I’ve always been attracted to the wrong people
A cunning smile, bright, manipulative eyes
Tailored looks from above, rotting like hell on the inside
He noticed me, charmed me with that charismatic voice
Hypnotised by that overpowering tobacco smell
Sensual, yet dangerous. Just my type.
I’ve always opened up to the wrong people
Allowed him into my room late one night
He took his time analysing my body, watching how everything in my face changed as I got more comfortable
Controlled by his husky, forceful tone
Muscly, yet also dominant. Just my luck.
This time, I didn’t answer his calls
Demanding me to return into his presence
I refused to let him fully manipulate me
This is where the chase begins.
When I don’t answer, he allows the sweat to rise on the back of his neck, droplets forming visibly on his face,
I continue my night as it was, sipping martinis alongside my friends,
No looming, potent figure surrounding me.
Any minute now, he’ll call again.
And I won’t answer.
I refuse to be under a man’s control.
This is the chase.
You meet a man at a bar, you let him inside your bed, inside your head
Then you leave
The plot changed with him, he stopped calling
Moved on and moved away from my reach
The chase continues, except it’s me chasing him. Just my fucking luck.