I realize that this isn’t the kind of place I thought it was, and get it immediately verified as slender hands wrap around me from behind, and start to creep up under the sweater I am wearing as breasts are pressed against my back.

I blank for a moment, but then come back and pull her arms away.

“Sorry, this isn’t the kind of place I thought it was.”

“Really? What kind of place did you think it was?” The girl asks in a weirdly seductive tone, while rubbing against my back, a movement she took up as soon as I grabbed her hands.

“My friends brought me to a place, where girls served alcohol and… made me feel great” I try to explain it, but it is really hard to pull one’s thoughts together.

“Oh, a water bar”

“Huh? They didn’t serve water”

“They call it so, because it doesn’t really matter what they serve, it is not what you are there for” Keeping a very seductive tone along her explanation makes it sound… Awful. And the name is confusing.

“Anyway, I didn’t mean to come to this place, so please excuse me” I release her hands and turn to leave.

“Oh, wait, honey!” She says as she grabs me immediately after, this time face to face.

“Is it because you are married? Don’t feel guilty, everybody needs a little love sometimes” She is pressing her body against mine and looking up at me.

“Ah, no, I am, eh… Just not… prepared” The pressure feels heavy.

“Is it your first time? Everybody needs to try it at least once, you know”

“it is not…”

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“So you are married?”

“No she’s… dead.”

“oh” The seductive mood she tried to construct is gone.

I walk towards the door but is stopped once again by her holding her hand out and grabbing my sleeve.

“Want someone to talk to? I’m yours for an hour anyway.” The seductive gleam in the voice is gone and I find myself being pulled to sit in the bed.

I don’t know why, but I find myself unloading a lot on her. A lot I don’t think I had dealt properly with anyway. I fudged the details a little as to not give away too much of my background, but I tell her of Atna, the girl that was mine for only a day, I change it so that she died in the dungeon, but I stress my dissatisfaction of not being able to save her. And somehow it translates to Amina. The girl I spent years trying to get close to, left for a little while, only to find my brother together with her when I am gone. As I talk about it, I find they are somehow connected. That my feelings for Atna somehow transferred to Amina.

“You’ve been through a lot, huh?” One of her hands has found its way to the top of my head, ruffling my shoulder-long red hair, the other on my inner thigh.

I don’t know why, but it feels really good hearing that.

“You’ve done good so far”

And again, it feels nice. I feel my head being pulled and I let it slide until it reaches the bare skin of her thighs, uncovered as she is wearing a very short-cut dress. A soft hand starts caressing the side of my head.

“You deserve better” I know she is probably just saying things on account of me being a paying customer, but I feel my left cheek, the one closest to the floor, moisten as she continues stroking my head.

“It’s alright, everything is going to be fine” She says. What follows is a long silence, but I feel completely at comfort. I almost don’t ever want it to end, but I realize it has to. Just a little more.

A little more and I will get up.

A little more.

“I am afraid our time is up” she says. Ah. Did an hour really pass? I feel like it was only five minutes in hindsight, but I get up immediately. I don’t want to trouble her. As I move towards the door, she open her mouth.

“Come back sometime” It sounds almost lonely. Is this a tactic to get return customers? Why does the prospect sound like such a damn good prospect?

I ignore the old lady that seems to make some kind of naughty joke, as I return to the inn and the room I rented and plop down on the bed there.

I feel a little pathetic and refreshed. A weird mix of emotions. There should still be some time until the dinner I paid for. I should do something in that time, but I end up just lying here a little while, trying to transport my mind to relive the sensation of the warm thighs, the delicate hand running over my cheeks or through my hair.

I think I am lonely.