For Makorra Week Day 2: Noir
Standard copyright claims apply.
"You're sure this is the place?"
He sauntered down the dark alley, unfazed when a puddle of water (and possibly other unmentionable fluids) soaked the sleeve of his trousers. His golden eyes followed the witness as he lithely moved to the brick wall at the end of the road.
"Yes sir, this is where the triads go to relax after a turf war."
The detective walked up to the wall the dirty young boy led him to. There was a hole through the cold brick wall. It was big enough to place a tiny fist through, and definitely big enough to see. Dim light seeped through the opening indicating to Mako someone was inside. The boy held out his hand, as if waiting for something.
"Ahem."
Turning his head in the direction of the boy whose face was caked with dirt, Detective Mako raised an eyebrow.
"My pay?" the boy asked, flicking his hand in anticipation.
"Oh, of course, Skoochy," the detective answered, searching in his trench coat for the wad of cash he owed the boy.
After finding the wad of yuans, Detective Mako watched as Skoochy ran back to his place. It was part of the agreement, after all, that Skoochy leave before anyone saw him with the older man.
Turning away, Mako looked at the brick wall again. The hole was right at his line of sight, the dim light practically begging him to take a look.
So he did.
The detective pressed his face to the wall and looked through the hole with his right eye. Through the smoke, he can see Lightning Bolt Zolt, Shady Shin, and other notorious crime lords drinking or smoking a cigar.
He also saw lots of women. Most of them were scantily clad, some with dresses shorter than a flapper's. Some of the women were sitting by the triad members, flirting and giving them something to drink. Others were dancing suggestively around the poles that were scattered around the room.
One woman, though, took center stage.
Her skin was dark, like caramel. Her brown hair flowed down over one side of her neck. She was wearing a sinfully tight black corset and lace gloves. Her face was covered in a mask, but when she took off that offending piece of black lace, Mako forgot how to breathe.
Her eyes were an electrifying shade of blue. Those blue orbs were looking right at the hole in the wall.
She smirked right at the invisible spectator and started to dance.
All eyes were on her when she danced. Every twist of her body, every dip, every pop of her back made the detective yearn to touch her.
When she finished with the toss of her brown hair, Mako didn't want her to stop.
After she left the stage, Mako pressed his face harder into the wall, trying to follow her with his vision. He eventually lost her when she opened a door, not after she turned in his direction and smirked.
Crestfallen, Mako took a deep breath and turned to move out of the alley. He stopped when he saw two black stilettos.
His eyes travelled up the stocking-clad legs, which were held up by black rhinestone garters. His golden orbs continued up the black corset, the long column of the person's neck, to the electrifying blue eyes.
The young woman smirked and slowly walked to the detective, her hips hypnotizing the man.
"Well, Detective, what would you be doing in parts like these?"
Her blank face hid the excitement she got from the man in the trench coat.
Despite all his training, the man in question couldn't keep his composure. His face reddened that the sight of the only woman he found attractive and at the thought that he got caught.
When the closest thing she got to a response were incomprehensible, "Uhh's" and lots of fidgeting, the young woman moved closer to the detective.
The lady smirked and placed her lips by the detective's ear, one hand pressing onto his chest and another clutching his hand.
"If you ever want to meet me again, make sure you have your questions ready. I'll be waiting."
The young woman lowered herself off of the flustered detective, spun on her heel, and sauntered off, her hips pulling Mako into a trance.
When the dancer walked out of the alley way, Mako finally found the strength to breathe. Regaining his composure, Mako quickly and quietly made his way out of the dark alley. He realized that in the hand she held, which still tingled from her touch, was a piece of paper. Written on it in black ink was a number and a message.
Call me
-Korra
Wasn't that lovely? It's the closest I've ever got to writing something sexy (and probably ever will).
Oh! The fic is based off a commercial. Can you figure out which one? Hint: look at the title