The First Drag
The handsome yet peculiar man in front of me didn't seem suspicious, but then again, neither did Jacob, Benjamin, Mason, and I ended up in the gutters of New Orleans. Fabian continued to smile at me, sending a shiver down my spine, both seductive and cautionary, urging me to keep a safe distance.
"Just say it outright, don't play games with me," I said, attempting to appear irritated and composed, even though my hands trembled uncontrollably beneath the table.
"Relax, Butterfly," Fabian said, raising his hands. "I couldn't just stand by and watch some filthy old man abuse a girl who was already so hurt." Fabian's gaze turned somber, and then my head started throbbing.
Flashbacks from the party began to flood my mind. The drinks, my hands were bound with handcuffs and raised above my head. Suddenly, my hands went numb, my chest hurt so much I thought I was having a heart attack and might die right there. My body seemed to get hotter and hotter, and my breath became difficult. Then, a white smoke enveloped me, with a citrusy and earthy freshness, but the scent shifted into something deeper and warmer. I felt surrounded by an herb garden on a hot afternoon, and this sensation calmed me.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Fabian holding a bundle of dried herbs near my face, from which wafted a gentle, aromatic smoke that helped me regain control. I felt embarrassed for having an anxiety attack in front of this stranger. It was the first time I had ever lost control like that in front of someone.
"No need to make that face," he said, smiling and placing the bundle in a dark stone vase. "It's natural for you to feel this way, considering everything you've been through. I won't harm you; I didn't save you just to put you in danger. It wouldn't make sense."
"Are you telling me I can trust you?" I asked, and Fabian gave me a mysterious smile.
"I would never do something against someone's will. Even I have principles and values," Fabian said, placing his hand over his chest as if making an oath.
"Very well then," I said and resumed eating.
The rest of the meal was peaceful, devoid of discomfort. Perhaps it was the lingering scent of the herbs or Fabian's presence, that exuded enough reassurance and tranquility, but my anxiety and fear had dissipated. I observed Fabian; his hands were large, his forearms revealed by rolled-up sleeves were robust, and his lightly tanned skin held an allure. Fabian was a striking man, and I doubted he was oblivious to his appeal. Meanwhile, I perceived myself as nothing more than a drab individual, with lackluster hair, ordinary dark eyes, parched skin, and an unappealing physique.
Fabian ate with great elegance, almost like the royalty depicted in fiction books. I got lost watching him for so long that I had barely touched my food when Fabian coughed, grabbed my attention, and smiled suggestively. I shook my thoughts away and focused on my meal.
"Now that our meal's done," Fabian remarked as he cleared away the soiled dishes, carrying them to the kitchen, "is there someone you'd want to reach out to, just to let them know you're here? Your family's probably concerned about you."
"What family?" I said aloud, more to myself than in response to Fabian.
"Everyone has a family, and that includes you, my Butterfly," Fabian insisted, his tone carrying a hint of concern, which made me slightly embarrassed.
"The only time we spoke, they all made it very clear that they wouldn't raise anyone's unwanted child and that I, at the ripe age of fifteen, was already adult enough to take care of myself," I stated, my voice lacking any emotion. It wasn't a subject I enjoyed discussing, but it wasn't a secret either.
Those people were strangers to me; there were no emotional bonds, no love, and I didn't know them. For some reason, Fabian appeared to be getting annoyed; his expression darkened, and he furrowed his eyebrows. I touched his face with my fingertips, not even realizing I was doing it until he looked at me in surprise, and I withdrew my hand. Fabian sighed and led me to the bedroom, making me sit on the bed.
"It seems like your human doesn't change," he said, then went to the cabinet to fetch medications and bandages.
He started with my wrists, touching them gently and carefully, clearly avoiding unnecessary contact between us. With his fingers on the palms of my hands, he rotated my arm while tending to the wound. It was strange to be touched so gently and intimately. Fabian's fingers glided over my skin.
"Do you play any instruments?" Fabian's question caught me off guard.
"Why the question?" I asked, and he just smiled and held my index finger.
"You have slim and long fingers, perfect for playing string or wind instruments." Fabian continued to tend to my wounds as if he hadn't made such a strange comment.
"I've never played any instrument; I'm not good at it," I replied unenthusiastically.
"You should try someday; I bet music would be amazing for you, and you'd enjoy the experience." Fabian moved down to my legs as he continued to talk. "Are you also going to tell me you've never been into sports?" I pulled my legs up and covered them with the sheet.
"Where are you going with all this nonsense?" I asked, and Fabian just tilted his head to the side, like a puppy.
"Nonsense?" His serious tone disconcerted me for a moment.
"Yes, I know you're trying to make me feel better, but blatantly lying like this doesn't help me at all," I said, annoyed.
"And when did I ever tell a lie?" Fabian insisted, and I got thoroughly irritated at that moment.
"That's enough!" I shouted, hitting the bed with clenched fists. "I know what my body is like, and right now, more than ever in my life, I know how horrible I look."
"I know we haven't gotten to know each other very well yet," Fabian said, pulling back the covers and holding my foot. "But keep in mind that I never lie. Everything I say is what I see." He finished treating my ankles and kissed them, which surprised me. "I will show you one day, my Butterfly."
Fabian treated the rest of my wounds and lingered for quite a while on my face, applying ointment with special attention to my chapped lips. When he finished, I felt so relaxed and peaceful that I fell asleep immediately after lying down. I woke up sometime later; everything was dark in the room except for the open window, through which the vibrant New Orleans streetlight poured in. Fabian was gazing at the view, smiling and holding a cigarette. His shirtless figure mesmerized me, leaning against the wrought-iron railing, his back arched, so relaxed in his moment.
I must have been staring for a long time because Fabian noticed I was awake and invited me to join him with a nod. I got out of bed and walked over to him. Fabian extended his hand, encouraging me to come closer more quickly. I took his hand, and a shiver ran through my body, warming me from fingertips to toes. I positioned myself next to him and marveled at the colorful nightlife lights below us.
Without saying a word, Fabian took a drag from his cigarette and offered it to me. I had never smoked before, never even tried. I was afraid, but at that moment, I couldn't remember the reason for my fear. I accepted the cigarette and took a drag, but soon after, I started coughing uncontrollably. Fabian took the cigarette and patted my back while laughing. Even the sound of his laughter was beautiful.
"Don't worry, if you want, I can teach you how to do that and much more," Fabian said, then leaned closer to my ear. "Just ask, and I'll grant your wishes."
"Can you turn me into a different person?" I said with a sad voice, knowing that certain things never change, no matter how much you wish they would.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself as a different person, as the Butterfly Fabian believed I was, and how my life could have been so different. Then, warmth touched my face, and Fabian's lips moved away from my cheek. When I turned to ask him the reason for that, his face was very close, his eyes shining strangely, as if he were enchanting me.
"If that's your wish, then I will do it." He pulled away, stroking my head, and left the room.
I looked back at the street, trying to make sense of Fabian's words and the strange desires growing inside me. I wished to be a different person, and tried to imagine what it would be like if I weren't the "rat," but even if I changed, my past wouldn't change, and my life up to that point wouldn't change. But, I could change my future; I could fly freely over the city's night lights.