He did not remember her like this: beautiful, yet so bitter.

No… Not with men stuffed full with bills and cigars rolling down their black tongues.

Her hands caressed the skin of those vulgar men with a graceful, fluid motion which brought any man down at their knees. Her lips slowly traced the wrinkled lines of faces which saw better days. Her lithe body danced—synchronizing with the money that fell down to her red stiletto shoes.

He watched from afar, wondering how she could have sunken so low, processing it and digesting it to no avail. He couldn't have recognized her had it not for her eyes. The smoky red lighting of the joint made things look like a hazy nightmare; a part of your mind submerged in the darkness. Her eyes pierced through the smog, clear as a beacon.

He'd leave once he's fully convinced, once he'd seen enough, for he could not possibly approach what he couldn't even fathom. He sat down in a worn seat beside the bar, just watching with a kind of blank and tired gaze. A tiny woman across him offered him a drink, and he shook his head slightly.

"Alright honey. If you're just waiting for Bright-Eyes it's going to take awhile. She's quiet in demand with the men." The woman gave him a smirk before swaying off to the bartender.

Bright-Eyes?

He looked back at her, and she looked right at him—sparking a tiny flame in her mirror-like pupils. She did not expect him.

His name slipped out of her glossy mouth. Her pale face stretched into a horrified expression.

Her petite body stopped dancing and she fled into a door immediately, but not before catching the web of cash on the floor.

She remembered him at a glance—was his presence that strong to her?

He ran after her, only to hesitate halfway. He knew she didn't want to see him; he was unwanted—a distant memory.

"Well, you're just gonna stand there? Bright-Eyes is free now." The tiny woman had followed her heightened sense of curiosity and approached him, sniffing around for a broken heart. In this sort of place many dramas stir up, and she's always had her part of the scene in some shape, form, or fashion.

He looked back at the woman, eyebrows raised up.

"Is that allowed?"

"C'mon. What are ya a priest?"

"Good point."

The woman chuckled. "Bright-Eyes never had anyone stop by for her...well you know other than our customers. So who are ya? A boyfriend?"

He shook his head quickly. "More like an old friend..."

"Ooh boy!"The woman stood up and patted his back reassuringly. Her gold amber contacts glinted in the bloody background, burning through him. "Then she's waiting for you."

She had been a sweet belle; a wallflower back in their high school years, as pure and as fresh as snow. Prior to their friendship, they never talked much; just quick salutations to acknowledge their presence, but slowly, a mutual bond formed thereafter. He'd remember her going on about how she wanted to be an artist traveling in all corners of the world. He'd smile every time she'd zone out and be in her own little world, telling him things that bothered her or amused her or anything in between. Those moments were usually casual and carefree, nothing noteworthy, just them and her "adventures".

"Then there was this kitten in the middle of the road! If you were listening earlier you'd probably remember that it was raining and that I didn't have my umbrella. So there I was, soaking wet and shivering, and this kitty looking at me with those beady little eyes. He didn't move a single step as I was slowly walking towards him. Then FLASH! A lightning had struck and he was gone! A mere 2 steps ahead and he disappeared like something out of a horror story. I'm telling you… I ran all the way home after that. I can't recall his color though…"

He shook his head, a smile on his lips. "Maybe he was black. The road must've been black from all the raining, and you only mentioned seeing his little beady eyes."

"Yes! He must have been! I knew you were listening!"

"Your stutter's gone by the way. All that talking must have reshaped your mouth so that it didn't stutter anymore."

"Oh yeah… I haven't talked like this in awhile."

"Then what are you doing? Please continue or your stutter would come back again!" He urged teasingly.

"Alright, alright, I googled up pictures of the Himalayan Mountains last night, and oh my gosh I was just stunned! I DEFINITELY would like to stop by there in my travels. Think I can climb Mt. Everest?" She looked dead serious—that fascinated gleam playing within her eyes again.

"You'd probably need Superman to fly you up there," he casually replied. He'd rather not have his friend dying over from lack of oxygen, avalanche, or lack of physical strength trying to climb a mountain.

His dry humor came off as offensive to her, "What if Superman can't fly?" she asked stubbornly.

"Then…I guess he'd have to climb it," he shrugged, boggled with her oddities.

"That's what I'd do. No need for super powers. It's trying that counts," she replied rather firmly.

That pure fascination with the world… That dream to travel had always been what she'd aspire to do. He knew she was bound for great things, but she never mentioned anything about abusive fathers and estranged families. She only cheerfully told bizarre, sanguine, or fascinating little anecdotes that didn't hint about her dark background.

He never would have known at all had he not met her little sister years later—just hours ago...

"Of my sister? She's somewhere in the town bars, or those fancy downtown clubs if she's lucky." It was by chance he found her relative—gazing upwards on a bakery he frequented—those eyes as ghost-like as he'd remembered it.

Her words didn't entirely reveal itself to him.

"Alright, I'll see if I can stop by and say hello; thanks, and goodbye."

"Oh, before you go... Don't make her cry." She stared at him, those uncanny ghost eyes glinting.

He stopped at this and turned around.

"I wouldn't want her to cry. Why, did something happen?"

She hesitated, "It's just… She's going to remember…"

"She's going to remember…what?" he urged.

A look of puzzlement crossed her face. "Has she not told you?"

"We haven't kept in touch for awhile." He replied in a monotone.

"You didn't know a thing at all… She – she's disowned from the family." Her clear eyes matched the color of the cold concrete below her feet.

"…"

"She won't like it if you see her right now...father wouldn't like it."

"I see…" His eyes were fixed to hers emotionlessly. She felt guilt squirm into her body. She knew he was judging her right now…somehow he could tell that…she was the villain…the evil sister.

He read it all through her scared little eyes and turned his back towards her, walking away.

"Please..." And it stopped there, her words caught in her throat.

Please save her…

He hurried along and was able to slip by the door. No one noticed him, except the tiny woman who apparently knew everything.

A narrow, dusty hallway thick with perfume presented his only obstacle towards a single door. He heard stifled sobs emanate from within. He carefully walked in and was upon a dressing room.

"Are you there?" His eyes swept around the room and could not find her.

"Go away! Please!" The voice echoed within one of the dressing stalls.

"So you're in there…" He sat down a frilly fuchsia ottoman and looked steadily at one of the dressing stalls.

He wasn't going anywhere.

"Have you a reason to be here?" Her voice still sounded a bit high-pitch, although all trace of her lacking self-confidence or stutter was long gone. It sounded conflicting. It didn't match her – or the person he knew from years ago…The innocent girl he knew who loved to travel.

He hadn't prepared for any of this at all.

"Say hello to an old friend for one. I came back 2 months ago from abroad and I met your little sister by chance. She told me I could find you here. Well not here specifically. Had to go through a dozen bloody joints to find you…"

But I never would have guessed this.

"I don't know what to say." Her sobs continued reverberating in her chest.

"Me either… I guess a 'how've you been' wouldn't be sufficient," he sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

So many things to catch up on; so many missing pieces… He wondered why he even bothered coming. It's been so long.

"It would. I've had it pretty rough lately," she muttered slowly.

His heart leapt at the unexpected openness. He had no idea what his input would be; her circumstances were beyond pretty rough.

"I'd say it's fucked up more like it." He naturally said this, choosing to come up frank.

"Yeah, I wouldn't argue that…" Her voice softened a tiny bit.

He heard her rustling in the dressing stall, beginning to change her clothes.

"Pass me that cigarette in the counter will you?" She moaned in pain as she unstrapped her 7-inches heels.

Smoking? You? Wow…

I guess if she's doing this line of work, nothing should surprise me at this point.

He found the cigarette pack behind him, grabbed it, and approached the dressing stall.

"Your cigarettes…"

She opened the door a crack and looked at the cigarettes.

"Thank you"

He looked at her intently, mostly at her eyes in that brief second, those glassy eyes that had haunted him in his memories. She looked back as well briefly, before snatching the cigs quickly from his hands.

He stepped back as she closed the door shut, sitting back on his seat.

"Since when did you smoke?"

Since when did you become like this?

"2-3 years ago. I can't recall. Want one?"

"No thank you. I don't smoke." He bravely made a pact with himself to never acquire such habits.

"Huh… It helps when the going gets shitty. Can't smoke in this stall…" She breathed deeply and the creaking sound of the door indicated its opening.

His eyes couldn't resist the urge to stare at her. She was in a simple, cotton thin bathrobe hugging the sides of her body, and her long, deep lilac hair was down. She was without makeup as she didn't need it; if she did it'll only serve as simple decoration. The rest of her features shone naturally.

Looking at her again up close in such an intimate fashion seemed like a whole different world. It's as if every aspect of her grew up too quickly given the amount of time they've been apart. They're still in their mid-20s, and it blew his mind.

He was heavily entranced, until he saw the curl of gray smoke obstructing her face. He quickly snapped back to reality.

She sat a good distance away from him, on top of costume trunks spilling out with colorful silk and sashes.

A comfortable silence ensued, for a good ten minutes or so. During this moment he thought of how wrong it suddenly felt to see her like this.

In the mean time she began to picture a lovely little rainbow as part of her mantra…inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale…

"What if Superman couldn't fly?" he whispered in a low tone. An out of the blue question, but he figured he should give it a try and see his luck. Besides, a thin layer of suffocating silence had settled.

She stopped smoking, tucking the nicotine between her fingers. She knew the answer...wanted to cry it out loud, but she held herself back.

"Aren't we too old for games?" She said instead. Her voice cracked.

"Just answer it. Play with me." He smiled the same wry smile she remembered it to be in her memories. She thought they'd only remain in her memories forever, locked down in an abyss that was her heart.

Her chest clenched and she smirked. "He'll climb it."

"Good you still remember… It was always an idea that you used to live by."

She stayed quiet and only observed him, face blank.

"You left" she whispered.

"I did" he replied.

"I thought you were coming back sooner."

"I had hoped for the same."

Inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale…

"I thought you had abandoned me…" She shook her head, wearing a bitter smile. "In a way, you kinda did." She shoved the cigarette back into her trembling lips.

He stood up, feeling the need to defend himself. "I never knew anything!"

"Really?" Her eyes turned to his... It was the most pitiful thing he'd ever seen. Her eyes were pleading to him.

This girl, she is broken.

"Remember when I told you that I wanted to run away? To travel then before my chance was ripped away from me. I was asking you to be with me."

"I'm sorry that I wouldn't help you… I'm sorry that I didn't realize."

He remembered now, as if reading straight to his book of past mistakes and regrets…the tears, the pleading… Back then he had thought it temporary—that the family fights were meager and nothing out of the ordinary. If he'd known all the things he knew now, he wouldn't have left her.

"It was too cold. I was weak and I didn't share their ideals. They had no use for me. My father thought me an abomination… I was 'expendable' he said. My sister could easily replace me… I couldn't go on. I needed money and I had no one to turn to..."

She stopped, the tears were spilling out. Those memories drain so much out of her… With shaking hands she desperately clutched for the lighter and the cigarette pack. It only gave her nothing but an item to hold onto, to support her, but his hands caught her before she did, and they held on tight.

"You need to stop this. This isn't who you are."

"How would you know? I've changed, and I'm not the same person anymore." She tried to wretch free from his grip, but he didn't yield.

"You're right… I don't know who you are any longer. The person I've left behind… That's who I know, and it isn't you."

There was a sudden silence, strangling the air around them.

"You came back after all this time… Seeing me like this… You must be disgusted."

In the contrary he found her fragility to be beautiful—scarred deeply and transformed with her struggles—but beautiful nonetheless.

She let her guard down at last, giving up in his touch. He held her there, offering what little he could, and started to repair the bridge he'd broken down.

"I let this happen to you…"

She only shook her head slightly. "I can't believe I let this happen to me."

In the silence for his response, he invited himself to slowly kiss her for which she didn't resist. It was blatantly and ostensibly done out of obligation, and he found himself wondering if his gesture overstepped his bounds. The kiss was neither too short nor too long, but it planted a budding seed of tension to grow.

Their lips mingled a hair away from each other, breath to breath.

He hesitated and her heart beat wildly. With only half of his mind properly functioning, he touched her arms slowly and kissed her again. Her body was frozen cold, her movements paralyzed, and she carefully felt for every brush of his skin against hers. It was a new kind of sensation; it was different from being touched from someone else you loathed...

No, this was entirely different... She loved him.

Yet she couldn't deny the fact that everything seemed too good to be true. Maybe she's hallucinating all of this, someone could have easily drugged her, or it could be that she's dreaming, or worse...dead, and this was her living some kind of twilight zone moment when she's granted one wish before passing on.

He slipped his right hand inside the collar of her cotton robe and brushed it off to the apex of her shoulders, fully exposing her collar bone area. He bent down and planted butterfly kisses up and down her neck. The sleeves slipped off her shoulders a couple of inches more, which left a lot to be desired.

She pressed her body closer to his and breathed her ecstasy in his ear. Just by soaking up his warmth she felt excited.

Oh don't let it ever end…

He went down further and was at the valley of her breasts, his soft and fluttery kisses replaced with wet and heavier ones. She bit her lips as hard as she could but the occasional squeak came out.

When she couldn't take anymore she stopped him and brought his lips to hers, kissing him passionately, whilst her fingers gripped his hair.

He moved his hand below and gently felt the sticky flow of honey between her legs. The fluid smeared his fingers, and he couldn't believe that she was this wet already.

"Y-You made me into this… I couldn't suppress my feelings for you when you left" she whimpered in his ear.

Really, it was hard to stop at this point and his initial instincts told him to slow down his advances, however her little mouth twitched and her body ached for more.

It seemed wrong to lust after her so intensely at such a critical and vulnerable time, and if he took her here he felt as if he wouldn't be any better than any of those wasted men paying for her beauty.

He stared at her intently with a hungered gaze, sweeping over the planes of her milky white skin, and then lightly kissed her lips and her forehead.

"Get away from this place. I'll support you, and I won't leave you to this kind of circumstance ever again." He owed her this much, this much he could do now.

Her smile was bittersweet; her heart a series of drumming that was felt by him at each vibration. "Everything is like in my dream. You coming back, sweeping me up with your arms and us living happily ever after."

He felt his cheeks warm up and simply replied,"I barely did any of that."

She laughed, "Oh but you're quite the wayward prince for leaving the princess hanging."

"I…"

"It's fine, I'm presuming we'll continue this later at your house?"

She smiled mischievously, raising her fingertip to his lips.

His heart thudded fiercely at her evocative remark.

Damn, she sure has changed.

He still hasn't wrapped his head around this mysterious woman in front of him, wholly captivating him.

Like some inescapable magnet between them, their lips were drawn to each other. He savored her lip's sweetness and softness in his lips.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," she giggled.

He couldn't find it in him to refute her.

A/N: This story is based off the song "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran. I wrote this 2 years ago, but I edited bits and pieces of this on and off since then. I don't really know if there should be a continuation of this, so let me know what you guys think.

Disclaimer: I don't own the cover photo.