This was written for the One Minute Fiction Challenge.
This week’s prompt is “Improv“.
I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, ready and willing to get burned again.
She had walked into the comedy club with a bunch of friends but now she stood alone at the bar ordering a cocktail.
“I’m going to talk to her,” I heard myself saying. I slid out of the booth where we were sitting but before I could move my feet, my friends tried to reason with me as a chorus.
“Don’t do it man!”
“Have you forgotten how she sliced and diced you the last time around?”
“Charlotte’s like poison to you.”
She was like sweet poison but I couldn’t help myself. I never could.
“I know but I need to talk to her.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I don’t have a fuckin’ clue but since we’re at improv night, I’m sure that I’ll figure it out…”
Before I knew it, my palm was on the small of her back as I circled her body to face her. Charlotte didn’t even flinch at the unexpected touch. Her nerves were still made of steel just as they had always been. I said nothing, truly not knowing what to say at the surprise of seeing her again.
In that short walk across the room, my bravado had disintegrated the moment I saw her luscious red lips. But just as quickly as her lips parted to speak, they closed and was replaced by a slow, seductive smile.
As Charlotte looked up into my eyes, her poison instantly intoxicated me and I couldn’t mutter an intelligible word.
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