The Bug's Palace

The bar was pretty busy tonight. Not that | usually came that often anyway. It was just your basic dive bar, the staff was pretty nice despite the shit I see them go through. I swirl my drink around before taking a long sip; still scanning the room. I hear the door open and I turn my head to face the door. In walks a green hedgehog with red sunglasses, a leather jacket, messy quills, and two distinct scars across his chest. It seemed he made no attempt to hide them. Worst of all he had this cocky confidence to him- like he thought he owned the place. As I analyzed him I noticed that he was going the same thing. Our gazes' meet and I immediately look away thinking “please don't come over here, please don't come over here." But by that point it was already too late. He made his way over to me and sat down on the bar stool beside mine. "What's a pretty gal like you doing here all alone?" He asked after flagging down the bartender and ordering a beer. "Why do you care?" I ask in response to his obvious flirting. "Aren't you scared of being alone? Aren't most girls scared of getting hurt or some shit when they're alone?" He asks with an almost teasing tone in his voice. "I think the most predatory thing l've seen today is you." I take a long drink from my glass and he seems to do the same. "The name's scourge." He tells me, looking at me expectingly as if waiting for me to tell him my name as well. "I'm Nyx" I reply flatly, it was probably best not to give this guy the time of day. He takes my response as an invitation to start talking about himself, thankfully I had tuned him out by the third sentence. “I hate guys like this, why can’t he-“ but I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts “but you? You’re a hot piece of ass.” “Excuse me?” I say, not letting him finish what he was saying. He leans in closer to me, so close I could smell him. He smelled of beer and cigarette ash. “What, doll face, can’t take a compliment?” I scowl at his teasing looking as if I was about to punch him, which if Hysteria was here, probably would have happened when he first walked over. “What? Not gonna speak to me now? Did I hurt your feelings?” After a few more moments of me not speaking to him he continues, “how about I buy you a drink? What did you get?” After a few moments of hesitation I agree “I’m having whisky, neat.” he orders me another drink and we “chat” for a while longer, although it’s more him talking than me. After a couple of hours I decide it’s time for me to go home, and he insists upon walking me home. Almost immediately after we left the bar he lights up a cigarette and brings it to his lips. “y’know that shit is gonna kill you right?” He takes a long drag and blows the smoke directly in my face, “eh it’s better to die young and hot than old and bitter.” We eventually got to my house and I offered for him to stay, since he was obviously too incapacitated to go anywhere on his own. He didn’t need to be asked twice before sauntering into my house. The next morning he is no where to be seen, but it did seem that he left his cell- phone number on a napkin on my bedside table.