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25 - Skeptical (Ember)

It was so hard to take your eyes off the DJ.

You weren't exactly blaming yourself. The dragon was extremely attractive. You were enraptured by the way her green scales sparkled and her long blue hair splayed and swayed as she swung and bobbed to the beat. Most of it was EDM you'd never heard of, interspersed with a few more popular chart hits. It was coaxing you towards the dance floor, closer to her. You felt the urge to get to know her. You were afraid to talk to her though; she was on the job. But you couldn't pay attention to your friends' conversation thanks to her.

You decided to try your luck another way. Excusing yourself for a moment, you spent the next 5 minutes pecking away at a dating app. Just on the off chance she was on there. You swiped left on picture after picture, until you found her.

Ember was her name. Her photo was a bit more casual, just her out for a walk in some park. The sunlight made her look even more radiant than she did under the electric, colourful lights.

_Im bitch whomst dj. ask me about my paws and call me a queen.

or just send me shitposts, i love those too_

yes ive heard of wrendrick lamar, he's pretty good, you dont have to recommend him to me

Ignoring the voice in your head that told you she was way out of your league, you swiped right and immediately sent a '_Hi, you're a really good DJ!'_You sent her a generic smiley face emoji too. The most generic opener possible.

In spite of that perceived faux pas, you were able to breathe again. Even if you weren't gonna hear back from her, at least you could say you shot your shot.

It was a little easier not to stare at her from then on; that is, until you felt your phone buzz and snatched it up a little too quickly.

hey, come to the booth :3c

You looked up. And she was looking right back at you, her face briefly lit up by the flashing purple lights of the club. She waved to you, then got back to looking at her screen and the crowd.

Oh shit, you thought. Oh fuck. Okay. This is happening.

You excused yourself again; your friends barely notice your leaving, too drunk and self-absorbed to notice. You wove your way through the sweaty, sticky dance floor and towards her booth. Her glowing body and her dark red eyes drew you in. Once you reached her, she immediately leaned over the side of the booth, and you got on your tiptoes so she could shout in your ear.

"Hey! Could you grab me a pint of water from the bar?"

As you went to grab her drink, it briefly occurred to you that she might have just called you over to run an errand for her, and then she'd go back to work and just ignore you for the rest of the night. That would be a power move; you probably wouldn't even be mad at her if she pulled that.

But then, wouldn't she have just asked one of the club staff to grab her water? It was probably safe to assume she was doing this in good faith.

You told yourself not to overthink things and you hurried back to her booth.

Her fingers brushed against yours as they wrapped around the condensation-covered glass. You watched her take a big gulp, her pierced lower lip hugging the rim of the glass, her throat pulsing as the cool water slid down it. Once she had her fill, she placed the glass down in some dark corner of the plexiglass booth and leaned in again.

She asked you your name, just to check that it's you. When you confirmed it, she cracked a dazzlingly toothy smile.

"It's hard to tell sometimes, it gets dark as fuck in here! Y'having a good night so far?"

You told her yes. She insisted on making conversation with you as she worked, dipping up to her laptop every so often to adjust the EQ or make sure the right song was queued up to keep the wall of sound from collapsing. After that she just slipped right back into conversation with you, as though you were out at a café and not having to point-blank shout at each other. You asked her about her set, and that set her off on a long, passionate rant about her favourite artists. She was radiant, and you bathed in her glow. When you talked about yourself, she showed genuine interest, or at least she was acting like she did. Maybe she didn't even hear half of what you were saying, but it didn't matter that much. She made you feel visible.

When she asked you to go to the bar again, she asked for a pint, and insisted that you get a drink of your own. "Just say you're with me, you'll get yours for free too."

As soon as you brought it back, she insisted on eye contact as you toasted. Her russet eyes were radiant.

Midway through that second drink, she let something out rather casually, almost like it was a proposition.

"What sort of hobbies do you have? I'm an amateur hypnotist."

You were surprised, but not shocked. She _was_hypnotic in a way. Not that you thought hypnosis was real, or anything more than some joke or trick you'd trot out for a stag do. You don't say as much, but your expression gives your skepticism away.

"No, really!" Ember laughed, brushing her blue hair away from her blue-green eyes. "It's a lot of fun to do, believe me. "I'm pretty good at it, too. I've hypnotized people in this club before!"

That sounded impossible to you, though she said it with total confidence. You smiled and laughed a little, quickly realizing that it might have come off as a dismissive scoff.

She didn't look hurt, but her red eyes (or were they blue? Or were they a sort of blue-green?) had a glint in them. They narrowed, her dark blue lids shadowing them. You remembered the bit of her profile mentioning how she liked being called a queen. Maybe that was more than just a joke.

"Wanna bet I can't hypnotize you?" she asked. You saw no reason not to. You were curious as to where the night would go from here, and a little bewitched by her already.

She checked her set-up, and patted a stool next to her in the cramped booth. You climbed into it and sat next to her.

"Okay, this song's gonna go on for a while, that should give us enough time. Is it okay if I touch you?"

You didn't see why not. She took your hand and rested it in her lap, covering the green flesh of her thigh that was visible through a rip in her trousers. Her thumbs pressed into the flesh of your paw. She simply looked at you, and began to rub. Your eyes were drawn down to it, to her green scaled thumbs with their claws painted a shimmering white. They dimpled your flesh and traced little invisible patterns. Was there a pattern to them? You looked a little closer. You didn't notice it then, but afterwards you might recall that the music was already starting to fade away into the back of your consciousness. And you might recall how, as your head started to get heavy, and your body started to dip forward, that she brought one of her hands to your face, under your chin, to keep it upright. Then she raised your head up.

You don't remember if she was speaking. Or if she explicitly told you to look into your eyes. But you did. And they were blue, and they were blue-green, and they were blue, and they were blue-green, and they pulled you into their glow as she pulled your hand a bit further towards her. Her tail snuck up behind you, slid up your back and wrapped around your throat, the tail tip stroking with the exact same pattern as her thumb. Her other hand's thumb pressed to the tip of your nose and joined in, in perfect concert, dancing to the beat of her swirling eyes.

You must have realized, around that point, that it was working. That hypnosis was real. And that Ember was hypnotizing you. In spite of the thumping music and the light pollution, you didn't perceive anything but the slow, lazy stroking scratch of her thumbnails and her tail. And the ripples of her eyes. Your mind was dancing a slow dance, a different dance to everyone else in that club. You were locked away in that little booth, and nothing outside of it mattered, did it?

Even when the club closed up, and the lights went out, you didn't even notice. Even when you knelt on that sticky floor and the thumbnails were replaced with toenails, tracing that same rhythm, you didn't notice. It felt good, and that was all that mattered to your melting mind. All that mattered to you - all that matters, even now - was the eyes, and the touch, and the dragon. Ember.

Me.

Does that sound about right, pet? Is that how it went?

Of course it is, darling little pet.

Mm, I think you missed a spot on my heel, there. Go ahead, give it a nice long lick.

Good pet.

"I don't think it's gonna work."

You certainly aren't thinking that now.

In fact, you're not thinking at all.~