Tell Me Ariel, Are You Mine?

Chapter 16 - Fireline

(This book is currently under construction,hence new chapters as of 02/11/2019 as I work to complete the entire book. So if you get this notification it's best not to read this chapter out of nowhere if you're not reading the book. Thank you.)

Chapter 16– Fireline

The window boxes beneath the ledge outside smacked with rain falling domino fast by the time I had an idea for Dante's plate. He'd stayed. A quick rustle of spaghetti bolognese on my dish, and his was without doubt the simplest meal I'd ever created. And it wasn't spagbol.

Curious, he stood at the window leaning back, a bemused look to his eyes while his face ran the gamut of questions as to what I could possibly be laying at this table for his so-called dinner. Sitting in the middle of his plate under the light of the evening lamp, was a stem beer glass of liquor. Ta-dah. That was it. A bottle beside it too, for seconds. Never opened. The strongest bottle of liquor I owned, and only because it was a miscellaneous, and quite frankly irresponsible, Secret Santa gift one year. A little old now. Two years I'd say. Wasn't sure that was even old considering the dates on some wines. But this wasn't wine. This was some kick you into gear stuff.

It was supposed to be drunk neat in the smallest of shots. A toast to something or other, I think. Maybe a farewell to the departed. For that reason, in a split second it was supposed to make you feel alive. So here was to hoping it had the kind of kick it needed to satisfy a being like Dante. Maybe he could appreciate it even if it wasn't his usual kill-you-on-one-sip-alone drink. I was never going to drink this. I was keeping it more as a weapon one day if I ever needed to bash some poor misguided burglar's head in with it and forcefully chug it down that mistake he called a throat.

Dante scratched his eyebrow. "You know, last time I checked, a human's idea of dinner was edible."

I stood back. "And your idea of tasting was me."

"So why aren't you on the table instead? Since I don't have to eat I'm never full."

Because...I shifted a little when I remembered what soured everything. It wasn't lost on him.

"Right. That." His acknowledgement didn't stop there as, after a short pause, he said, "You must hate how much you're attracted to me."

"I'd have thought that about you." I doubt it was ideal.

"No actually, I don't hate it. That's what I hate."

"Because this attraction has lasted a little bit longer than usual for someone like you?"

"Because maybe the next time you can't look me in the eyes when I fuck you I'd be okay with that."

Dante came up to his set-up, face straight and voice stripped of niceties. "And what you said," he muttered. He nodded down at the table. "Pretty creative."

Settling down, I dipped into my spaghetti, but before I could take the first bite, Dante was downing his drink, draining it down his throat with a rain drop's speed. I blinked. Looking at it, he paused. Verdict?

"Weak."

My cutlery near clattered in shock. "You're kidding me."

"No." Empty glass firmly stamped on the table, although a secondary taste got his tongue and his brows raised in surprise. "Not bad though. Thank you, Ariel."

Oh, he said my name like that again. Like a place he visits often because he's so familiar with it. Like...I kept my head straight. And that thank you was sincere, too. I nodded his welcome and found my bites again.