I stood, scrounging up a smirk from somewhere deep within the bubbling turmoil of my abdomen, and scooped up our wines, approaching her.

“His use of recycled materials, paint, and flame to create these … these nightmarish landscapes, is truly inspired. It speaks of the ruination of nature through the consumerism of humankind.” She turned to me, her smile wide, excited, two spots of colour high on her pretty cheeks. I handed her a glass, letting my fingers linger on hers for longer than was necessary.

She was so passionate, it was intoxicating.

“I’ll admit I’ve not heard of him,” I murmured, turning to the piece. It was large and angry-looking, with bubbling paint in red and black, like blisters across the surface. I swallowed. “It reminds me a bit of home.”

“Why do you sound so sad when you say that?”

I took a sip of my wine, thinking furiously. How to answer? Was there really any point in baring parts of myself to her? When she would only hate me once this was over. And resent me until her death, and then curse me for all eternity.

But I wanted to give her honesty. I craved that with her. Why? That was a conundrum for another time. But for now, I would bare a little of me to her.

“I never knew anything but the caverns of Hell, until I … until I came to the Human Realm to seek a … what did you call yourself?” I chuckled mirthlessly. “An ‘infernal guinea pig’?”

I took another drink, eyeing her surreptitiously over the top of my glass. She hadn’t touched her wine. She was watching me intently, expectantly. She wanted to know more. She was … interested in me.

“It’s a case of not knowing what one is missing,” I explained, “until one sees the world outside of one’s four walls, I suppose.”

I took another sip as she regarded me. The corners of her lips softened. My stomach tingled.

“Don’t get me wrong … I’m seriously pissed at you for tricking me into this whole FiendPay thing.” Her finger toyed with the rim of her wine glass. “But I can’t blame you for feeling … stifled … down there, wherever it is. My God, it was so hot, SJ! I think I produced a gallon of sweat in five minutes!”

And suddenly I was thinking of her … naked, sheened in sweat … her head thrown back in pleasure as I …

I drained my wine, gesturing to her glass. “You must drink. This is a ‘date’ after all.”

She smirked into her glass, taking a sip. Her eyes found mine, and her lashes fluttered. My stomach fluttered in response.

“You are not wearing your spectacles!”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, shrugging. “I always wear contacts when I …” she darted her eyes to mine, then away again.

“When you what, Mouse?”

Her smirk widened. “When I want to impress a man on a date.”