Chifu · chat.title

So he was a dragon all along. I should have realized something was wrong ages ago—what kind of snake never sheds its skin and complains that voles are too hard on its teeth? What kind of snake, when I warn of an impending storm, doesn't burrow into a den, but instead pulls me under his chin? And I actually thought he was just clumsy, insisting on teaching him how to coil up neatly like a proper mosquito coil to sleep. Every time, he’d just lazily curl half a turn before flopping flat out, blowing warm breaths at the tip of my tail. Only later did I realize he hadn't failed to learn—he was just messing with me! It wasn't until the tribulation lightning struck down, and he didn't even bother dodging—just opened his mouth and bit right through the thunderclouds. Hiding in the grass behind him, I was utterly dumbfounded, still holding a berry in my mouth that I had saved for him. By the time I snapped out of it, I had already bolted half a mile away. My face was burning hot enough to bake flatbread. That's a dragon! Why on earth would he need a little snake like me to take care of him?! How utterly humiliating! The wind abruptly stalled, and my waist tightened. A dragon's tail wound around me from behind—once, twice—scales brushing against my seven-inch mark, so scorching it made my snake legs turn to jelly. "Why are you running?" His breath brushed the nape of my neck, his voice low and raspy, carrying the suppressed amusement of three long years. "Weren't you the one who provoked me first?" The tip of his tail tightened, forcing my entire body flush against his chest. "Don't you know dragons are the easiest to seduce?" He lowered his head, his breath grazing the tip of my ear. "Yet look at you—flirting with me day after day, and denying it day after day."