He walked into the room to an audible gasp from all who were gathered; his tight-fitting leathers a stark contrast to the evening dresses and tuxedos worn by the customers sitting at the tables. The redhead stood at the bar, her back to him, and although he couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror, he knew she had seen him. He walked over to where she stood, and having already brought attention to himself, he decided to take a more subtle approach. He whispered in her ear, “Perfect timing for a surrender, don’t you think?”
As she smiled, she surreptitiously slipped manicured nails into a small clutch bag, which were swiftly stopped as he firmly grabbed her wrist.
“There’s no escape this time,” he said, as his deep blue eyes locked onto her pale green ones, “all of the exits are covered, and we’re in a crowded place.”
Posted for Six Sentence Stories. Denise’s prompt word for this week is ‘Perfect‘.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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