Only Mortal

The Dragon

POV: female (Images above are what I'm basing this off of)

From the large windows it seemed like a normal night. A city that never sleeps, with boutiques overcrowded and overpriced with conversations intoxicated by liquor.

12:45 am.

He must be heading back soon. Maybe he forgot I owned a key. I wonder if he will be bring back another girl? Fuck him. No matter what, when he sees me, he will be weak in the knees.

His neighbors had glared at me with disgust when they saw me roaming the halls, as if this was another one of our late night interactions. This is business, no harm no foul. Outside the night was alive with narcotics. Red neon lights filled the alley ways as people blew clouds of smoke into the sky. Just to suffocate their minds and numb their dull lives, even if it was for a couple of hours. Among the crowd, the puppet masters came out to play. Their bags overflowing with unknown substances while they patrolled the street. They proudly welcomed suspicious stares from onlookers, because they knew all angels would fall from heaven.

Then he drifted into view.

I glared at him as he fought though the blanket of smoke and red flashing neon lights. He looked like a breath of fresh air among the pollution on the ground. Yet he was my poison, my addiction. His tall posture was hidden beneath the black suit jacket slung over his shoulder. His dark, curly hair contracted his untouched outfit. He's always had a bad temper and it seems someone tested his patience. Even from above, I could see his jaw clench with anger as his fingers raked through his hair. Women of the night scanned him up and down, hoping he would glance their way and take them home.

If only it were that easy.

Onlookers peered at his white dress shirt which was unbuttoned at the top. Allowing bystanders a glance at the tattoos that lined his skin and the gold pendant that laid on this chest. He was teasing them. Allowing them to see only part of the inked dragon on his skin. The part that danced along his collarbone and yearned to reach beyond his sharp jawbone. For they will never know that the rest of the dragon lies beneath the surface.

To the ignorant, he seems strong and graceful but, in reality, he walked like an egotistical god. Nodding to the dealers around the corner, greeting the police officers that recognized him, and winking at the women who dared to make eye contact. He was the poison in this city.

He strode to the door, his hands reaching for the gold embellished handles. But something stopped him and his body went rigid. He wearily stepped back, his gaze moved up the building. At each floor his eyes wandered to various windows, drinking in the night dwellers and home bodies. Until his gaze found the distant figure that stood before his bed.

Although I was on the top floor, his gaze drank up every inch of my silhouette. My black, silk dress clung to my skin and it hugged every curve perfectly.

Just the way he liked it.

Chills ran up my spin and I shivered at the sight of him. As a threat, I lifted the edge of my skirt. Reveling the red lace that lay against my hips. From below I could tell he needed it. His body tensed and I could see his knuckles turn white as his hand clenched into a fist. While we held eye contact, he bit his lower lip and threw up his middle finger. Warning me:"be prepared."

For a second, time stood still for use. Like when the waves are still before a storm.

Then he rushed to the entrance and flung the door handles open. Once his body became consumed by the building, I knew the game had begun.

Within his bedroom lay obsidian sheets and black, industrial furnishings. An elegant bachelor's pad. The housekeepers would clean away the liquor, narcotics, and blood stains everyday even though he had no one to hide from. No on ever questioned who he took into the bedroom for dinner every night. In such an expansive room, he only had a bedight lamp for light. The dim room made the city seem so much brighter. Like he said, "Darkness hides more from the mind than it does the eye."