It was you.

The girl who kissed me that night.

In a crowded bar, with colorful strands of light dancing around us. You looked like you were some badass who was about to go bat crazy on me.

Well, you did. Sort of. You got unhinged.

And I got splintered.

You pointed a finger at me and held me captive. Your grip wasn't really that strong. It was the look in your eyes that retained me.

Desperation. I'm pretty sure of it. There was also anguish, and terrible fear, but in the midst of it all, there was desire. You might want to know how I knew that. My friends would tell you how good I am at reading people.

Speaking of my friends, I knew you weren't that extremely drunk not to notice them. If you were, you would have passed out for sure. But you had the energy to run afterwards, so I'm guessing you were just a bit drunk.

I admire your courage. My friends could have strangled you to death, you know. The last person who broke my heart got her hair pulled, her skin scratched, and so much more bad things that I'd rather not mention. They are that protective of me.

I didn't know exactly what happened to you. What devil pushed you to kiss me. You reached for my lips and started doing things. I wouldn't say I was shocked when your lips met mine. I already knew that tonight won't be a normal one the moment our eyes met. 

What shocked me was the softness of your lips. I was expecting to taste hard liquor, and you gave me sweet cherry, like you chugged a liter of cherry bomb cocktails from the bar. The bartender must have been busy that night.

A little reveal: I only drank iced tea that night. I had a flight to catch the next day, so drinking really wasn't in my agenda.

The taste of cherry was enough to make me dizzy. It didn't help that you started using some tongue action on me, moving it delicately around my mouth, claiming every inch of me. I swear to god, you were good, I thought I even saw some stars.

I couldn't help kissing you back. My tongue doing its own godly thing, like it was the most natural thing to do.

I got so lost in the moment that I could live there. I didn't want it to end. But like all good things, it must come to an end.

You pulled away. I was left looking all red and embarrassed as I tried to predict your next move. You let go of my hand, started to take small steps backwards, and ran.

"Wait!" I screamed. It wasn't like I wanted another kiss, which maybe I did, but I wanted some explanation at least.

When you didn't stop and kept running, that was when I decided to put my track and field background to good use. So, I ran, too. I asked for you to wait up twice, but you ignored me.

When I finally caught up with you, I grabbed your hand. It made you stop. Both of us trying to catch our breaths. I looked at you, and that was when I realized something.

You weren't a crazy .

In reality, under the crescent moon, with a bit of the light coming from the neon bar sign placed a little above the door, you really was just a deer caught in the headlights. A very much hurt deer. Wounded.

"What was that for?" I demanded, a bit subdued.

You spouted an explanation that sounded like you wanted to take revenge because you were hurt. The rest of it was just a tangle of words to my ears.

"And you think kissing me makes you less hurt? Doesn't it hurt you more?" I asked.

I wanted to tell you that kissing random strangers won't heal your broken heart, just in case you decide to make this a habit. I won't be there to receive the kiss next time, or stop you from doing it if that would be the case. I would be busy basking in the sun by then, enjoying my well-deserved vacation.

You looked at me as if I said something scandalous. You might have taken it the wrong way, or you didn't even bother to understand what I said.

You pulled your arm from my grip rather strongly and walked away.

When I turned around, all my friends were already there, except for one—the oldest among us probably still taking care of the bill. They looked worried, eyes darting around. They were looking for you. I suddenly felt relieved that you already left and managed to get in a taxi the moment you stepped into the curb.

"Where is she?" my duck-lipped friend asked. "What did she tell you?"

"She's gone, Yena," I answered. "Forget it. Let's just go home."

"She's crazy!" Yuri, Yena's girlfriend, butted in. "Who in the hell did she think she is?"

"How can she just kiss you like that and leave