The Dragon on Her Arm

The dragon stretched when Marcus reached for the bread basket.

Elise watched his hand freeze mid-reach, eyes locked on her forearm where the serpentine creature had shifted from its usual coil around her wrist to a defensive pose, tiny wings flared, smoke curling from nostrils no bigger than pinpricks.

“It moved.” His voice cracked.

“She. And yes.” Elise buttered her roll like nothing had happened. First dates were always like this. The ones who made it to date two were rare. Date three was practically mythical.

“Tattoos don’t…”

“Most don’t.” She took a bite, chewed, swallowed. Gave him time to process. The dragon settled slightly, still watching Marcus with eyes like drops of molten copper. “Mira’s protective. She doesn’t like sudden movements.”

Marcus hadn’t blinked in thirty seconds. Elise counted. She’d gotten good at counting.

“How?”

“Found a shop in Prague. Down an alley that isn’t always there. The artist said she picks the design, not the client.” Elise traced a finger along Mira’s spine. The dragon arched into the touch like a cat. “I asked for a butterfly.”

“And you got a dragon.”

“I got what I needed, apparently.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “My ex had a temper. Mira bit him on our last date. Drew blood. He told people I stabbed him with a fork.”

Marcus looked at the fork in his hand. Set it down carefully.

“She’s a good judge of character.” Elise watched Mira watching Marcus. The dragon’s wings had lowered. Her tail swished in lazy loops around Elise’s wrist. “If it helps, she hasn’t hissed at you yet.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.”

The waiter appeared, notepad ready. His eyes flicked to Elise’s arm and away again with practiced disinterest. A regular. She appreciated professionals.

“Ready to order?”

Marcus stared at the menu like it contained instructions for defusing a bomb. Mira had settled back into her coil, though one eye remained fixed on him.

“Another minute.” Elise sipped her wine. “Maybe five.”

The waiter retreated. Marcus’s hands were flat on the table, deliberately still. Smart man.

“Look,” he said slowly, “I want to be cool about this. I do. But I need you to understand that I’m questioning every decision that led me to this restaurant.”

“Fair.”

“My sister set us up. She said you were ‘interesting.'” He laughed, slightly unhinged. “I thought she meant you’d hobbies.”

“I do have hobbies. Mira likes museums. Hates loud bars.” Elise leaned forward. Marcus leaned back the same distance. “Here’s the thing. You can leave. I won’t blame you. Most people do. But I’ve had this dragon for three years, and she’s never been wrong about someone.”

“Wrong how?”

“She bit my ex. Hissed at my boss the day before he got arrested for embezzlement. Set a man’s sleeve on fire at a coffee shop. Two weeks later he was on the news for a string of burglaries.”

Marcus processed this. Looked at Mira. Looked at Elise.

“She hasn’t done any of that to me.”

“No.”

He picked up his menu. His hands were steadier. “What’s good here?”

Mira’s tail flicked twice, and she tucked her head beneath one wing. Elise felt something loosen in her chest.

“The salmon’s excellent. And Marcus?”

“Yeah?”

“She just closed her eyes. That’s a first.”

He smiled. Shaky, uncertain, genuine. “Then I guess I’m ordering the salmon.”