She notices him from across the room, drink in hand, staring at the stage like he's waiting. She notices his spread legs, smirks, and dances her way over to him, her hips swinging to the deep beat of the song. Her skin tingles from the heat, her blood seeming to burn beneath her skin, but she feels so cold at the same time. She runs a hand through her red hair before tossing it over her shoulder. It sticks to her skin a little. She really should've tied it up.
"Need to get something off your mind?"
He looks up at her beneath heavy lidded eyes, and there's something in his stare that sends shivers up her spine. She leans over him, wraps her arms around his neck, and tangles her fingers in his rough, seaweed colored hair. It vaguely reminds her of the algea in her sister Nojiko's aquarium.
She rolls her hips and nothing.
"I not your type?" She hums, like it's never happened before- usually, it doesn't.
"Not by a longshot," He looks over his shoulders as she continues to dance, her skin inches from his tongue, "I prefer them a little more," He looks away, "Masculine."
"Masculine?"
"Blond hair, blue eyes, a little something more in the pants area. The kind that could probably break bones with a kick."
His eyes slide shut, imagining a different body moving over his, a smooth, deep voice whispering in his ear. Except, it's not.
"That your type?"
He grunts, "Yes."
She leans in, whispers in his ear, "Really now?" When she notices he has his hands pressed hard against the chair, she lifts them to rest on her hips, "Tell me about him."
He murmurs, "He pisses me off," Under his breath, inches from her writhing skin, "He finds every way to get under my skin, and I do anything I can to make him look at me."
"Does he?" She hums, undulating her hips.
"He usually kicks me," He grins, "But at least it's something."
She finds herself smiling, "Have you told him?"
He finds himself laughing, a low throaty rasp, "He'd light a cigarette and then break my ribs."