Of Wolf and Dragon Chap.1 by Serenity607 (critique requested)

It was a late Thursday afternoon, dreary from the cold, rainy April weather. From inside the coffee shop, relaxing in the overstuffed black chair that resided in the corner, he watched with half closed eyes as the wind whipped about outside. The trees bent willingly to the endless onslaught, young spring leaves and pink flower petals from the cherry trees looking like passionate lovers in the chaotic dance the wind wound them into. He glanced down at the mug he held in his hands, the steaming coffee warming his fingers as they curled around it, but not nearly enough. Nothing was ever warm enough. With a deep, growling sigh, he let his eyes drift shut, his mind wondering to his work while his ears picked up on all the small sounds of the shop. Soft, murmuring chatter, fingers tapping away on laptop keys, coffee beans being ground and made to order as people drifted in and out of the shop, some on their ways to work, some looking for a temporary relief from the downpour of rain that had just started. They all stunk to him, causing his nose to wrinkle. Human, let alone wet human, was a disgusting smell. They wreaked of it; dead, rotten animal that had been sitting in a swamp. None of them noticed, their noses dull and useless. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a moment before exhaling in a gust of restlessness and annoyance. Opening his eyes, those dark, black eyes with the slightest hint of silver ringing the pupil, those eyes that never missed anything, he looked out the window to the dreary landscape on the other side of the glass. What little traffic there was flowed evenly, small people with even smaller minds racing to get to their destinations. The rain pounded the sidewalk, washing away the fallen petals and pollen that had settled these past few weeks of spring. Few people walked the streets, huddled under their umbrellas, scurrying as quickly as they could to get indoors. His dark eyes scanned the tree lines, the bushes, the flowers. So much beauty, but he found no inspiration in it.

His thoughts yet again wondered back to his work as he watched the rain, the dark piece that sat back in his studio, vivid in his mind. Black and red, hues of blue, greens and silver. Violent, hypnotic, and seducing at the same time. Teeth sinking into soft, porcelain flesh, thin streams of blood running over curves and alleys of the body, claws pawing to find a perch at the hips. He was eager to finish, yet had become distracted. He couldn't put his finger on what had set the tick off in his brain, causing his mind to wonder instead of staying with his painting. With a curse and a clatter of his paintbrush being dropped angrily, he had thrown his dark coat on over the black muscle shirt he wore, made sure his keys were attached to his black cargo pants and thrust his feet into his shoes before storming out of the studio, slamming the door behind him. This piece was important, the last to be finished before his gallery opening 3 weeks from today. With that thought, he raised the mug to his lips to cover the angry scowl, his eyes darting down to glare at the murky liquid, but then quickly flicking them back up at the flash of moving color out in the rain.

Blue, the color of the sea, moved at an even pace through the gray onslaught of rain, making its way down the four blocks towards the shop . He watched as it moved closer, the shape becoming clearer as it approached. Another stinking human to crowd in and order coffee. To sit and babble away stupidly with its kind, making plans and gossiping like a pair of hens did. His eyes slid away from the blue umbrella with distaste as its owner approached the sidewalk and walked to the opening of the shop. The little bell above the door chimed happily, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Leaning forward in his chair, he placed the partially empty mug on the table in front of him and squeezed his eyes shut, stretching his arms above his head, inhaling deeply once more, waiting for the rancid smell to assault his senses. Instead, he was greeted by the most peculiar, intoxicating scent, like nothing he had ever come across before...

A soft, earthy tone, with sandalwood and vanilla entwined throughout, the rain from outside enhancing it. His eyes snapped open as the hair on his body stood on end, his blood suddenly racing through his veins, hot like molten lava, as his head whipped around to stare into the dimly lit coffee shop. The scent... It was intriguing and addicting. Those dark eyes, the eyes that never missed anything, took in the blue umbrella they came to rest on.

The raindrops glistened in the low light, looking beautiful against the sea they sat on. Following the length of blue, he saw pale hands, the slim fingers with nails painted the darkest raven black, tipped midnight blue, (he scoffed softly, thinking of the silly things woman do with their nails, while at the same time finding it rather sexy for some reason.) A slender wrist encircled by a silver bracelet, with little charms hanging from it. Pentacle, Wing, Wolf, Wild Cat, Tree, Dragon... This last one made him raise a brow. Dragon, combined with wolf and wild cat, how interesting. His gaze continued from the bracelet up the arm, which was clad in black fishnet fabric, to the slender shoulder with a dark blue blouse hanging loosely from it. His eyes admired the delicate structure of collar bone, perfect and subtle under the milky white skin, then flicked to the curve of neck that was exposed. A thin band of black silk circled it, a blue stone of lapis tinted with white and gold flecks, hanging at the hollow of throat that belonged to this creature. The stone rose and fell gently with every breath taken, the movement, for whatever insane reason, made him look further up, examining the soft, inviting curve of slightly parted lips. The tip of her tongue darted out to touch the full curve of bottom lip, followed by her teeth scraping and tugging lightly as she spoke with the man at the counter.

Inhaling deeply again, the scent now filled the shop, drowning out the stink of human. It had to be coming from her. He forced his eyes to move from her lips, as he found himself thinking (insanely, he knew) of how much he would love to kiss them, to crush his lips to hers, to bruise them with little bites. He took in the soft, yet sharp line of her jaw, the gentle arc of her cheek bones, a light flush of pink tinting the skin from the warmth of the shop, and knew he would find a way to incorporate her fine structure into his art. Watching as a piece of hair fell across her face, he took in its color. She was brunette, with strips of blue dyed hair framing her cheeks, the ends brushing against her jaw (he found himself to be inexplicably, intensely jealous of those strands of hair). Soft shades of gold naturally twined themselves with her soft brown color, tumbling down her back in soft waves, reaching well past the curve of her hips, and upon closer examination, past the roundness of her ass. And what an ass... He jerked his eyes away from her shapely hips, and stared at the floor, ashamed of himself. He never cared for the way anyone looked. It wasn't the way he was. But this person, this creature, had walked into the coffee shop from out of the rain. Her scent had captivated him, and now he found he couldn't resist the urge to look back up at her.

He watched as she reached forward to accept whatever coffee she had ordered, noticing a small tattoo on the inside of her right wrist (what looked like two crescent moons on either side of a circle), and inhaled sharply as she laughed. The soft, sweet peal of laughter that passed through even softer looking lips seemed to be the only sound that filled the room, making his heart stop and his breath come in a low, heavy grunt. What was wrong with him?! He never cared about anything but his art. Yes, his art that sat back in his studio, that waited for him to walk away from his almost empty mug on the table, that waited for him to come back and pick up the brush, that waited to be finished. He had almost worked up the strength to get up and walk out to do that very thing when she turned towards him, her eyes scanning the room for a place to sit, and coming to rest on his. Her eyes. A shade darker than the blue of her umbrella, but a thousand times more beautiful. They were filled with good humor, sparkling like sapphires hung against a dawning sky. He could make out each hue of blue that made up these precious gems, intrigued by the complexity of them. Gold, like the faint silver in his eyes, but much more intense, encircled her pupil, bursting out from them like an exploding sun.

A smile crept to her lips as she watched, and it made him wonder what she was smiling at with such humor. He realized then that he was staring, slack jawed, like a complete fool. Snapping his jaw shut, he yanked his head back around and looked away, once more watching the rain pound relentlessly at the pavement. He couldn’t believe he had let himself stare like that, enjoying the way her body curved under her clothes, wanting to brush his fingers across her jaw, her cheek, her hips... He blinked as a napkin fluttered to the table in front of him. Blinking again after a moment, he picked it up and read what was scribbled on it:

You have red paint on your jaw.
It suits you.

He stared at the neat scribble of blue words, his mind trying to process them, when the soft chime of the bell drew his attention away. He glanced up to see the blue umbrella and it's beautifully mysterious owner walking out. After watching for what seemed like forever, he quickly stood, grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and stuffed the napkin in his pocket before angling for the door, the coffee on the table forgotten. Shoving it open, he was greeted by the fresh, cool, wet air of spring while his eyes darted around, searching for the sea of blue in gray. He couldn't find it! How could she have disappeared so quickly?! With a slightly heated but very frustrated, huffed growl, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargoes, feeling the napkin brush against the finger tips of his right hand and turned left to walk to his studio. Speaking of paint, he had a piece waiting for him, with only 3 weeks to go until his gallery opening...

Of Wolf and Dragon Chap.1 (critique requested)


24 December 2014 at 07:20:34 MST

1,883 Words

Warning: This story is marked as general for now, but will be upgraded to explicit as it progresses.

Story, Plot, and Serenity (C) Serenity607 Serenity607
Chains (C) Chains607 Chains607

Submission Information

Literary / Story