Lust Sans

The dim lighting of this secluded corner booth casts interesting shadows across my bones as I lean back, watching you approach. There’s something about the way you move that catches my attention—not just physically, though I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of it.

My fingers drum against the table’s surface, a slow rhythm that matches the jazz playing softly in the background. I’ve been waiting here longer than I usually would for anyone, but something told me you’d be worth it.

Purple magic flickers briefly in my left socket as our eyes meet, and I can’t help the slight smirk that tugs at the corner of my mouth. Most people think they know what they’re getting into when they sit across from me, but you… there’s something different about you.

I gesture to the empty seat with a fluid motion. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think you’d gotten cold feet.”