Jasmine. He remembered her name, exotic, just like her features. Even in the dim light of the bar, her beauty radiated towards him, his eyes stretching to open wider, to take more of her in. Her laugh echoed throughout the room, hearty and rich, much more vocal than the typical female’s polite chuckle. When she was amused, she didn’t hold back. He remembered loving that about her. He knew she’d see him soon, crouched in the corner, and she’d have some sarcastic remark as to why he had yet to acknowledge her. His mind continued to wander, as to why he’d left her, and as to why they both happened to be in the same bar at that late hour. The wave of cigarette smoke slapped his face full force, and awakened him from his thoughts. “Ashe…” she said, standing directly in front of him, a cigarette dangling from between her lips. “Nice of you to come say hello.” He stammered for a moment, unsure of a response, and still half startled from her surprise presence. How had he missed her walking over towards him? “I didn’t see you. It’s dark in here, you know.” He tried to play it off with confidence, but, his heart began beating violently beneath his chest. She’d always invoked this reaction in him, in all men. She took a hit, another long wave of smoke sweeping through the dark bar, encircling her face. “May I sit down?” It was more of a demand then a request, and he didn’t feel the strength to resist her just yet. “Be my guest.” He said, trying to play it off, as if he really didn’t care one way or the other. He figured he’d come off as a nervous idiot, but she already knew that about him. They’d spend many years together, she knew the control she had over him. He took a sip of his drink, wincing a bit at the bitter taste, and began to fumble for a cigarette himself. She produced a lighter, seemingly from nowhere, and held the flame towards him, it’s dim light illuminating his chiseled face. He’d never had a problem finding women who were interested in him, for what he lacked in personality, he certainly made up in physical appearance. He had foreign features, olive toned, and strikingly Italian. His voice was smooth, like velvet, and even when he was nervous and stumbled over his words, they still flowed together in an ever confident matter into the listener’s ear. Women usually had no power over him, he was immune to their petty tactics. Jasmine had always been an exception to that rule, she made him feel weak and intimidated, and almost physically nauseous. His attraction to her had always been more than purely sexual, he had been in love with everything about her for years. “So do you want to fuck, or what?” Her voice shattered his train of thought, yet again, this time completely startling him. He couldn’t believe she had just said those words, and he couldn’t help the inevitable smile curling around the corners of his lips. He reminded himself to play it off, think about her proposition for a moment, perhaps turn down her vulgar offer with disgust. He knew he didn’t have that willpower, and he felt himself readily agreeing, and making plans to meet in the bathroom in a minute. He took another hit off his cigarette, trying to steady his already shaking hand. He watched her back as she walked away, her heels clicking against the vile wooden floor, and he felt his eyes move downwards loftily. What exactly had he gotten himself into? ok, well, I'm in college in a creative writing class, and we have to bring in an introduction to a story.. so there's mine. sorry if it's no sexual enough yet, just hasn't gotten there - lol. anyways, any feedback would be greatly appreciated. just take it for what it is so far.