“Not if you don’t want to.” The Mothman’s antennae raise a few important inches. He’s absolutely adorable. The velvet of his fur shimmers in the streetlight. He reaches up to brush a strand of my hair out of my face, his fingers grazing the shell of my ear. I can’t help tensing up.
What is wrong with me? This is good! I like this guy! I want to fuck him! I want to go home with him and let him do things to me. I want to?—
His hand drops to his side.
Crap. I am ruining it.
“I do want to!” I clarify. “It’s just, you know, meeting a stranger in a bar. Going home with someone I barely know, letting him do whatever wild thing he has in mind.”
“What do you think I have in mind?” he muses.
I can't help grinning. I cover my mouth and shake my head, not willing to answer that open-ended question.
"You don't need to hide." His hand catches my chin, pulling my face up to look at him. “Your smile is beautiful. It lights up your whole face. I’d smile all the time if it made me half that beautiful.”
Crap. That’s sweet.
“You have a great smile,” I protest. His antennae curve toward me.
“I could just walk you home?” he suggests. “We could call it an early night?”
"No!" I bite my tongue at the end of the word. I have to do this now. Tonight. I can’t throw away this opportunity. This will be good for me. I can’t imagine finding another person I’d feel comfortable doing this with so quickly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else for a while? It’s still kind of early, right?”
“It’s early for a Mothman, certainly.”
“It’s not even midnight yet. With my insomnia, I’ll be up for another three hours regardless.” I continue sheepishly. “There’s still time to catch the showing ofChopping Mallat the Artemis Theater.” I wince, it's a stupid suggestion.
“You want to go to a movie?”
“It’s a special midnight showing. I mean, I’ve seen it before. Several times. Never in the theater, though. Have you? It’s great,an absolute classic. And the Artemis isn’t too far from here.” I scrunch my nose. “If we walk over now, we’ll only miss the first ten minutes or so.”
“Or, I could fly us,” he suggests tentatively.
“What? Seriously?” I ask with a loud laugh.
As an answer, his wings swoop out wide. Street detritus skitters away from him, and with a few powerful flaps, he is three feet off the ground.
It’s awesome.
“Crap, you can like, really, fly,” I murmur. Why is that hot?
“I could carry you.”
“Really?” I bark out another loud excited laugh, and then choke it down. That’s not sexy. I’m trying to be sexy tonight, not come off like a braying donkey.
The gust of wind tugs at my hair. I adjust my glasses so I can take him in. His wings are wide and dark, but they look so very soft. With a faint but intricate design that shimmers iridescent in the streetlight. He’s absolutely beautiful.
“If you trust me.” His toes lightly touch the ground as he returns to earth.
Trust a near stranger for the opportunity to fly? It’s a little dangerous, for sure. But I’m already planning to fuck him. Is this more dangerous than that? Maybe. Probably.
“Have you carried anyone before?”
“A couple.”
“How many did you drop?”
“None I didn’t intend to drop.”
