Don't Drop Your Mask

I sat on my back porch, snuggled up in a blanket. The coldness of the night was creeping in, anyways though. I need a snuggie. Snuggies are for alcoholics. I would be able to drink and stay warm with a Snuggie.

I sighed and kept sipping my wine. Earlier that night, I had pondered by I was using a glass when I drink alone, and it’s usually only me who drinks from the bottle. So I ditched the glass and really became an alcoholic. I leaned my head back on the brick wall and sighed.

I felt the wind pick up. A lot.

“I don’t like this guy.” I guess it’s a good thing I decided to ditch my glass, because I would have spilled it everywhere when I jumped.

I glared at him. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He grabbed the wine bottle from me. “Do you mind?” I opened my mouth, but he drank anyways. “Rough night or something?”

“What do you mean, you don’t like him.”

“The… boy who walked you home! He sure did ask a lot of questions.”

“We were having a conversation. Chill out.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Wait. Are you jealous?” I laughed. “No way! That’s too much.”

“I am not jealous! I just have taken it upon myself, out of the kindness of my heart, to spend some of my nights looking after you. As you have noticed. You need saving a lot. Probably not the smartest idea to go gallivanting across town with a stranger.”

“You’re a stranger.”

“That’s besides the point. Are you drunk?” he asked.

“I had a few at work, but that was hours ago. I think.” He laughed at me and took a seat in my other chair. I patted his hand, looked at him, and said, “I guess I win.”

He grabbed my hand, kissed it, and said, “at what game?”

I ripped my hand back and shoved it under my blanket. “I got you to come up to my apartment! Well, while I’m awake.”

He smirked. “Well I haven’t come inside, yet.”

“Well then let’s go! I’m freezing. Do you want something to drink?” I asked, snatching my wine bottle back.

He slipped it out of my hand. “I’ll take yours. I think you’ve had enough of it anyways. It’s bloody freezing in here. Do you have heat?”

“It broke. Well, it works, just not very well. I can get you a blanket or a sweatshirt,” I said, sitting on the couch.

He sat next to me. “I don’t want you to have to get up.” I unwrapped the blanket from my body and threw half of it over him. Our toes touched and one of his feet curled up a little at the end, right on top of mine.

“You don’t have to.” As my recent sleep deprivation hit me, I laid my head on his shoulder. He put an arm around me. “So who will save the glorious city of Baltimore while the masked vigilante is taking care of a drunk girl?”

He ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m sure it will be fine for one night without me. I can’t be doing that much good, anyways.”

“You’ve helped me a lot. I may even owe my life to you. I mean how many times have you saved my ass?” I asked. I sat up and looked up at him. My voice dropped to just above a whisper. “It means a lot to me.”

His lips came crashing down on mine while we re-positioned ourselves on the couch. My hands reached up to run through his hair. His fingers traced the outline of my face and started trailing downwards. They landed on my hips. I tore his shirt off. Then he started playing with the hem of my shirt. I tried to take off his mask, and he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I should get going now. I’m so sorry,” he said. We both jumped off the couch and shot apart. He pulled his shirt on over his head.

“No, it’s my fault. I’m drunk, and stupid, and please don’t stop talking to me.”

“No, no, no. But I really should get going.” We were easily six feet apart, awkwardly looking around the dark room.

“Yeah, it’s late. You have work in the morning, right?”

“Yeah. Um, I’ll see you… well I’ll see you,” he said. It got a little less awkward as he started getting closer to me. I backed up towards the balcony. “Good night Layla,” he said, gently kissing my cheek before he left through the balcony.

“You could have used to front door, this time,” I said to myself.