Introducing An Apprentice Incubus (m) — Extended

Darith watched from the corner of the dream, invisible, and said nothing.

It was the most boring pickup line in human history. In any history. Leo felt his face heat—did incubi blush? They did now—and waited for the dream to reject him, to spit him back out into the void between consciousnesses.

Leo sat down. And for the first time all night, he stopped trying to be an incubus. He just talked to her. About her book (she wasn’t actually reading it, she confessed, because she’d been thinking about whether her cat missed her while she was at work). About the coffee (too hot, always, but in a comforting way). About nothing, really. Small things. Human things. introducing an apprentice incubus (m)

“Well?” he asked.

“Hi,” he said. And then, because his brain blanked entirely: “Is that chair taken?” Darith watched from the corner of the dream,

Leo had practiced the form for hours. Tall, but not threatening. Good jawline, kind eyes, a smile that suggested he found her fascinating. He’d rehearsed his opening line in the mirror of his tiny studio apartment until his roommate banged on the wall and told him to shut up.

“I don’t know her,” Leo said.

But Amy smiled. A small, surprised smile, like she hadn’t expected anyone to notice her.