on my wrist, there’s a duplicate of the tattoo on his neck there. It even had the same golden ink it was as if it glimmered from the reflection of the street lights across the ink. Although it was very beautiful, I was more concerned with how it got here. I licked the thumb of my left hand and tried feverishly to rub the ink off. I hadn’t seen him place a water tattoo on me. Plus, I hadn’t known any henna ink that could be transferred and dry seamlessly within seconds without leaving a trace. I was just about to level up my freak out when he grabbed my hand and pulled it towards himself in a desperate attempt to see what I was trying and failing miserably at removing. He took one look at the mirrored tattooed image, and his gaze immediately shot back up to my face. It was as if he finally saw me for the first time, and not just tolerating me as he had up until this point. 

“What is this some kind of light trick to go with the alien warrior-themed costume?” 

“Shit! No! no! no! no! This can’t be possible. Not now.” he said as if he was speaking to himself. 

“Ok, so I’m going to assume this isn’t exactly something you intended.” 

“No… not exactly.” He searched my eyes as if inspecting me to break out in tears.