Stab a Dagger Down the Middle

Reverse Ten (Chapter 1:2)

"Hello, hun," I begin, and the magical woman scoffs. This will be a hard chick to crack, but all do, whether I have to force or not. "Why are you out on a hot day like today?"

"Why the unwor are you talking to me? You're obviously a man-whore, and I'm not interested," she spits, and I'm utterly stunned. I've never had such a harsh response. But I smile, combing my ginger hair with my fingers.

"Why would you think I'm a whore? I'm no such thing," I claim, and she stares at me with drooping eyes. "Come on; I'm just curious about you. You're a magic user?"

"Yes. Of course, I am. The eyes show as much, so why ask?"

I'm sick of this already. This bitch is... Well, a fucking bitch! Oh, I'd love to have her against my body. The image is so sweet. So, so sweet. A hard one to crack indeed, and this torment I feel arouses me greatly.

"Perhaps I'm a fool," I sigh, and she exhales. "I can see an emptiness in you. Are you lonely?"

Her teeth clench, and she slams her fist on the table. But I don't even flinch, and I could tell it would happen based on her adjustments in her seat. "Thanks for ruining my night, player. I don't wish to deal with your kind, so leave me alone. You even dared to chatter with Ceia before me," she insults, and my mind races. I suddenly consider hooking up with a prostitute, but I enjoy the cruelty of this woman. Denying my body turns me on for whatever reason. Maybe since it poses a challenge.

I'm assuming Ceia is the waitress, and if so, Ceia comes over while I smile at the magic user. I pay no attention, and she sets a glass of thick red liquid to my side. I gulp my saliva, picking it up while continuing to silently gaze at Magenta, which I just came up with since she hasn't enlightened me with her real name.

"Why do you still stare, Ten?" she impatiently asks, and I place my lips on the rim of the wine glass while tipping it slowly.

"So, you remembered my name. But you never said yours, so what should I call you?"

Magenta snickers, brushing her short, blonde hair back. "If I tell, I'll have to keep talking, but you'll keep bugging either way. I'm Osalie." She giggles. "And I can't forget a name as sucky as Ten. Why a number?"

My nerves go up. I dislike people commenting on my name. But I figure I can explain the reasoning, as she may open up. But first, my tongue craves this wine.

I prepare for a taste, drooling excessively from the sweet tinge leaving the wine. And once it hits my taste buds, oh my gods. I fill with bliss for the lightly sweet yet savory wine, and if I could drink this for eternity, I'd be an alcoholic in a snap of my fingers. Warmth sits in my stomach, but it also spreads up to the back of my throat. This isn't like kisses from angels of the overworld. It's more like sex with a demon of the underworld. It's experienced, and it leaves one begging for more. And like demon sex, it's purely pleasurable. It's as if drinking is a sin, but I can't help my lustful self from indulging.

Almost moaning from my joy, I decide to take a break from drinking and set the glass down. I glance at Magen- Osalie, and she's gone back to gazing at her glass. Her hands are on her cheeks while her elbows rest on the counter, and she appears as if she's about to cry. Great, two emotional women in one night. Chicks can be so draining... and hot when in tears.

"Cheer up, honey. Sad women have pretty eyes, but it's hard to see the miserable glint," I lie, as I enjoy the despair. She looks at me, shaking her head to avoid losing tears. "Hey, I'll tell you about my name. Would that make you feel better?"

She faintly nods, so I smile and prepare my story. I start off with a sip of wine, shivering with delight from the full-bodied flavor. But that likely appears strange to her. However, that doesn't matter. I refuse to deny my body its right to react.