Spawn Of The Vampire(5)

By: Samantha Snow

“Thank you,” she said, with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Very modest of you,” he joked.

She laughed at that and as she looked at him with a shrug. “I’m modest,” she said, looking around the room at all the other women who were present, clearly more comfortable with themselves than she was.

He smiled at that and she knew he was playing with her. She knew that he was having a good fun, laugh at her and all she could think about was that she wanted more of this than he realized. He was calling to her.

“What about you? What made you interested in talking to me?” She changed the topic, pressing him.

“Honestly? It was your fiery, red hair. I’ve never seen hair like it before. You wear it so proudly in a world where red hair is foolishly looked down upon. I’ve never understood why people bash it so much.”

Shawna had gained her tough skin when she was a teenager at the height of Ginger-Hate that was spreading across the country because of YouTube videos and other similar phenomena. However, as she grew older, more and more women voiced their envy for her fiery locks. It was good to have someone interested in it in an alluring sense. It was nice to have someone interested in her, period.

“So where are you from?” she asked him with a coy and kind smile on her lips, looking to know more about this mysterious man that had just entered her life.

“Not from around here,” he said with a kind of boast that made her wonder what that meant. Did he meaning that he wasn’t from this neighborhood? This borough? This city? Was he not even from this country? She didn’t know what that meant and it was so enigmatic, she couldn’t help but feel completely entranced by it.

She wanted to ask him more about it, but something told her that she should hold back and revisit it at a later time. If he didn’t want to talk about it right now, then she shouldn’t push him about it. She shouldn’t dig in deep and demand to know more from him. That was just rude and more than she should hope to push for. She took a deep breath and looked out at the dance floor, wondering where this night was going to lead her.

“You like to dance?” he asked her, following her eyes out to the dance floor. She wasn’t sure how to answer that. Yeah, she did like dancing, but she never really did it in public. She wasn’t about dancing in front of people unless she was thoroughly intoxicated and had the courage to get other people out there with her so others wouldn’t think she was a lone psycho on the dance floor.

“I do,” she said, feeling that the scales were successfully tipping in that direction. “Do you like dancing?”

“I find it helpful,” he said honestly.

“For what?”

“Finding out the truth about someone’s intentions,” he said with a grin on his lips.

She wanted to know more and he knew that she wanted to know more. It was an unfair advantage he seemed to have with all of this deep insight that she didn’t have. It was like she was playing against someone in a different league.

“You see, dancing tells you exactly what the other person wants from you. You can find out if they’re holding back and if they’re suspicious of you or you could find out whether or not they’re interested in you and want to know more about you. You can tell all of their intentions just by the way they’re dancing.”

“You could just ask them,” she said, picking up on the subtle hints that he was dropping for her. Yeah, she was picking them up and she was more than willing to play but she didn’t like games. She liked the more direct and dangerous approach that he had been taking. Having someone bold in her life was refreshing. It was something that she was more than willing to explore.

“I suppose that I could just ask them,” he said with a smile. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s only fun for you,” she assured him, seeing right through his ploy and attacking it. “It’s not fun if you don’t know you’re playing. It’s not fair either. If it’s not fair I’d say that it’s cheating.”

“That’s a rather bold accusation,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Do you think I’m playing to win?”

“Absolutely,” she said knowingly. She knew for a fact that he was here to win, but she didn’t know what winning meant to him. She wanted to know more. “But what’s at stake?”

“You,” he said with a smile on his face. “I really like you, Shawna. Do you want to play the game where we beat around the bush, dancing around our intentions, or are you a bolder and direct woman? From what I’ve seen, you strike me as a particularly brave and daring individual. I’d like to know how I should proceed. I can do either if you’d like, but I think you know which one I’d favor.”