│♛ 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝕺𝖋 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑 - 𝕮𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖇𝖆𝖓 ♛│

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟛- ♛ 𝕸𝖊𝖓, 𝕸𝖊𝖓, 𝕸𝖊𝖓 ♛

    She walks into Dorian's place, confidence radiating off of her like a ray of sunshine. With her head held high, and her heels gently clicking against the clean marble floors, she makes her way towards the bar.

The talking amongst the men instantly hushes, and numerous sets of warlock eyes look up to see who this new and mysterious woman is.

   She takes a seat on the closest bar stool, looking at the attractive young man pouring drinks in front of her.

"Are you Dorian?" She asks. His eyes meet her brown orbs, and flirtatiously he responds, "I am. What's a beautiful witch like yourself doing here, in a gentleman's club?" 

    She smirks up at him, raising her brow.

"Well, I'll have you know, I'm Athena Spellman and I was sent by my Aunties to stay with you during the summer. I'm assuming you'll be a dear and show me to my room? I'll have my driver bring in my luggage later."

"Oh, Athena, right! It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Follow me, right this way," She gets up off of the bar stool and follows Dorian down the long hallway to her suit, the sound of high heels against the floor echoing in the distance.

     He stops in front of a black door and opens it with a flick of his wrist. "And this will be your room. I'd say it's one of the most luxurious rooms here. Feel free to visit me any time your heart, or body, desires." He says, smirking down at her, checking her out.

    The room was stunning, it was large, dark, and full of elegant black and red furniture. Various candles were lit up around the room.

Athena walks inside, taking it all in. After a minute looking around the enormous room, she slowly begins closing the door behind her, with Dorian still lingering in the hallway.

But, before she shuts the door completely, she peeks her head out at him, "I'll see you later, Dorian", she purrs and closes the door in his face.

•••

    Athena spends the rest of the day in her new room, settling in, painting her nails, and unpacking her endless designer wardrobe. That is until she notices the sun going down outside the small window.

     She always has had difficulty staying asleep. Maybe that is because she loves to go out after dark, or maybe because she is currently living in a nightclub, a nightclub. There is alcohol, and an endless supply of men, men, and more men.

   Do not get confused. She is tasteful and only gives her body to men she deems worthy of her true attention and fulfilment of her carnal desires.

    She gets off of the king-sized bed, and wanders into the large bathroom.

She strips out of her tight black skirt , and draws a warm bubble bath. After relaxing for a solid hour, and finaly feeling completely refreshed, she steps out, drys off, and dresses in a tight, red dress that fits her like a second skin.

She leaves her hair in natural, fiery waves, and applies a subtle amount of makeup to highlight her facial features. Finally, she slips on a pair of simple black high heels and struts out of her suit.

    She continues down the long hallway and wanders towards the alcohol. She needs something to numb the loneliness she is feeling at this very moment.

To be fair, this is the first night on her own, the first time in eighteen years. She takes a seat on one of the many stools around the club.

"Dorian," she calls out " can I please get a glass of your finest bourbon?"

    He turns around, from previously looking into a hand-held mirror, his hand immediately covering his face. "Please do not look at me, I'm hideous."

Her eyebrow arches up in confusion.

"I just saw you this morning, and believe me, your face was far  from hideous".

"I keep getting these ever since he painted me," He says, pointing to the pimple-like bumps on his face, clearly embarrassed.

   She takes another glance at his condition.

"They're not that bad,  plus, isn't there a flower in hell that can cure that? There must be..I remember briefly reading about it when I went through a nerdy phase."

His eyes meet hers.

"There is one particular flower I'm looking for, yes. Problem is, I can no longer enter hell myself. So I guess I'm stuck looking like this." Athena's eyes light up.

"You know, I can go for y--." "Yeah, and what would be in it for you?" He suddenly interrupts.

"Well, I've always wanted to go, but my Aunties would never teach me how to get there, and let's just say I could really use a hot summer vacation right about now," She answers, chugging the remnants of bourbon left in her crystal-glass, the harsh taste burning the back of her throat.

"Ok, I suppose that can be arranged. Just don't tell your Aunties that it was me who brought you there, or they will kill me. Let's start discussing everything you'll need to kno-," "But first, I'm going to need a refill," She winks and looks down at her now-empty glass.

•••

The next couple hours are spent talking in her suit, and doing various sexual activities in between.

Since Athena is a pure witch she does not need to worry about wearing dead mans shoes, or wearing the smelly fluids to disguise her true identity, thank Satan.

   She just has to memorize the spell and she must have Dorian's flower in her hand each time she wants to return from hell.

"The inferno is a lonely, desolate place. Just because you cannot see the demons, does not mean that they are not there. Find your way to the grand city of Pandemonium, quite an exciting city it is! The flower is deep in the forest of torment. Oh, and please do not go wandering off the trails!".

She rolls her eyes at this statement, the liquor slowly filling her veins. She puts her index finger on his chest, "I am a grown-ass woman. I can handle a couple of mischievous demons, you know,"