A Demon's Tale, Part 3

So all this rambling is really just a lead up to where I am now. It's been over five hundred years since I was forced to live on Earth. Nations have risen and fallen. I've been a bystander to most of it. My instincts told me to be in the middle of it, of course, but nothing in my heart would let me. I spent most of those centuries paralyzed to act in any way, fearful of the damage I might cause.

Thus leading to my current state: lonely, horny as hell (ha!), and pretending to get drunk in an empty bar. Pining to the bartender, no less. I'd be a cliché if it weren't the “reformed succubus” thing I've got going on. It's not the first time I've vented my issues to a human. I've found if they think you're drunk, they just smile and nod and ignore whatever you're saying. It is, however, the first time I've been to a bar and given serious considering gaze to the bouncer.

I was female for the evening – my common preference, these days – and he definitely made eyes on me on the way in. Gentlemanly ones, though, and his words were nothing but polite. Hell, even his surface thoughts were quiet and kind. I've never overheard anyone using poetic language in their own head to describe me. Certainly not what I would expect from such a huge man, especially with his background. It goes to show, no matter how old you are, people can still surprise you.

As the bartender lost interest, clearly cleaning up and waiting for his last customer to leave so he could close early, I started pondering the bouncer – Tim – again. He was lonely and sweet. He was big enough that I was very unlikely to hurt him unless I grew truly careless. And it had been a very, very long time for me. Believe me when I say that being cast from my birthplace did nothing to reduce the desires imprinted onto my soul.

Didn't I deserve to be happy at least once in a while? I pondered that question for much of the evening, staring at myself in the bar's mirror. It wasn't until the bartender vanished into the back to call me a taxi that I made up my mind.

Maybe I could make up for some of the pain I'd caused. At least tonight. And at least for one person.