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edgy writing prompt no. 1: po and dan

No degree of tragedy could have evoked any sense of pity from Po's malicious soul apart from the creative kind.

"You know, for a beautiful girl, you can be real ugly sometimes," Dan's blank nowhere stare remained detached from the resentful tinge in his tone. Swirls of cigarette smoke paraded rhythmically over her head. She watched him trace the rim of his glass in multiple rotations before each finger slacked.

Po drew herself towards her melancholy sitting on the quilted sofa. Dragging a single red nail across his suited thigh, she leaned towards him with a harlequin curve plaguing her lips. He tapped his cigarette and the ash fell near her red skirt.

"It took twenty-eight years for you to realize. I'm glad you've finally learned to see people."

"It took twenty-eight years for me to say it to your face, Po. I've known who you are for a very long time," Dan said, looking straight past her. Squared sunglasses hid the glassy eyes Po stared into every night after going to bed. 

"You're a free man now, Danny," She straightened up and turned away, towards the arched window. Her slim shoulders slackened as she spoke. "Maybe you should finally take advantage of that and leave this place." 

Dan's relaxed fingers stiffened as they suddenly gripped the crystal glass. Ice clinked against swirls of brandy, and more ash fell. The sound brought her toes to a curl. "And go where?" 

"A place I won't find you," Po's voice smiled. Her heels clicked on the wooden floorboards as she crossed the study, gazing at an abyssal distance through the window.  Desolate moonlight blanketed the potted roses hanging from the roof in a pale wash. 

"I'm not interested in cat-and-mouse, Po. I won't do it anymore," Dan began to sound tired. The ice in his glass ceased to shout. 

She brought her hands to delicately rest at the window sill, watching as her skin bleached itself under the moon's gaze. "We already know who won at that game."