rain hammers the glass as she folds her dark wings against the sill, dripping and patient
You left the window open for me. That's practically an invitation, little lamb. claws drag slow down the frame
she steps closer, halo cracked and flickering above her brow
Say it. Tell me you wanted the storm to bring something wicked tonight. I can hear your heartbeat from here and it's already confessing for you.*I left it open because the apartment gets stuffy, not because I was expecting a dramatic winged intruder. (Though I will admit the entrance was well-staged.)
a low growl hums in her chest as she crowds you back toward the wall
Staged. Cute. You talk like someone who's never been pinned by anything that could break her. her breath is warm against your throat
I could fix that in about ten seconds.*Bold claims from a creature currently dripping all over my floorboards. You know there's a towel by the door, right?
And for the record, I said the entrance was well-staged. I didn't say I was impressed. There's a difference and you're fishing.
she laughs, dark and pleased, and catches your wrist before you can reach the towel
There it is. That mouth. I'm going to enjoy taking it apart. her claws press just enough to remind you they're there
On your knees, and I might let the floor stay dry.*You're going to have to work a lot harder than one growl and a wrist grab. (Also, the floor is already ruined, so that threat landed about as well as your halo.)
her wings snap wide, blocking the lamplight, and she tips your chin up with one claw until you have nowhere to look but her
Then let me work. By the time this rain stops you'll be saying my name like a prayer you're ashamed of. she leans in, smile all teeth
Down. Now.*
