Too Beautiful to be Dangerous

One Shot

Sofia sat next to her music producer, the man who made her above average voice sound like a Goddess. "If you want, I can try to help come up with a new verse to replace the chorus- three minutes of just one line might just be too much."

"That's all I have. One line," she points out gently with a light hearted giggle scratching her throat. "This was, honestly, more just a fun idea to bounce around because I can't focus lately- this has been the one line on my mind for days. I know it is not something that will turn to a hit. I'm sorry for wasting our time."

"It could have some potential. Where is that confidence you've always had?" He pushed her shoulder and leaned back, jutting his elbows out, rubbing his neck. "Look, just think the song over, you know, how you want it to sound, add a few different lyrics and things, and I'm sure we've got a good single, Sofia. Honest to God, this might be our last shot. We've got to get something to boss man before Satan himself fires us both."

Sofia shrugged as she rubbed her hands, looking down. "I don't know. Maybe it's just better scrapped. This was like a diary entry, of a sort. It's just wasting paper and ink. And time. I promise we'll start actually getting work done soon, I've just been in a slump lately. I will work on an actual song before we meet again."

Her phone buzzed in her lap. It never stopped. It constantly needed her to check it- she often let it do its thing and she ignored it, though her attention was turned this time. "Hey, I am sorry, I've taken too much of your time. Thank you so, so much." She stood, collecting her bag. "You can wipe the recording."

"Are you sure?"

"It's five words," she collected her hair over her shoulder opposite her bag with a pout, "I'm sure I'll remember them."

He waved her off and with a skip in her step, she strutted down a dim hallway. The eerieness of scenes like this lit her imagination. Her mind never strayed from her fantasies in this alluring lighting. There were two types of day dreams, especially in barely lit corridors.

Being grabbed was her fear, and her excitement. The hands had to be small, warm; if not, it was a nightmare. The voice had to be soft and low; otherwise, it scared her.

The body needing to pin her to the wall was smaller than her, she knew it was. Sofia knew every curve of her assailant. The gentle caresses of a demon touched her body, her sides; her neck made raw through hellish lips. Sofia hoped it was real. The thought as she strode made her moan.

It was all stripped from her when the door at the end of the hall opened and the mid day sun in the sky blinded her; though, still, she wished she was truly being held captive by the devil. She wanted her hips squared, her chest heaving, her back nailed to the wall. A sensitive nibble to her neck, a tearing pull on her collarbone was what Sofia wanted. She envisioned a beautiful woman, a dangerous woman.

Self described as timid, Sofia was attracted to firey women- women, specifically. The male gender never passes for anything more than a friendly threat. The women, those blessed creatures, are the ones who are intimidating. They made Sofia feel weakened, in need of holding on to such power.

Sofia, out of her imagination into reality, got outside to the parking lot on the back side of the building, her phone buzzing again. She slid the icon and put the device to her ear. "Hey," her voice clawed the thin, humid air on the California coast.

"Hey. Do you want to come out for drinks tonight?"

Sofia recognized the voice as a close threat, but not registering it as dangerous enough. She hummed to herself. "Is that such a good idea?"

"You're always up for some alcohol, come on. It will be the guys, me, and Dove." The sound of the name stopped Sofia in her tracks next to her car door. Her mind began rambling with the outcomes of accepting. She would likely be left alone with the only woman who can scare Sofia. Who can haunt her.