“Come on! Let’s dance your worries away.” Anam pops her headphones on for the silent disco and immediately squeals. “Oh my god. This is our song! We have to dance!”
She points to the headphones and backs her way onto the dance floor, beckoning for us to join her as she shakes her ample booty.
I slip my own headphones on and turn the volume up. I don’t remember ever declaring a remix of Rihanna’s Disturbia was ‘our song’, but I don’t argue with Anam’s infectiously good mood. I let her coax me onto the crowded dance floor.
The room itself is relatively quiet, and the music is perfectly loud in my ears, so it’s easy to forget that people can actually see us. My friends and I bump and grind around the dance floor, having fun as three women, just existing.
After a few songs dancing with my friends I’ve actually managed to banish Colin from my thoughts when I spot the Mothman again.
Staring right at me.
1 Female Indiana Jones, Female Steve Irwin, Female Ghostbuster, mostly just ‘female’ in front of any khaki colored pop culture figure.
2 Sometimes, in this case, means frequently.
3 Or maybe not in this economy.
2
PIPER
The Mothman is leaning against the end of the bar, his arms folded across his chest making a strange and intriguing silhouette with his wings tucked in tight to his shoulders and his antennae high above the crowd. I wouldn’t expect him to be interested in me when he clearly had the bustiered devil as an option. Although, she seems to have disappeared. Do I mind playing second fiddle to another woman? Or maybe I’m only imagining he’s watching me?
Three more surreptitious glances in his direction prove he’s definitely watching me.
The fourth glance over, he’s disappointingly absent from the spot I’ve been making eye contact with.
Crap. I should have made my move.
And then he’s standing directly in front of me, his antennae swaying slightly in the air. I stumble a step, surprised by his appearance.
“Holy shit.” Kelly mouths at me from behind the Mothman's arm. “You good?” She’s holding up her fist alternating between a thumbs up and a thumbs down.
I smile in her direction and give her a hesitant nod. Nervous as I am, it’s not that the Mothman is going to do anything inappropriate.
Her cheeks stretch into a wide grin, and she tugs Anam in another direction so I’m actually alone with the Mothman.
His mouth arms quirk into a smile, and he taps the headphones he’s wearing around his neck. I take the cue to lower my own, he leans close to my ear, his hand floats at my waist, not quite touching me, and his antennae barely brush against the top of my head.
“Would you like to dance with me?” There’s something strangely formal about his question, the simplicity of it has my chest tightening. I’ve never really spoken to a cryptid before, let alone touched one. The strange curves of his body have my stomach twisting. It’s more than wanting to replace Colin. There’s beauty in the Mothman’s alien form. I want to see what happens between us tonight. Not for the novelty, because something about this soft-spoken, gentle creature is exactly what I need in my life right now.
“Yes, please.” I don’t miss the way his wings flutter, just a little, when I answer. It's adorable.
We put our headphones back on, and his slender fingers find my waist. He tugs me a little closer, so our bodies barely graze. He sways strangely, not quite the way a human would dance, but he doesn’t disrupt the crowd. When I catch his rhythm better, I let myself be pulled up against him, slipping his leg between mine, and following his lead. My hand creeps up to brush along the exposed fur on his arms. It’s so soft and silky that I can’t stop myself from trailing fingers through it a few more times. Velvet. It’s like stroking the most luxurious velvet. I wonder if he’s velvety soft everywhere. I wonder if I’m going to get a chance to find out.
When I look up, he’s studying me, his antennae waving in time with the music. He’s decidedly inhuman, and decidedly cute; with expressive antennae, a thick black fur collar around his neck, and wide red eyes that make me a little nervous as they study me. I avoid looking at his face, staring forward into his chest instead. My hand finds its way to the spot I’m admiring, enjoying the heat under his shirt and the pleasant hum emanating from beneath his ribs.
We spend long moments wrapped in each other’s arms. As the music changes, so do his movements. He doesn’t release me, and I don’t feel a desire to leave. He doesn’t say anything, he only sways and lets me feel safe in his easy grip. This close he smells amazing, like warm wool and vanilla.
When the music changes again, to something slower, his strong hands pull me closer. I don’t stop myself from resting my cheek on his chest. He's soft and warm, strangely comforting, even though the purr rumbling through his chest is completely foreign to me. The vibration rumbles through my whole body, deep into my stomach, and between my legs. I wrap my arms around him and press our bodies a little bit tighter; I could melt completely into that gentle purr.
I'm startled when he pulls back suddenly, leaving my face cool and vacant.
I pull down my headphones and so does he.
“Sorry. Too much?” I ask.
His head shakes. “You’re perfect.”
