Maneater

She had memorized the routine like she had gone through it her entire life. Like it had become a permanent part of her. Something that roamed inside her skin like a virus, infecting her organs, from her liver to her chocolate-colored eyes. She didn’t need a sign or a warning to automatically know what would happen. All she needed was a single glance at the boy she was on the hunt for, and she knew.

It all began with finding the perfect prey for her to pursue. She had always been picky, always aware of exactly what she wanted and how hard it was to actually get it. But she never lost sight of what was just the right fit. She wanted a sexy piece, one that she knew would drive her up a wall and let her claw her fingernails into their back while they licked her earlobe. One that had a cocky attitude she could break.

It wasn’t a mystery to her the art of hunting for a particular kind of feast. It was part of her femininity, part of her charm that she so easily used despite the fact she wasn’t a perfect beauty.There wasn’t anything particularly different that made her stand out from a crowd of girls. She wasn’t very skinny, curves making her body sexy and plump. Her skin wasn’t flawless, little bumps appearing on both her face and back, but nothing too severe that couldn’t be hidden. Her fingernails were short, her hair was messy, and her feet had a profound similarity to that of her father’s. She wasn’t anything special.

But God gifted her with a particular quality not every girl had. That single feature that made her special among hundreds of thousands of women her age. Her self-awareness. The easiest way for a prey to be lured closer into her grasp was by hypnotizing them with her movements.

It started out with eye contact. Her long eyelashes batted upwards, their eyes meeting just once and she knew they had been trapped in the abyss of her pupils. From there it was like a simple, little dance. From the way her fingers gracefully moved over her knee and swirled around her skin to the way she licked her lips and reached up to tap the tip of her nose. She didn’t have to look to know they were watching. She never did in fact until they dared approach her, hands stuffed in pockets, mouths parting open all too soon before they actually knew what to say. It always brought a sly smile to her face to know she had won.

From there it moved fast. Arms wrapped around body parts, hands squeezed, lips kissed, teeth bit, breaths deepened. Through fast paced movements she had learned when to stop and when to go. Her body naturally responded, her hands and legs following through, her face always holding a devilish grin, one that only she could manage to pull off. Not once did she allow herself onto break into their arms. She always had to be the one in control.

By the time they were done a clock started ticking in her head. She knew what came next. It wasn’t immediate, of course. The prey departed with her number within their cellphone contacts. She kept the good sensations they had produced between bedsheets right beside her tummy. Her thirst had been quenched, but it always came back. So she texted back cute responses. She replied hilarious answers. She made sure to make them want her badly enough that if they had to, they would crawl on their knees all the way to her front door with piles of gifts on their backs.

There was always a downside to the hunt though, a certain point where she got incredibly bored. Once the conversations started to grow old and there was little left to say, it was like stepping into a pool of pure deja vu. She always got exactly what she expected from them each time her phone vibrated in her purse.

‘I miss you’.

‘I wish you were here right now’.

‘I wish I could come over’.

She always got back the same questions as well.

‘Do you miss me?’.

‘What’re you doing?’.

‘What’s up?’.

This was the point, much to her own dismay, she turned into a hypocrite. She didn’t miss them. She missed their lips. Their body. Their hands. The way their skin felt against hers. Their actual personality? She scoffed.

She led a boring life so no matter how many times he asked her those same questions of what she was doing and what was she up to, she always responded with a different, more interesting approach.

‘Nothing much, just fought an alien invasion.’

‘Ah, today was a slow day, a couple giant koalas attacked the city but the situation was under control.’

At one point she wondered if it bothered them.

She quickly remembered just how little she cared.

When days turned into two weeks she knew it was coming to an end. Her phone would lie silent. Her inbox would be empty. And when they did speak, it was the same questions she had predicted would come. She wasn’t one to beg for a conversation so instead, she was the one to wait for one to start. Until eventually, nothing came. And that was when she took a deep breath in and closed that small chapter in her story. The hunt was over. She had feasted and now the meal was gone.

At least until another prey came crawling around and caught a glimpse into her eyes.

Then it was back to square one.