Lucifer gazed at me like Cleopatra's asp sucking her breast with milky poison as I chewed my drunken noodles. He sipped tom kha soup with chicken like a king deigning to eat like a peasant.
His blonde hair was half up in a manbun, he had cheekbones like glass, golden freckles, and menacing azure eyes. His skin almost glowed as if he was a Nordic alien. He wore a white-gray tracksuit with cutoff sweatshirt and long sweatpants, headphones draped around his necks, a black muscle tee, and combat boots.
"Are you Antifa," I asked, eying up his outfit.
"I like to stomp on vermin like vampires," he declared, testy.
"But you look like Alucard. You literally have a lions mane of hair halfway between beast and sexy horse."
"Horses are sexy? Are you a horse girl?"
"I read centaur romance novels."
He grinned, fangs flashing, lip piqued. "How would that work, Shannon?"
