Writing Prompt Wednesday 11/20

 Today's #writngpromptwednesday image came from @andrewtneel via @pexels . I get really excited when I see a picture and a scene immediately pops up in my mind. For this one, I saw a woman touching that glass, feeling the cold of it and thinking about the bad news she'd just received. Was she upset? Was it expected?  What scene comes to mind when you look at this picture?

 

While the scene unfolded instantly, it did take me a minute to figure out what flavor of paranormal I would go with, but when I did...whew. I am definitely putting this on the list for a full length. I want to explore this story and figure out the war between the dragons and storm gods. Mila and Tatsuo feel like they could be scorching on the page once I sit down and really flesh them out.

 

Anyways, that being said, below is my small snippet of their story. It's not really edited, and there is so much more I want to add and fill out for the story, but I like it so far.

 

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The glass was cold against her fingertips, the rapidly dropping temperature outside nearly matching the cold steadily freezing her insides. She’d waited too long for confrontations, for …closure…and now the chance was gone. Mila stared through the raindrops on the glass to the street below, wishing she was down there with people moving about their day. She could almost see inside the coffee shop across the street. Maybe she could go there once this meeting was done. It was one of the many meetings she’d had to endure since her grandmother had died. Her body tensed and the hair along her arms raised as she watched a man separate from the side of the building, angry hand movements at the pedestrian who had nearly bowled him over as they turned the corner. The dark rain slicker he wore had blended into the shadows under the awning where he stood so much so that she probably wouldn’t have seen him had he not moved. His head jerked upwards, his gaze seeming to zero in on her. He crossed his arms over his chest, emphasizing his slender frame. She stepped back from the window, pushing a shaking hand through her braids.

“Mila,” the lawyer called from behind her.

She cleared her throat, but gave herself a moment before she turned. She shook off her unease and gave her grandmother’s lawyer her complete attention. Sympathy was written across the older man’s face, the wrinkles around his mouth turned down as he studied her face.

“I know you and Ruby didn’t…” Mr. Henry sighed and shifted in his desk chair. “There are things that you should’ve been told. Things your grandmother took for granted that she’d have more time to impart.”

Mila scoffed. “Don’t say the psychic didn’t see her own death coming.”

His lips tightened, and anger momentarily crossed his face. “Arrangements have been made for you—”

“There is nothing of grandma’s that I want. I’ve managed just fine without her.” And if by managed she meant she never went more than two days without eating, it wasn’t his business.

As if on cue her stomach growled, an angry sound that reminded her that she’d spent the last of her money to come home and deal with Ruby’s estate.

“Be that as it may.” He picked up the phone on his desk and spoke into it softly.

Moments later, a smartly dressed younger woman entered the room with a tray of pastries and a kettle of steaming coffee. She set it on the small table across the room, sitting in front of a small love seat. The woman smiled and left as quickly as she’d entered. Mila made her way over and grabbed a cinnamon bun off the top, closing her eyes at the yummy smell.

“Thank you,” she muttered if somewhat reluctantly.

“I realize I’m putting you out and no doubt delaying your hasty exit from this town, but there are things you need to know.” Henry indicated that she retake her seat in front of him.

Grabbing one of the small plates, she stacked it high with pastries and wondered how she could sneak a few out without him noticing.

Mr. Henry put his elbows up on his desk and leaned forward. “I know you didn’t believe in your grandmother’s gift, Mila, but Ruby’s will must be executed.”

The food turned to ash in her mouth and she dropped the bun onto her plate. “Oh, was she sober enough to make a will?”

“Mila,” he growled.

“What? You’ve known me my whole life, Mr. Henry, do you expect me to be anything other than relieved that she can’t hurt me anymore?”

“Mila, I knew nothing of how Ruby treated you until you walked out of her house, never to be heard of again. I swear, had I known…”

“Be that as it may,” she sneered, giving him back his own words.

Mr. Henry sighed. “I failed you, yes.”

Silence fell between them, heavy, sickening. Mila put her pastries on the desk and sat back in the chair.

“Why did you hunt me down? I don’t care that she died.”

Except she did care. With Ruby gone, all the answers and memories of her parents died with her. Especially since her grandmother allowed neither picture nor even the most innocuous discussion about her mother—Ruby’s daughter— and the ‘fucking reptile’ she’d married. So Mila knew nothing about her parents, save their names.

“You’re in danger.”

Her heart skipped and the half of bun she’d eaten flipped in her stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“That power of your grandmother’s you scoffed at? It was the only thing keeping you protected from what’s going to hit your life.” He inclined his head towards the window to the street below.

“I don’t believe that.” She whispered, but her skin was heating and nerves danced up and down her body.

His face was somber. He believed what he was telling her.

“You’ve been my grandmother’s lawyer forever, surely you knew she was a fraud.”

He pushed back from the desk top and reached under his desk. He pulled out a thick file. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mila. I was never your grandmother’s lawyer. I’m yours.”

He slapped the file down on the desk. Pictures scattered from between the brown manila folder. She grabbed one as it slid towards her. It was a picture of two smiling people.  A beautiful woman with the same face as hers, and a handsome man looking down at the baby the woman was holding with enough love to seize her heart. Her hands started to shake, trembles that moved up her arm.

“Who are these people?”

“Your parents.”

Her...she sucked in a sharp breath, her throat closing as grief struck her. “You’ve had this stuff this whole time?”

He rubbed a hand across his face. “I wasn’t aware of the way Ruby was treating you. You were a quiet child. You hardly spoke during my visits and your grandmother was…difficult. It was a less than ideal situation, but she was the only one with power enough to cloak you.”

“Cloak me?” She frowned, still staring at her parents’ picture. She traced her mother’s happy face.

She brought her head up at his silence. His brows were furrowed, his gaze out the window behind him. She turned and winced at the sleet beating against the glass. Damn it, she would have to go back out in that.

“Mila,” he whispered. “In the next few minutes there will be things happening around you that you don’t understand, but I will need you to trust me.”

Full on hail slapped against the window. Mila jumped with every ping against the glass.

Mr. Henry shuffled the papers back into the folder and jerked open the drawer next to him. He pulled out a jewelry case and opened it with shaking hands. He pulled out a heavy signet ring and dark gold cuffs.

“Put these on, now!”

The storm outside was kicking up, and the panic in the lawyers eye’s had her stomach dancing. She did as she was told and fumbled with the ring until she found a finger it fit. It slid snug against her thumb. She barely managed to slap both cuffs on when his door slammed open. The man from the street below strode into the office. How she knew it was him, she’d never be certain, but she knew. Her body heated, her breath stalling. Now that six stories didn’t separate them, she got a better look at him. The black rain slicker he wore was buttoned all the way to his neck, but dark tattoos covered the exposed skin, reaching all the way up to his chin. His hair was black, parted in the middle, the front half of the wet strands falling around his face, the rest tied back in a ponytail. Dark inset eyes studied her, his full lips parting as though he himself was surprised. He paused only a second before moving aside and allowing another person into the room.

Behind him, a man, his face chiseled, handsome…cold, sauntered in. She looked down at the picture of her parents and swallowed a gasp. The man looked so similar to her father, from the narrow, almond shaped eyes, to the small, upturned nose. His hazel eyes speared Mila, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes tilting his full lips.

“Mila, the hybrid dragon,” the man purred.

“Isamu, we had an agreement.” Mr. Henry stood, and braced his hands on the top of his desk.

Isamu turned his attention from her to the lawyer. “A deal you broke, or else my niece would still be in Nara, where she belongs.”

Niece? Mila’s eyes ping ponged between the two men. She wanted answers, but more than anything she wanted to run. There was an intense amount of testosterone in the room, and her instincts were screaming for her to do what she did best and disappear. But… this man was claiming to be her family. Was it true? Was there some part of her parents still out there?

“I am a neutral party in all this—”

“You chose a side when you allowed the storm gods to hide her!” Isamu made a step closer to Mr. Henry.

He was stopped by a hand on the arm from his companion. Mila made the mistake of meeting the man’s eyes. Possessive and intense, his stare made her uncomfortable, but not in the way she was expecting. Instead of fear, there was a sense of anticipation.

“Let me go, Tatsuo.” Isamu demanded.

Tatsuo spoke, his deep voice filling the room, the lilting Japanese softly spoken, patient as he calmed down her…uncle? But, Tatsuo’s eyes never left Mila’s. He continued to watch her, his eyes tracing her face, taking in every detail. She squirmed in the chair and turned towards the window to break eye contact that was starting to feel a little too intimate. The hail was coming down harder, wind, tearing through the street, whipping through the tree tops below.

“It was her mother’s wish that she not be thrust in the middle of a war!” Mr. Henry snapped, slapping his hand down.

Mila flinched at the sound.

Isamu moved surged forward, held back by Tatsuo. “And do you think the storm gods give a fuck? They’ll take her and mold her for their own selfishness, leveling our cities until they are no more.”

Unable to take being in the dark a moment longer, Mila cleared her throat.

“What war?”

Their eyes swiveled to her, both men blinking as though just remembering she was in the room.

“You cannot have her,” Mr. Henry whispered.

“And you will no longer keep my betrothed from me.” In Tatsuo’s voice was a promise.

His pronouncement a shock that doused her and Mr. Henry both. They turned to each other, eyes wide, their mouths ajar. The lawyer’s face had gone ashen and he gripped the edge of his desk, falling heavily into his chair.

Intended?

What did that mean?

A gust of wind whistled outside, and the windows of Mr. Henry’s office shuddered.

“The storm gods have arrived, and I fear, Mila, I can be of no further help to you.” The lawyer whispered.