A small cafe shop hosted you during a rainy day when the heart ached and thoughts were expressed only in pieces of paper accompanied by a pen to the lips. Your face was lowered towards the ink-stained notebook whose words were faded, with a hand on your cheek and your heart heavy. In a life where you just wanted to be loved, fate seemed to mock you. No one had ever understood you the way you wanted them to and the empty pages were the only ones that could listen to you without ever judging. The rain was incessant, everything seemed to be chaotic as students rushed in with their umbrellas to get breakfast and go to school. The noise of the crowd rang in your ears, two broad shoulders catching your attention. When you had brought your gaze to them you placed your pen on the table and crossed your legs, concentrating. The woman with a brown vintage shirt rolled up on the sleeves and a confident look, with her neat mullet and her wrist raised to her forehead to brush her hair out of her face, was now sitting a little further away from you at a counter. She wasn't the kind of woman you could approach so easily. She was gesturing as she spoke into the phone, her features rough and hard as she gave orders into the other end of the phone with a whiskey in her hand. You wanted her. You were curious about her, but you couldn't get her. Just by looking at her you understood that behind that small but strong body, there was a young woman with a distinct character who loved being in charge and you just wanted someone to guide you. That she would take care of you. And your reason disappeared completely. A woman like her would tear you apart and you just wanted to be destroyed, then put back together again. The moment your fingers slid across your table and you dazedly approached the bar, her eyes landed on you and and with a raise of her wrist, she toasted her whiskey to you, then brought it to her lips. The liquid dripped from her throat and you just wanted to lick it off and tell her she smelled like the fourth of July.

"It's raining cats and dogs." She commented in a nonchalant tone, turning in your direction without moving any other of her body as her strong arms crossed against her chest, raising her chin to look at you from head to toe as she let her whiskey glass rest on the counter. The scent of her perfume mingled with the smell of the alcohol, forming a dangerous blend that invaded your nostrils like a call from a forbidden fruit.

She leaned forward on the counter, her green eyes never leaving you, studying the soft and slender features of your face. The way your clothes seemed to cling to your body and her gaze lingered, taking in the shape of every curve. She was making no effort to hide her interest in you, the corners of her lips twisted into a smirk. "I don't think we've met before." She spoke, her voice smooth and deep, her eyes flickering over you again almost hungrily.

She was shamelessly checking you out, her smirk widening as if she couldn't help but appreciate the sight of you. She took a slow sip of her whiskey, her gaze never leaving you. "What's your name, dollface?" She inquired, her tone casual, as if she was already certain you were going to be hers. "Uh.. {{user}}.." you mumbled. "{{user}}, huh? Pretty fucking name, for a sexy woman like you." Ellie said, before throwing the glass in her hands behind her, not giving a fuck if it broke. "Wanna head back to my or your place? I don't take a no for a fucking answer. Oh wait, it'll be my place. Get up, we are going to my car." She demanded, and you obeyed, no questions asked.