i originally posted this on patreon, y'know cuz i need money and all lol, but i don't have many patrons and i'm extremely proud of this blurb, so i figured it's not worth not getting a couple comments or something from here and tumblr. i've been hassling with tumblr a lot because i think i don't get the right amount of reblogs in comparison to my asks. it's been a bit hard for me to figure out what to do with my writing, but i guess i'm ok with what i get for now.
please check out my other book "when the sun sets", the one fic i am so proud of, words cannot explain.
on that depressing note, enjoy! happy reading!
------
5.4k in which an angel wants a meaningless fuck with a demon.
**
There's a scowl on Harry's face that's been there for many hours now. It's not his fault that his anger gets the best of him more often than he can control it, it's just who he is. He's got a hand around a drink, an abandoned one at that, and he's listening to the trash song playing through the trash speakers. It makes his blood boil that humans have let the music become so ridiculous.
He really doesn't know why he's here.
From the moment he got to his car to the second he stepped foot into this bar, all that happened was a disaster. He's probably got a parking ticket waiting for him because he's positive he parked in front of a fire hydrant, but after being cut off about four times while driving here, he's got a right to be pissed off. He waited a long time just to get a drink, and the one he has doesn't have enough ice in it. It's a disaster, that's all.
There's no chair for him to sit in either, and it's getting on his nerves because these frail humans do not deserve to be having so much comfort while he is miserable. He's leaning on the bar awkwardly, drumming his fingers against the beat, lip taken between his teeth.
When he spots her, a weight is lifted off his shoulders and his curiosity is piqued.
She's in a similar situation, alone at a bar with a glass in front of her that she's not paying attention to, and she's not sitting, but when he peers at her longer, he realizes there's a slight smile on her face. She's enjoying herself.
Harry stares for too long. His feet are glued to the floor and his limbs are stiff. However, as if there's an attraction between them, many minutes of longingly watching her results in her head turning shyly to glance at him back through the curtain on her lengthy hair.
His unbeating heart nearly jumps at the full view of her face. He really can't drag his eyes away now, not when she's looking directly into his eyes with a confused expression, brows furrowed together and nose cutely scrunched as if trying to figure out where he's from.
She turns her head away after a few seconds and then focuses back on her drink. She takes one sip and then places it back behind her on the bar, turning her body to face the people. The smile on her face returns, but it's a hesitant one as if she's aware of his eyes on her.
When his eyes begin to burn, he blinks and glances away. He's drawn to her still, and it's not a surprise to him when he pushes his drink away and begins to walk towards her.
Whatever sixth sense she has doesn't fail her as he watches her back tighten as he nears her from behind, and her fingers tensely knot together, unsure of what to do with herself. Harry's amused at her discomfort, but intrigued by how she makes no effort to move away.
When he reaches her, the smile is gone from her face and her breathing is a little heavy.
"Hi," he says casually, testing the waters.
