dark horse. [tag; julia]

Sirens.

A touchy of mythology should be rewarded, he supposed. Then again, the name of the club sort of eluded to the fact that sirens were exactly what he was hearing inside of his own head at that point. It was a sort of guys' night out from the men at the Ministry office he worked at. They were all fairly young but Sam happened to be the youngest one tagging along. It was Aleksander Carlsson's twenty first birthday and what else could anyone do but hit a strip club? Obviously.

Samuel wasn't really one for strip clubs. Or London. The last time he was in the cold, dank, grey English capital, he was arrested. Hilarious. It was a long story. On the plus side, if the girls were getting paid, they were less likely to reject him. Unaccustomed to being ignored, the tall Swede was continually striking out. Since when was working as a translator for the Swedish Ministry not cool? He was a translator. He was good with his tongue. Girls should be falling at his feet.

It was a cold night as Sam followed his friends down a side street. There was five of them all together, two of which had girlfriends and he was taking a teeny bit of delight in imagining the fireworks when they found out. Dressed in smart dark grey slacks with a black button down shirt, Samuel rubbed his hands together and blew into them to warm them against the nippy night air as the heels of his shiny shoes clacked along the broken pavement.

It didn't take long for all of the boys to wander in. Some had already been drinking, he suspected. Inside was warm and deeply lavish with low lights and scantily clad waitresses and he found his eye being pulled by a redhead. It was faintly depressing, actually. The pretty ones were always untouchable. That was part of his problem. Back in Durmstrang, he was partial to unavailable girls. Girls with boyfriends. Girls who didn't even like him. But back then, they seemed more open to his advances.

His coat had been taken as he waited by the bar, one arm resting on it as he had flashbacks of a similar time with Leonie. The pretty blonde had been dancing the night away while he was stuck at the bar with a face like thunder. Offering the pretty girl behind the bar a quick smile, he ordered a scotch on the rocks. Seemed appropriate. He'd probably be made fun of if he ordered his usually fruity cocktail favourites. He didn't care if they were deemed as girly, they were sweet and delicious and got him merry faster than boring old beer did.

Aleksander had been pushed by his friends into a dark alcove and he could only imagine what was happening. Sam snorted into his whiskey as he took a gentle sip, using his free hand to push his black square rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose to sit more comfortably as he looked around. Faint music was playing and he could hear laughter at his late hour. Nothing was really interesting him that much.

He knew his work colleagues and he was sure it wouldn't be long until one or all of them got kicked out of the establishment for inappropriate touching. His big Nordic blue eyes looked down at the drinks menu as he perused the expensive list of spirits. He had a pretty good job but he was unable to afford the lavish drinks in this place. Nor did he really want one, to be perfectly honest.

As he sat at the bar, a faint whiff of something exotic brushed by him and he turned, just in time to see a mane of golden blonde hair and his stomach dropped. Uh-oh. Blonde? Unavailable? Zing! Kryptonite!

A silky voice behind his left shoulder told him to take a seat and he smiled before he turned around to face her. Pale, dark hair, great eyes and he was raised to be respectful and it was taking all of his strength not to look further south. "Oh I'm fine here for now, thank you," he said with a smile but the woman simply tutted, took his hand and pulled him away. His friends caught sight of him and whooped and hollered and generally made a bit of a racket which only caused him to make a rather rude hand gesture. With a mumble of unwillingness, Sam followed her and took a seat on one of the plush, black leather sofas. Awkward.

It seemed the weather was pulling the men into the club tonight. The wet cold was making them want to warm up with some pretty company, Julia smugly thought to herself as she applied another layer of red lipstick to herself in the backstage area. She liked when the club was extra busy though—men got competitive for attention and competition meant more money in Julia’s pocket. As she leaned back into her chair, she examined her made up face in the boldly lit mirror. The mirrors backstage were all lit from within, magically of course, and showed the girls every detail of their faces. It was almost frightening how it seemed every pore, imperfection and freckle could be seen when looking in these mirrors, but it did help with makeup application. Leon always wanted the makeup bold and perfect yet somehow he also wanted it to look natural. It was difficult to master exactly what he was looking for and more than one girl had gotten in trouble for looking too caked on and fake.

Julia adjusted her fake eyelashes, curling them upward and adding another layer of mascara for consistency. She looked at herself and realized she looked just like herself only a better version—longer eyelashes made her blue eyes seem bigger and brighter, her pale skin seemed almost ethereal and was glowing, the red lipstick just added a fun pop of color. The small girl ran a hand through her blonde hair, long girls bouncing around her face as she did so. Tonight “Anya” was looking more seductive that usual. The innocent fresh-faced girl routine only worked for so long and after seeing the busyness of the club, she wanted to level the playing field with the other seductively dressed girls. Julia wore a red ensemble with pops of lace that hugged her curves enticingly. The blonde knew that red always did her well, she pulled off the color easily. She wondered if the men would actually loose themselves when she would start to undress.

As Julia made her way out into the stage area to begin her shift, she noticed a group of men—all young professionals by the look of it—make their way in. Julia smirked, thinking to herself that young professionals were her favorite group of clients. Usually, they lavished money on the girls, not knowing how much to spend and they were usually attractive. Attractive young men were easier to dance for than old wrinkly ones. But as she focused on the group she saw something—someone, rather—that made her heart drop into her stomach. There was no way, it couldn’t be. Julia froze, still staring, trying to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Her heart was racing, she felt a lump in her throat and all she could think was that she had to get out of here. Fake sick, fake an injury, make herself throw up in the bathroom and say it was morning sickness—anything would be better than staying here and letting him see her.

Julia could barely remember their last conversation—and argument probably, before they settled into uncomfortable silences and she faked indifference. The small blonde wanted to turn and run, but then she saw him being led into a private dance room. The old feelings of jealousy and possessiveness returned from being buried somewhere deep inside her. She didn’t want to see him with another girl although she knew that he had to have had women since their breakup. But actually seeing another girl with him made Julia want to rip the girls hair out. She had never been good at controlling her jealousy and here she was, how long after their breakup and she was still just the jealous little girl she’d always been, not liking seeing another girl play with her toy.

Julia made her way over to the room, ignoring the calls from the men that surrounded her. Part of her wanted to run and go home, but she knew that if she didn’t see him this time, she would always regret it. She didn’t have hopes of romance with him anymore, but the teenager still cared deeply for the older boy and she just knew that she had to see him. Entering the room to the surprise of the girl already in there—a new girl, thank goodness, who was intimidated by Julia and her closeness with Leon. Julia gave the girl a fake smile and said, “Oh thanks for entertaining my regular while I made my way here. You can go back to the others now.”

Her cool glance said more to the new girl than Julia’s words did. Unprofessional? Yes. Did she care? No. Making her way over to Sam, Julia straddled him and began dancing like he was any other client, her blonde hair pouring over her shoulder and close to his face. “You seem like you’re a long way from home,” Julia purred at him, never stopping her dance.

Where was he supposed to put his hands? Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the black leather creaking under his movements. The place seemed clean but he didn't trust it much. He, for one, would not be eating anything made in this establishment tonight. He sighed as he leant back, frowning at the curtains. His friends were drinking, throwing money around but he himself was actually rather thrifty. He has his own apartment in Stockholm, fully furnished. He paid his bills, he went grocery shopping, all on his own accord. He could afford London prices.

Absently, he checked his watch before ruffling his bright blonde hair and pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose to sit more comfortably. Honestly? He wasn't having that much fun. He was striking out a lot regardless so he didn't really want to pay for rejection. Getting all worked up with no release wasn't his idea of a nice night on the town.

Hang on.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of familiar blonde hair caught his eye and his heart shuddered to a stop. Dead. For a beat or two. He shook his head. There was no way in Merlin's underpants that his ex-girlfriend was frequenting a strip club. She was a year or two younger than him so she should tell be in school. Sam rolled his eyes as he watched the shadows around him. He was seeing ghosts again…or was he?

The shock on Sam's face was laughable. His mouth went as far as to drop. His big Nordic blue eyes were wide and growing wider still as a petite blonde with curves like a race track was drawing nearer. He knew those curves. He knew them intimately and he knew they were trouble. He forced himself to swallow as he came to terms with what was actually happening. Oh. Ha ha. A joke. He got it. His friends were playing a joke except he found it painfully unfunny.

For a while, they'd got on great but she'd spiralled out of control in such a way that he didn't know who she was any more. Julia wasn't the girl he'd fallen in love with. The drinking, the cheating, the fights. The fingers he has resting on the arms of the chair twitched and curled into fists, his sensibly short nails digging into the plush leather. He felt constricted. Claustrophobic. It felt like the walls were closing in on him and his vision was growing dim and he needed to move. Now.

Sam couldn't move quick enough and a familiar weight was pressed against his hips and all he could think about was a single sentence from Dante's Inferno; abandon hope all ye who enter here. How horribly apt. She was still attractive, he'd noted. She'd always been attractive and she needn't need all the make up. The red lips, the eyelashes and what the Hell was she wearing? Despite the animosity between them, Sam had to dig in deep to stop his eyes from wandering any lower than her face. He much preferred her in black.

"Likewise," Samuel replied in a low, gravely voice. He frowned at her, feeling faintly depressed that he wasn't that surprised to find her here if he really thought about it. His initial excitement had turned swiftly to cold, hard dread. She could shake her little tush all she wanted to but the feeling of her hair on his skin transported him back four years. They'd been happy once and for so long, he'd hated her. Truly and utterly hated her. He'd blamed her so much for the breakdown of their relationship, even though he'd hurt her too and now? Now he felt indifferent.

"Well," he said briskly as he leant back onto his seat and away from her admirable cleavage. "I didn't have to pay for this a few years ago," Sam replied with a bright smile, his eyebrows arching in surprise as he cocked his head. He shifted on the seat again a little to watch her, adamant he wasn't going to look anywhere but her face. He had no idea where her hands were and that alone scared him. "Dip a little lower," he purred, his bright eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch to rest on a borderline glare. "You were always so good at ducking my questions."

The look of utter disbelief on her former boyfriend’s face had a strange sense of satisfaction over Julia. She wasn’t sure what he was shocked about—seeing her, or seeing her here, but whatever the reason Julia couldn’t help but smirk at him. Even with the wide eyes and open mouth, the short blonde had to admit she still liked his face. The German teenager was surprised at herself for remembering those blue eyes of his all too clearly. When she thought of him, briefly in passing or if she ever just thought back to the mess of her years in school, she always thought of his eyes and how much she liked them. She assumed by now she would’ve forgotten a lot of details like that, but maybe a disastrous relationship left deeper impressions?

A part of her, and she wasn’t willing to admit how large that part was, hurt when she looked at him. The blonde knew that their relationship wasn’t good for either of them, but she still missed him. She knew he loved her at one point, although she wasn’t sure how long he loved her for. What her most was that she loved him long after their break up. Sure she hid it as well as she could, but their breakup hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Emotions were tricky for Julia to muddle her way through and she figured that she could bury that hurt way down once she left. Seeing him now, though, just brought that old feeling of betrayal and her broken heart right back to her. However, she’d be damned if she was going to let Sam see her like that now.

“I’m not far from home, actually,” Julia said with a small shrug as she leaned in close to him, her bright eyes boring into his. “My home is only a ten minute walk from here, but I imagine you crossed a large body of water on the way here, hmm?” The poor man was probably willing to swim back to Norway, Germany or wherever he was living now judging by the look on his face. Julia took a swift look at his outfit and her devilish grin played on her face again. “Look at you all business casual, though. I’m surprised that you seem to have settled down, but I don’t hate the look on you.”

Julia had to keep her sudden rage in check when he mentioned how he didn’t have to pay for her intimacy before. She wanted to smack him, but her exterior kept cool. This was her job after all and even though she could explain to Leon that her ex was harassing her or something, it still didn’t look good. Besides, knowing Sam like Julia believed she did, he’d probably get some sick satisfaction out of her slapping him. “Funny how things work out like that, isn’t it,” Julia teased, her eyes bright and focused on him. “And now I could you get you roughed up just for touching me.” Part of her wanted him to try to touch her, because part of her wanted to watch him get thrown out onto the rainy London street, but another part of her just wanted him to touch her. All of this was making her head spin and she had the sudden urge to leave and fake sick again just to get out of work and away from him.

Doing as he instructed, Julia dipped lower—even though he was her ex, Julia had yet to make a client unhappy. In her mind, she was doing her best just to think of him as another client, but she was fighting so many to desires inside—most of them involving slapping him somehow. As she straddled him, Julia leaned her face in close to him and toyed with his collar. “Oh?” she asked with a bright tone, obviously faking dumb. “And what questions would those be? Ask away, darling.”

What was even happening?

It was her fault. This was Julia all over. She had a nasty habit of leaving him and then exploding back into his life and wrecking everything whilst still being utterly and completely charming. Durmstrang came screaming back to him as he sat still in his chair, his arms by his side, his fingers clenching into fists. Once upon a time, he thought she was so perfect for him but they both had other ideas. Their relationship was too full on for either of them to deal with it so what did they do? They became something dark and something dangerous.

His bright blue eyes watched her every move carefully, flicking back and forth across her pretty face as he tried to burn it into his memory. Sam didn't really need to. He knew the planes of her face and the curves of her body. He could go ten, fifteen years but still be able to describe the little dip in her spine at the small of her back that he found so utterly fascinating. He had to remind himself that this wasn't the Julia he'd fallen in love with. This was different kettle of fish completely.

The Swede offered her a swift, wry smile. "Funny," he said sardonically as he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, unfamiliar music pounding in his ears. He didn't care for this kind of environment much. He didn't think there was anything sexy about having another body so close and not being able to touch it. Had she dropped out of school? After he'd graduated, he'd really hoped her life hadn't become an utter train wreck.

He snorted. "I didn't make the journey for you," he said as he arched an eyebrow swiftly. "If I'd known you were here, I would have said I was washing my hair." He offered her a quick smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. Samuel was still so unreasonably mad at her and boy, could he hold a grudge. His brain was messy and his thoughts needed a reshuffle. Julia wasn't completely to blame but he was still so certain she'd been the catalyst in the deterioration of their relationship.

Settled down? She must be crazy. "I work in the Swedish Ministry," Sam said breezily. "Not the most exciting but it's good money and I have a nice apartment," he replied in clipped tones. Not his ideal path in life but it was comfortable. He got to travel a little bit, too. Which was kind of nice. Was Julia hinting that he had a girlfriend? He wouldn't give her the situation of telling her that he was single. "Well," he said briskly. "One of us had to grow up eventually."

Sam blinked at her placidly, not finding tonight fun at all. His work friends were off, getting drunk and rejected by pretty girls and he was spent catching up with the last person he thought he'd ever be in contact with again. "Oh go for it," he said cheerfully, spreading his arms wide with a sardonic smile before interlinking his long, slim fingers behind his head and far away from her. "I'd really be repeatedly punched in the face by a three hundred pound man with no qualifications than be stuck here with you another second."

That…wasn't strictly true. Whilst Samuel would never think of Julia in a romantic way again, she was kind of fun. She'd smashed his already bruised heart but she never failed to make him smile.

The faint touch of her fingers on the skin of his neck made him stiffen somewhat as he frowned. He didn't like this. At all. Julia was too close, too familiar. His body was screaming to get away. She was charming and she was cunning as all Hell. One wrong move and he was in deep doo-doo. Knowing full well he'd be ejected any second now, Sam closed the gap. He left his hands behind his back firmly but he softly slid the tip of his nose partially along the underside of her jaw.

She smelt nice. Something soft and floral and expensive. Like she always had. How frustrating. "Firstly," he whispered, still so close to her. "What the Hell are you doing in a horrible place like this?" He asked with a frown, thinking of the look on her parents' faces if they knew. "And secondly, why did you mess me up so badly?" Sam asked, pulling back as he dropped his hands pathetically to his side as he frowned at her thoughtfully. Girls were trouble. Now he just felt a bit forlorn.

There was something about this situation that Julia enjoyed, once she was over her initial apprehensive of seeing Sam. She felt in control, for once, which was something she rarely got in their relationship. Everything in that relationship was just a wild blur, nothing made sense. Yet here he was, she was on top of him, and she could stop any moment, just take his money and leave. Part of her just wanted to do that and leave him behind, but a larger part of her wanted to stay and be close to him again. She wanted him to touch her, but she was terrified of him touching her at the same time.

Julia laughed sarcastically at him. Washing his hair? Leave it to him to find the silliest of excuses. “What? You’re not having fun,” she asked him in a teasing tone, with a mocking pout. She moved her chest in close to his face, in time with the music, as she leaned back in time with the music. She wanted to remind him what exactly he was missing out on, although if he was anything like Julia, he wouldn’t need her bosom in his face to jog his memory. She remembered his body clearly. After all they dated for awhile and his was the first body she’d been with. It would take a lot more than time and heart break to make her forget his body.

Her blue eyes fixated on him. Was he trying to show off? Julia had more than her share of money and her apartment was nice. If he was trying to impress her, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Grow up,” she repeated, as if the phrase was foreign. He knew how strict her upbringing was. If anything Julia felt she grew up too fast and this was her embracing her youth. Rules and dresses, do this and do that. Julia’s childhood had been more like a strict office environment than a time to play. He should have known that. With a small shrug, she quietly replied, “You know that responsibility isn’t one of my shining traits.”

His next comment made her stop her dance though. Despite the tension and discomfort, Julia was somewhat happy to see him. She remained still on his lap, and her shoulders slouched a little as she looked him straight in the eyes, doing nothing to mask the hurt of hearing him say he didn’t want to be here with her. He could still hurt her so easily, she realized. One sentence felt like a blow to the stomach and the wind was knocked out of her. “Still as witty as always,” the short blonde finally whispered, a small, fake, smile flickering across her face. She would have gotten off of him and told him to leave, but his sudden closeness to her stopped her. She froze for a moment, feeling the faint touch of his nose on her. Her eyes closed over, enjoying that feeling of him close to her, the feel of his hot breath on her neck. She wanted his hands on her hips, just to pull her in closer still.

Julia pulled her neck away from him, but kept her hands resting on his collar. She kept her face close to his. “It’s a long story,” she whispered back at him simply. She didn’t feel like explaining everything to him. She didn’t want to explain how she dropped out and ran away. Her fingers wandered up from his collar to the ends of his hair. She gently twirled the bits of short hair that were there.

Julia watched him pull back, stunned by his question. She instinctively recoiled as well, moving her hands back to her own body. She messed him up? Julia’s eyes grew wide and she looked at him in disbelief. “What?” she whispered, still in shock at his question. “Are you kidding me, Sam?” Her voice grew louder, above a whisper, but not loud enough to draw the attention of anyone else. “What messed you up? Was it me being in love with you? Or was it you constantly ditching me for Veronika or Ksen or Leonie or any of those other girls who seemed to be able to hold your interest better than I could?” Her breathing grew shallow as a quiet rage built up inside of her. Had this been a year ago, she probably would have already started crying, but she couldn’t bring herself to break down in front of Sam again. Besides that, she reasoned that she already had shed enough tears because of him. Despite the lack of crying, she still did nothing to mask the pain she was feeling. She had no reason to hide her emotions in front of him anymore.

“Why are you acting like what happened with us was all of my fault? I didn’t mess you up. All I ever tried to do was be what you wanted. I loved you a lot, Sam. You threw it back in my face and ignored me for every other girl that you came into contact with.”

"Oh yeah, whale of a time," Sam said breezily. It was kind of awkward. He'd bumped into his ex girlfriend in a strip club and now she was dancing for him. He didn't even want a dance, from her or any other girl that happened to be here. He'd been lured here with the promise of top shelf liquor and he'd walked into a scene right out of top shelf magazines. He didn't really get the idea of a lap dance. What man would want to be all worked up and then get thrown out when he tried to touch?

He frowned. She was trying to be funny. "I figured that out a long time ago," she said darkly as Julia joked about her lacking responsibility. Perhaps the fact that neither of them had fully been able to move on came down to the fact that they both blamed each other for the disintegration of their relationship. Perhaps a few years ago, he might have suggested that they get together and talk but the idea just seemed laughable now. There wasn't a point. They weren't in love. He didn't feel anything for her except disappointment. There was no point trying to salvage that.

Oh. Thar she blows!

"Am I laughing, Julia?" Sam asked quickly, his Nordic blue eyes suddenly steely as they flicked back and forth across her pretty face. His jaw was set and his breathing was coming quickly, in short little puffs. He was mad. He was mad at her. He was mad at her unwillingness to see what she'd done. He was mad because she was here. He was just mad at everything in that one moment.

"You'd never once told me that you loved me," he said seriously, the pulsating beat of the music now a dull hum. "Not once." His tone was cold and even as he stared back at her. She was right, of course. There had been plenty of girls and she'd named a few. Deep down, he knew that a small part of him was utterly besotted by Leonie. The more she pushed him away, the more he had to have her. "You forgot Faina, too," he snarled. He'd reached the point now where he was willing to play dirty. He'd had enough.

"I'm not going to pity you," Sam said as he leaned back, trying to put space between their bodies. "You are not the wounded party in this scenario. Did you forget about your drinking?" The tall man said, catching on to a roll. "The time you threw up on my shoes and forgot your name? The time I saw you in the Port with your arms around a boy and his hands all over you?" He continued, watching for any signs of remorse.

"You can say I didn't care but you know that's not true," Sam replied in a low, dangerous voice. "When you thought about dropping out. I saw you in Belusha Guba," he told her suddenly. "With all of your black eyeliner and your cigarettes, tripping out of the pub. Who sat and talked to you, Julia? Hm?" He pressed her, fire flashing in his blue, blue eyes. "Me. I did. You can say anything you want but I didn't once have sex or kiss another girl when we were together. But you can't promise me the same now, can you?"

Every single fibre of his being was alert. Adrenaline hummed through his strong body as he sat, stock still, watching her closely. Maybe it was horrible but maybe it needed to be said. "You wanna know why I hung out with Leonie and Veronika?" He asked, a slim eyebrow arched. "Because it was fun. You stopped being fun. You stopped being the girl I fell in love with at fifteen. You stopped being carefree. You stopped letting me kiss you in the corridor between classes. You became something else. You became this…harlot who was only interested in me when I bought you something. I don't suppose you remember the necklace I gave you?" Of course she didn't. It was beautiful. It belonged to his grandmother. She still had it.

"I'm no angel, Julia, but I refuse to sit here and face a character assassination when you are the last person on Earth who should be making me feel like a bad person." Sam leant forward swiftly, jostling Julia but careful not to touch her. "You aren't the girl I fell in love with. You're a pathetic former shadow of yourself. You aren't the brilliant, beautiful, vivacious girl I doted on for eighteen months. You --" he paused and he let out a humourless laugh, dropping his gaze and shaking his head sadly. "I have no idea who you really are."

She could feel her stomach tighten and she did all she could to keep her breathing even.  “Yes, I told you, Sammy,” Julia said tightly, trying her best to mask her anger and putting an emphasis on the pet name she used to use for him. “Maybe you were too busy with you head up other girl’s asses to hear me?” The blonde was hurt. She knew that for all the bad things she had ever done, she had told him she loved him. Maybe not as much as she should have, but she knew she  that she had told him. Her eyes narrowed in at him when he mentioned Faina. “Excuse me for loosing track of all the girls you thought were better than me.”

She gritted her teeth as her ex boyfriend went off on her. The pale girl tried to remain straight faced, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. So many thoughts raced through her head, but she couldn’t filter through them to think of anything to say back to him. All she felt was anger. She wanted to smack him, to shout at him, to remind him that he broke her heart just as much, if not more than she hurt him. Her breathing was shallow now, anger obvious in her eyes . The only thing keeping her from screaming at him was knowing that this was her workplace and that there was too many people out there to hear her shouting at him.

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t,” she replied tersely. “All those people who saw you flirting and touching all those other girls were just lying to me, right?” It was true. Too many times someone came up and reminded her that her boyfriend was off with another girl. “And I saw the way you looked at Leonie, so sorry I got tired of being just your back up for the girl who didn’t want you.”

She had cheated on him, that was true. As pathetic as it was, Julia was just lonely. She wanted someone to pay attention to her the way Sam had used to. She wanted someone to look at her the way her looked at the other girls. So, when someone started giving her that attention, she gave in. Julia knew she was wrong, but she blamed him for driving her to that point. She still couldn’t ever find herself to be completely at fault.

He was making this so difficult. Julia could swear he was almost trying to get her to yell at him. “I stopped letting you kiss me, because I was tired of other girls snickering at me when you were off with one of those other sluts,” she spat at him. She could clearly remember two girls gossiping to each other when he did try to kiss her one time. One of those same girls had come up to her later that evening to “gently” tell her about Sam and Veronika having dinner together at a café in Belusha Guba. Her eyes widened at him, only recalling times that he bought her something was after she called him out for being with one of the other girls.

“No, Sam,” she almost snarled at him. “Actually I do still have it, would you like me to mail it back to you?” She had kept it as a momento. Julia had appreciated it because it was such a heartfelt gift. Although she never wore it, she kept it in a jewelry box back at her apartment.

With his next statement, Julia was sure she couldn’t contain herself any longer. He opened up so many wounds that she had been trying so hard to ignore. The short blonde almost jumped off his lap and despite all her attempts, she could feeling the familiar burning sting of tears forming in her blue eyes. She needed to get out of here. “Go fuck yourself,” she said quietly, looking him straight in the eyes.

As quickly as she could, Julia made her way to the back of the club, through the drunk men asking for her attention. She found herself backstage in the dressing room after passing everyone in a blur. She breathed heavily, before screaming out a loud curse at no one in particular. A few tears fell down her face, but she wiped them away quickly, not wanting anyone to see her in this way. Julia practically ripped her outfit off of her and slid on her jeans and shirt that she had originally come in. She grabbed her leather jacket and purse and made her way outside. She swore she heard one girl calling after her, but she didn’t care. She’d make up some story for Leon about why she left, he would let her get away with it hopefully. If not, she’d do extra work, but she knew she needed to escape now.

Julia found herself outside, the cold air welcome on her face. She didn’t realize how warm she had gotten from the anger. Fumbling in her bag, she found her cigarettes and hastily and sloppily lit one. She exhaled the smoke in relief, the nicotine slightly quelling her rage. She walked around the club, finding herself at the front. Her face dropped as she saw him outside the club now, obviously having the same intentions of getting out. Despite everything she wanted to do, Julia felt frozen to the ground, unable to take her eyes off of him.

The only reaction he gave to the pet name was a slight tightening of his jaw. He hated it. He'd always hated it. He'd hated the way her voice sounded when she said it, like he was some sort of puppy dog. In a way, he supposed he was. At one point he would have done anything for her. He smiled swiftly but it didn't meet his pale blue eyes. "Oh," he said gently. "You heard about that crazy night, then?" He asked, his eyes hard as his smile became forced in the dim light of the club. The reason they were getting upset was simple; miscommunication. He was no saint but neither was she and they couldn't seem to get past it.

Sam gave a careless shrug of his broad shoulders as he reclined in his seat, rudely jostling her as he did so. "Absolutely," he said as he arched a slim eyebrow. "Girls lie, Julia," he said simply. "You were always too insecure. If you were worried about any extra curricular activities, you could have come and asked me," he replied with a frown that creased his forehead quickly. "But you never did. You let those stupid stories fester in your brain. They sunk in so deep, you believed that I was screwing someone against the wall when I was running late for class. Guess what, cutie. I overslept a lot. Get over it."

He grinned, all teeth and sarcasm. "She's a beautiful girl," he said cheerily. "Who wouldn't look at her the way I did?" He asked innocently. He'd sort of been obsessed with Leonie. A part of him still was. He was a very childish man. Treat 'em mean, keep 'em clean. Julia was right, she usually was. Those girls, Leonie, Veronika, Ksenija, they were never interested in him romantically. But he didn't care. He was too young. They both were.

"I can't have lunch with friends now?" Sam asked, his slim eyebrows arched. "I only went to lunch after I'd asked you but you were too busy painting your nails or drinking your own body weight in vodka. You know, you are a funny little thing," he said softly as he watched her carefully, his lips turning down in a frown. "I'd never been able to figure you out. At one point, it was one of the things I liked so much about you." Not so much now. Obviously. He sighed heavily as he checked his watch, looking bored. "You listened to idle gossip. As usual, you added two and two together and came up with five."

"Nope," he said breezily to the comment about him wanting the necklace back. "That was a gift and besides, it wouldn't look half as good on me as it did on you." He smiled again. "Keep it. There is no way in Hell I'm giving you my new address."

"Bingo!" He called with a laugh as he swore, careful not to touch her as she leapt off his lap and headed off. He got to his feet easily, glaring at her back as she proceeded to try to escape. "Running away again! I was wondering how long before you'd decide to give up!" The music was loud so he doubted she'd hear him but damn, she was insane. He hadn't enjoyed that lap dance at all. Shrugging on his blazer, he downed the last of his bourbon before making his way up the steps and through the bar. The men he'd come with were otherwise…occupied at the moment. They wouldn't miss him if he went home. Tonight wasn't as fun as he would have liked it to be.

It was horrible outside. It was dark and damp, the kind of damp that seeped into your bones. There was a fine drizzle of rain that was illuminated by the streetlights as he turned the collar of his coat up against the cold and blew on his hands to warm them. The whiskey he'd down hadn't taken the edge off. He was no where near drunk enough to deal with her bat shit crazy lack of reasoning. Sam was left feeling half annoyed, half amused by what had happened. His ex-girlfriend. A stripper. Hilarious! It wouldn't happen to anyone else. Unable to help himself, he snorted as he shook his head. His life was ridiculous. Straight up bananas.

A long slim index finger pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looked to his left, only for his heart to sink again. "Oh fan-bloody-tastic," he grunted, not at all pleased to see her again. She was a bona fide car crash. Half naked with smudged mascara and a cigarette hanging out of her blood red lips. "I bet your mother is super proud of your life choices," he stated acerbically. She was a mess. Underneath all of the swearing and the bravado, Julia was a scared little girl. He looked at her with a frown and then back at the street ahead of him, crossing his arms tersely across his chest.

He did want to apologise for his brusque words but he was too prideful for that. He blamed her as much as she blamed him for the way things turned out. "Go back inside," he said gently. "You'll catch your death out here. And put that out," he said, referring to his cigarette as he lifted a hand and wafted away the plume of blueish-grey smoke.

She couldn’t take it anymore. The insults, him faking innocence, her usually cool façade crumbling beneath her anger and heartache—it was all too much. So much time had passed and he could still get under her skin. She had finally gotten to the point where she barely thought about him anymore and here he was to stir up old memories and bad feelings. She felt like she was suffocating underneath his stare.

“Please, Sam,” Julia retorted with a roll of her eyes blue eyes, not even bothering to hide her annoyance. “It was an attempt to be civil. I’ve not interested in showing up to your house when I have more than enough men to waste my time with and not turn my life into some drama story again.” It wasn’t a lie. She had more than her fair share of men interested in her and she used her free time for dates when she could. Julia had yet to spend enough time with any one guy in particular for her to become too attached—although she knew she couldn’t stay the same for the males. It wasn’t her plan to break their hearts, but now sitting here with her ex bringing up old feelings reminded her why now she ended things before anything could begin. 

Julia heard his words as she exited and threw him one last cold glare, stopping herself from turning around and beginning another argument. Her head was ringing and she was certain she rudely bumped into a few people as she hastily made her escape for the night.

She swallowed hard, wishing for him to turn around and leave, but unable to even make her own feet move. Why was he coming closer? She took another drag of her cigarette in a failed attempt to calm herself. Her eyes narrowed at his comment. “Don’t even mention her,” she snapped at him, thinking of the woman she hadn’t seen in years. He was right though, of course. Julia’s mother had always been prideful of her modesty. She couldn’t imagine her mother would want to see her daughter to have grown up like this, but then Julia bitterly remembers that her mother missed most of her growing up, anyway.

His gentle tone mocked her anger, only infuriating him more. He was trying to be caring now? She found her feet again and her ability to move and stepped back against the cold brick wall, furthering herself from Sam. Julia moved the cigarette back into her mouth and took another drag, this time blowing the smoke away from him. “You know you’ve never been able to tell me what to do,” the short blonde replied coolly, beginning to regain some of her composure. She stared at him for a moment with her cool eyes, hoping the silence would widen the space between them even further.

“It’s been great catching up,” Julia finally said evenly, tossing her cigarette and pushing herself off the wall. She moved past him, close enough to almost be touching him as she debated shoving him. She pushed her blonde hair back and turned to stare at him one last time, fully taking in the man that broke her heart. She opened her lips to say something maybe nice, but decided against it when the words wouldn’t form in her mouth. A small chuckle noise came out instead and she shook her head, deciding to resort to her usual plan when she couldn't decide what to do with herself.

“I’m gonna go get drunk now, so bye.”

She was making his head swirl and he couldn't keep up.

Julia was a spoiled princess, always had been. She was loud and dramatic and attention seeking and his life had been pleasant now that she'd been vacant from it. He wasn't sure if he missed her, actually. When Julia was nice, she was very nice. Kind and attentive, sweet and lovely. But when she was bad, she was batshit crazy. Their relationship was never, ever going to work. She was a smart girl, surely she understood that. She was rude and vulgar and sometimes abusive.

They were butting heads. Sam would rather die that admit that she might have been right and that he might not have treated her as well as he perhaps should have.

Civil? He rolled his big blue eyes Heavenward, asking someone or something for strength. He liked Julia well enough but she was childish and spontaneous and she needed to grow the Hell up. Fast. "Perfect," Samuel said breezily, slipping his warm palms into the back pockets of his smart slacks. "Waste all the time you want, babe," he said casually, not at all bothered. He hadn't thought of Julia in years and he certainly wasn't going to lose sleep over who she chose to sleep with. That was her prerogative. None of his business.

"Fairly certain you create your own drama," he said, flicking his eyes to her as he arched an eyebrow in question. She was so melodramatic. She never did seem happy unless she was meddling or gossiping. "But please do use protection. You're not emotionally or financially stable to support a child at the moment," he called to her as she flounced off. Despite his better judgement, he stalked after her quickly. She'd made him mad and he'd be damned if he let her get the last word in.

With a grimace, Sam turned his collar up against the drizzle, huddling into his coat as he blinked at her placidly. "Mama not turned up then, no?" He said acidly with a brief, cold smile that didn't meet his eyes. He wasn't surprised. Her mother would be apoplectic with rage if she saw her daughter in that get up, smoking and screaming at a practical stranger. In that moment, he was so thankful that he had a normal, boring family dynamic that he could rely on.

With a yawn, he leaned back to rest his back against the damp wall. "Nor would I want to," he told her, keeping his eyes forward. He'd never tried to control her. Once upon a time, he'd liked her anarchic streak. Admired it, even. "You are insane," he told her simply as he looked at her, blinking at her slowly. "Completely and totally." His tone was soft and it was tinged with genuine sadness. Julia used to be so nice, so full of life. Now she was…well, he didn't know anything about her. She was drunk and dirty and she was exactly the same. In her place, he saw the sixteen year old version of her with smudged mascara and he frowned. This was not his fault.

Oh she was going? "Coward," he told her, his blue eyes darkening with anger suddenly. She moved closer and he stood still, not entirely sure what she was going to do. Slap him, maybe? "Always running away," he told her. Sam placed his hands on his knees and bent over, stooping to Julia's eye level as he looked directly at her, his handsome face not giving any clue as to what he was currently thinking. "You're a chicken. Rather than tell me what you really think of me, you go running off to drown yourself in a bottle of cheap vodka," he told her softly, his eyes flicking over her pretty face, almost trying to burn it to his memory. If that was a game, he was winning.

"Still," he said as he straightened back up, extending a hand as he gently curled a lock of her blonde hair around his index finger, a familiar gesture when they were dating. She still smelt the same. "Your life, your choice. I, personally, am going to go home and have a bath. I suggest you do the same." Letting her go, he folded his arms across his chest as he tilted his head with another easy smile. "I'll be sure to avoid London from now on, just to make sure I don't come near the hole you've crawled out of. Seeya later, princess. Take it easy on the vodka. It'll kill you one day." With that, he turned his back and strode off into the cold, wet London night.