“I love you.”
The man lay beside her on the bed, naked beneath the sheets with his hand on her hip. The nautolan gently cupped his cheek and studied his eyes. Alcohol stained his breath.
“No you don’t,” she muttered with a sad smile.
The man furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard that from a lot of men and women,” she responded emotionlessly, pushing the covers away as she sat up. Her feet padded against the floor.
“Where are you going?” The man asked.
“Getting a drink,” she responded.
The man propped himself up on his elbow, watching Vi grab her robe and slide it over her slender shoulders. She tread out the door and into the kitchen, and disappeared behind the wall. He heard a glass clink against the counter. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because we only met last night,” she responded. Her fingers wrapped around a bottle and the liquid filled the cup. “I used to believe it when my partners told me they loved me,” her voice quivers. “But it’s always the same. They leave the next morning and I never see or hear from them again. I’m just the dancer, after all,” she laughs bitterly and tears sting the corners of her eyes. “That’s the only thing I’m good for right? A pretty face and a good fuck?”
The man doesn’t respond and her silent tears fall.
She takes a swig of her drink. “You should probably go,” she sniffed. “The sun will be up soon.”