Especially from the dragon at the back. The one that comes every single night you are on shift and asks for the same salmon with veggies and a glass of your finest wine. He spends hours just staring at you, talking to you in your break and pretty much making you feel like you are the most special girl in the world. And he always leaves a tip so big he can solve your rent in only one night. You have a bit of a crush on the dragon. Or more like a big, big crush.

But one night he doesn't show up. You are kind of worried, but mostly annoyed that your best customer and the one that always makes your night a bit brighter is not there. The night is a disaster, and your tips end up being shitty because you aren't as bubbly as other nights. You walk home that night feeling awful, your whole body tired and your heart feeling too heavy.

Just to stop dead in your tracks when you spy a big figure sitting in front of your apartment. A very recognizable figure. Are you in danger? Do you need to call the police? You try to think of all the ways things could go wrong, but you are too slow. He turns towards you and stares, a big smirk stretching his dragon features, his fangs shiny under the moonlight. You are about to run when he opens his mouth: "about time, darling. I have a different kind of tip for you tonight."

To feel you.

If you're sitting together and he can't pull your shirt just far enough away for his thumb to pass over your skin, he'll slip a few fingers in that little gap between the buttons of your shirt.

You wear his flannels a lot, which he loves just that little bit more at times like this.

He's not pawing at you or making you feel uncomfortable, it's just enough for his fingertips to graze across your abdomen, hard callouses against soft skin.

It's grounding, for both of you. The warmth of each other solidifying that you are here, you did make it back from the hunt.