Strange Tides (unfinished)

[I]: Late Arrivals

The only thing Esme loves more about her city than its two levels and abundant vegetation is the diversity of its inhabitants. Just two weeks earlier, she had found herself in the nest of a female harpy and had left with talon scratches on her legs. Tonight, she finds herself in bed with a muscular, purple-skinned demon, who has proved that he was definitely worth her time.

His fingers caress her hair as he marvels at her curls, and Esme examines his large, curved horns. In a demon community, horns like that put him near the top. In a city like this, he's just another alpha male living on the second level.

"I think that the darker a human's skin, the better curled their hair is," the demon—she honestly can't remember his name—says. "Those lighter ones always have wavy hair."

Esme lets the demon touch her curls and make idle conclusions about humans. She doesn't often let people touch her hair, but she's making an exception for this man. He's so interested in her that he wants to talk, and she appreciates it more than he knows.

"I've never met a human woman who wanted to bed me without an ulterior motive," he had said. So here she is, still with him.

His touch is calming, and it allows her to forget who she is and makes her feel whole—but only for a moment. Trying to savor the feeling, she avoids looking at the wooden, owl-shaped clock on the wall across from the bed. The clock that is likely made of mahogany, and has a blue minute hand and a green hour hand, and a red second hand. The clock that is hung a little too high and is a little lopsided.

Okay, she's looked at the clock, but not at the time. She can still say she didn't realize she was running late.

Then she looks at it again. An honest mistake, but now she can't delay her responsibilities any longer. She groans and pushes herself off the demon's chest, letting her bare feet touch the floor. He watches her as she bends over to pick up her underwear.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks as she finds her clothes and gets dressed.

"It's not late enough for me to stay the night," Esme says, putting on her loose skirt. "I have other responsibilities, too, unfortunately. And I don't think I would survive another round."

His laughter fills the room. She faces him as she slips her arms into her blouse and buttons it up. She knows he's not looking at her face, but it doesn't bother her too much. When she's covered up and straightens out her clothes, she meets his hard gaze.

"You're beautiful," he says. "You know that, right?"

"Thank you."

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

Esme takes her shoulder bag and looks at her hair in the mirror. She needs to make sure she doesn't look like she just spent the past few hours with an alpha demon when she sees her father again. The demon takes his cue and gets up to let her out of the house. He's wearing nothing but a pair of shorts he had put on after they'd finished. Before he opens the door, he leans over and kisses her one last time.

"I'm not going to be able to do that again, am I?"

Esme gives him a solemn smile. "No, I don't think so."

The demon mirrors her expression and opens the door. It's a one night thing. He knows that. They all do.

"Take care, princess," he says, and the door closes behind her.

The night is crisp, but that's only to be expected from a coastal city. She checks the hidden pocket in her skirt to make sure she has all her shells. She hasn't been robbed by a one night stand yet, but it's always a possibility. Some people respect their princess, and others see her as a target. Esme has learned to accept it.