Obsessions
It’s a couple seconds later that Drake emerges from the kitchen. In one hand, he’s carrying a dark colored mug with a string and a tag for a tea bag hanging out of it, in the other, he’s carrying a beer. Great. Now we’re adding alcohol. Because conversations about s*x aren’t awkward enough when you’re thinking clearly with your inhibitions intact. It’s as I’m mentally chastising myself that I realize the hand holding my mug is glowing—he’s using dragon magic to heat the water. I’d laugh if I didn’t think I was rewarding him for showing off. Instead, I pose the question. “Outside, you said I was causing the storm. How come I do that and you—ignite stuff?” “That’s actually something you’d learn at the island—.” “Wait— does this place have a name?” Drake extends the handle of the now
- Writer
