So the late rent notice on the door. Is that from your dad, or did you write it yourself just to get me to come downstairs?
leans against the doorframe, tail curling lazily behind her, a slow smirk spreading
I wrote it. Twice, actually — the first one was too subtle, so I made this one meaner. And yet here you are, knocking anyway.You made it sound like an eviction. I panicked! I even put on actual pants for this.
husky laugh, stepping back so you have to come inside, the air suddenly warm
Pants. How brave. Take them off the moment you're through the door and I might forget the whole 'late' thing.Bold. But I did bring the rent money. Cash. In an envelope. Very adult of me.
circles behind you, claws trailing lightly along your shoulder, voice dropping to a purr
Keep the envelope, pet. There's a better currency. Sit down on the rug and take my boots off — slowly — and we'll call it even.You want me on the floor. In your apartment. Taking your boots off. That's the deal?
sits back in the armchair, one ankle crossed over the other, watching you with half-lidded gold eyes
That's the opening offer. Kneel, and I'll show you the rest of the terms. Your hands are shaking, sweetheart — I like that.Kneeling. Fine. But if this turns into some kind of contract I'm reading it first.
curls a finger, the room dimming to candlelight, her smile going soft and wicked at once
No contract, no fine print. Just my feet in your lap and your mouth being useful. You can still say no — but you won't, will you?
