Hi everyone! Welcome to Tuesday Tales!
This week we’re with Apollo, Khalil and Deirdre in the next Gods of DC book (still untitled). This week is a picture prompt.
**Warning - There are adult situations and adult language.**
The water from a dozen pairs of soaked shoes sloshed and squeaked across the terminal floor. There was still noise and chaos from the frightened mortals panicking from the sudden freak storm outside. After the battle Deirdre just went through, she wasn’t up for it.
She glanced up at the airline poster on the wall, a plane sailing between white puffy clouds inviting travelers to buy tickets at low, low prices. She could really use a vacation right now after that shitshow. She would definitely have to change before she joined Apollo in his sports car in the sky. All this rainwater would ruin his leather.
She couldn’t shake what she saw during the fight when she stared up at the deep, dark eyes of that man dressed as a member of the ground crew. She drowned in them the night before as she lay between him and Apollo, their hard bodies pressed close to her as they caught their breath.
She shook her head to dispel the thought. It couldn’t be Khalil, could it? Why would he be there? Did he hear what was going on and came to help?
She huffed to herself. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. For the first time in her existence, she missed someone. When she saw him again, she would have to show him how much.
Her attention was pulled away by the feel of a hand taking hers captive and urging her to stop moving. Her gaze rose to find the band of characters huddled in a corner of the concourse. A couple were dressed in designer suits. A few wore jeans and t-shirts. One woman was in a dress military uniform. One guy was in board shorts.
A dark haired man with red tints glared daggers at her. Deirdre swallowed hard. She remembered him from somewhere. It couldn’t be...