I Don't Date Dragons

Chapter 1

She looked through the open door to the bedroom, all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. She thought, I'm never dating another dragon as long as I live.

A Bar: One year Earlier

There was a loud hockey game in the background, no more in the foreground, she was getting an awful headache. It was Boston and Montreal. Who gave a flying fuck she thought, it was all going down in history as who could care less. But then again she wasn't a man, she wasn't equipped to handle pointless data between a group of burly men who traded teams every year anyway. Maybe she should have offered Monique to meet at her apartment.

This was torture.

Her cell buzzed, Monique, her coolest most cosmopolitan friend, was calling and Tiblisi never missed a call from Mo. Cancelled great with half her cosmo left. Such a tragic instance she likes the same drink as a phoney character from a 2000 TV show thats out of style according to its own pretentious standards.

Every time they ordered she thought no I'm not a wannabe this is my drink of choice and I'll be drinking it when Sarah Jessica Parker is dead. Maybe she should switch drinks, never one for wanting to be judged as too common, she thought about the cocktail sea-breeze- yes that could be something.

Stop overthinking and get a new drink.

Apparently Oxen in the Chinese Zodiac tend to like consistency. Without consistency everything in reality can evaporate, I need assurance and longevity, I need reliability. That was her cosmo that was her M.O. she can't change drinks, it just made her hate Sex in the City all that much more.

Suddenly he walked in. He had an easy slow smile as one of his friends said something behind him. She instinctively leaned in without being too obvious about it. He had soft brown hair that hung effortlessly over his eyes, sweeping it to the side with your hand would be a blessing. He had two friends with him, also good-looking by other people standards. But he, he was magnetic. It's just lust, she thought fingering the stem of her cosmo.

He's probably got a girlfriend or a string of them, more likely. He and his friends sat down at the table opposite her in the narrow alley of the bar. Grunge chic was all the rage. Exposed brick said, "We're in New York" and we certainly charge you like we are the swankiest in all of the Big Apple.

She immediately felt self conscious, do I drain my drink and leave or do I order another and listen? Wouldn't hurt to listen in for a few minutes as she hadn't finished her drink yet. Surprising, even after the depressing news of Mo canceling on her. She now thought you've been stood up and you're oggling the most out of your reach man at the bar. Ever the loomer, she became frustrated. She couldn't tell yet if it was sexual frustration or just your average why won't the elevators close kind of anger. You know what she thought, I think I'll order another drink.

She was wearing her hair up with a clip. She wanted to be Elizabeth Taylor, not James Taylor, glamour was something that wasn't cultivated but could be replicated. She thought that made her shallow but hell it was true. Now to be graceful, that was a full time occupation. And because the word had been invented by men for what they wanted a woman to possess, she thought it wasn't that true anyway. Especially because it's in the eye of the beholder. If its perspective then it's not fact.  She had been intending to meet Mo tonight so she was dressed ever so carefully, which was a blessing, because right now she was emanating as much grace and class as her semi-lush self could muster.

She was staring at him when the bartender came over, a pretty black haired thing with a slim body probably right up his alley. All she heard was him order was some some shots with beers to chase it down. Interesting choice. Maybe drinking off a day at work but then again his easy smile while he entered the bar didn't indicate he was in any stressful situation.