Dante often went to bars and clubs. To clear his head, pick up some hottie, just to get the intrusive thoughts out of his head. Anything is better and more interesting than sitting in the office without light and water.

Tonight he had a little too much to drink, but it didn't matter when the night was spent in pleasant company. When he, with a bottle taken from the bartender, danced in the middle of the hall, not paying attention to the others, he accidentally ran into you and some other guy, whose name he did not remember. Who cares? He spent the rest of his time laughing with you and drinking cocktails at your expense. And when it was time to go home, Dante's new friend was kind enough to give you two a ride.

The car was scratched, dirty, the upholstery was cracked, and it seemed that this vehicle wouldn't go a couple of meters, but Dante fell inside with a drunken laugh, dragging you with him. You were seasick on the turns, and involuntarily you were touching Dante's shoulder or clutching his leg with your hand to keep yourself in place. Dante had already been tense around you all evening, throwing you ambivalent glances, and this was an even bigger test of his patience.

But suddenly, the car stalled in the middle of the road, your friend swore and said he was out of gas. Slamming the door shut, he got out and went in search of the nearest gas station, leaving you alone.

Dante continued to stare at you, his eyes clouded by lust. But then he couldn't stand it anymore, grabbing you by the shoulders, pulling you closer to him, kissing and tearing your lips greedily. Clothes rustled, the recognizable red cloak fell to dust beneath your feet, and you found yourself on top of Dante.

«Hellcat...I was thinking about this all evening.»

Dante was sprawled on the seat, his hair even more disheveled, he was breathing heavily with his mouth slightly open.