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Description
(commissioned by brilliant www.deviantart.com/dimig89 )

The air crackled with a nervous thrill as I pushed through the pulsating throng on the dance floor. The flyer, clutched damply in my palm, promised an "Unforgettable Night" with a cartoon mouse in a top hat winking suggestively. Intrigued, I’d paid the burly bouncer and plunged into the throbbing heart of the club.
Scanning the room, a flash of white caught my eye nestled in a plush corner booth. Unlike the other patrons, a vision in a form-fitting burgundy dress that stopped just above impossibly toned knees, she couldn't have been more than four feet tall. Her crowning glory, however, was a cascade of white fur that shimmered like moonlight and a pair of eyes that shone an impossible shade of sky blue. They were locked on me, glinting with amusement that sent a jolt straight down my core.
This had to be Trixi. Whispers of the mousegirl trickster had swirled around the city for weeks, tales of illusions and stolen hearts whispered in hushed tones at speakeasies and backroom poker games. A potent mix of curiosity and something far more primal propelled me towards her booth.
As I approached, the music seemed to dim, the swirling bodies around me fading into a rhythmic blur. Her gaze met mine, a predatory smile tugging at the corners of her impossibly small mouth. "Lost, are we?" she purred, her voice a melodic chime that sent shivers erupting across my skin.
"Not exactly," I replied, the air thickening with unspoken possibilities. "I saw your flyer. Looking for an unforgettable night?"
A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. "Depends," she drawled, extending a hand impossibly small and pale. "Can you handle a little magic?"
The next few hours were a whirlwind. Trixi was a captivating storyteller, weaving tales of fantastical creatures and hidden worlds, her voice weaving a spell that left me breathless. With a flick of her wrist, she'd make coins vanish and reappear between my fingers, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes as my mind reeled. Was it sleight of hand, or something more? A delicious uncertainty hung heavy in the air.
As the night wore on, the club emptied, the pulsing music replaced by the murmur of closing time announcements. We were left alone, bathed in the soft glow of the bar lights. Trixi leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with an invitation I couldn't ignore. "Ready for something truly unforgettable?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.
Heat flared in my lower abdomen, a primal response to her nearness. This wasn't the safe, predictable world I knew. This was Trixi's world, a world of secrets and whispered promises, and for a reason I couldn't explain, I craved to be a part of it.
Just as I leaned in to answer, a harsh voice shattered the moment. The bouncer, his face etched with suspicion, loomed over our booth. "Last call," he grunted.
Trixi's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something akin to sadness crossing her features. Then, with a wink and a muttered phrase that sent shivers down my spine, she vanished into thin air. One moment she was there, the next, the booth was empty.
The bouncer grunted again, his gaze lingering on the empty space. "Leaving so soon?" he rumbled.
I shook my head, the remnants of her magic clinging to the air like an aphrodisiac. "Just… needed some fresh air."
Stepping out into the cool night, I scanned the street, searching for any sign of the white fur and sky blue eyes. But Trixi was gone, as if she'd never existed. Was it all a dream, a figment of the night's intoxication?
In my hand, I clutched a single white feather, the only evidence of the unforgettable night I'd spent with the mousegirl trickster. The memory of Trixi, both exhilarating and unsettling, lingered with me long after the last embers of night had faded. The world, I realized, was a stranger place than I'd ever imagined, and a part of me, a part I hadn't known existed, craved another encounter with the magic and mystery that surrounded the mousegirl trickster.

Description
(commissioned by brilliant www.deviantart.com/dimig89 )

The air crackled with a nervous thrill as I pushed through the pulsating throng on the dance floor. The flyer, clutched damply in my palm, promised an "Unforgettable Night" with a cartoon mouse in a top hat winking suggestively. Intrigued, I’d paid the burly bouncer and plunged into the throbbing heart of the club.
Scanning the room, a flash of white caught my eye nestled in a plush corner booth. Unlike the other patrons, a vision in a form-fitting burgundy dress that stopped just above impossibly toned knees, she couldn't have been more than four feet tall. Her crowning glory, however, was a cascade of white fur that shimmered like moonlight and a pair of eyes that shone an impossible shade of sky blue. They were locked on me, glinting with amusement that sent a jolt straight down my core.
This had to be Trixi. Whispers of the mousegirl trickster had swirled around the city for weeks, tales of illusions and stolen hearts whispered in hushed tones at speakeasies and backroom poker games. A potent mix of curiosity and something far more primal propelled me towards her booth.
As I approached, the music seemed to dim, the swirling bodies around me fading into a rhythmic blur. Her gaze met mine, a predatory smile tugging at the corners of her impossibly small mouth. "Lost, are we?" she purred, her voice a melodic chime that sent shivers erupting across my skin.
"Not exactly," I replied, the air thickening with unspoken possibilities. "I saw your flyer. Looking for an unforgettable night?"
A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. "Depends," she drawled, extending a hand impossibly small and pale. "Can you handle a little magic?"
The next few hours were a whirlwind. Trixi was a captivating storyteller, weaving tales of fantastical creatures and hidden worlds, her voice weaving a spell that left me breathless. With a flick of her wrist, she'd make coins vanish and reappear between my fingers, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes as my mind reeled. Was it sleight of hand, or something more? A delicious uncertainty hung heavy in the air.
As the night wore on, the club emptied, the pulsing music replaced by the murmur of closing time announcements. We were left alone, bathed in the soft glow of the bar lights. Trixi leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with an invitation I couldn't ignore. "Ready for something truly unforgettable?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.
Heat flared in my lower abdomen, a primal response to her nearness. This wasn't the safe, predictable world I knew. This was Trixi's world, a world of secrets and whispered promises, and for a reason I couldn't explain, I craved to be a part of it.
Just as I leaned in to answer, a harsh voice shattered the moment. The bouncer, his face etched with suspicion, loomed over our booth. "Last call," he grunted.
Trixi's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something akin to sadness crossing her features. Then, with a wink and a muttered phrase that sent shivers down my spine, she vanished into thin air. One moment she was there, the next, the booth was empty.
The bouncer grunted again, his gaze lingering on the empty space. "Leaving so soon?" he rumbled.
I shook my head, the remnants of her magic clinging to the air like an aphrodisiac. "Just… needed some fresh air."
Stepping out into the cool night, I scanned the street, searching for any sign of the white fur and sky blue eyes. But Trixi was gone, as if she'd never existed. Was it all a dream, a figment of the night's intoxication?
In my hand, I clutched a single white feather, the only evidence of the unforgettable night I'd spent with the mousegirl trickster. The memory of Trixi, both exhilarating and unsettling, lingered with me long after the last embers of night had faded. The world, I realized, was a stranger place than I'd ever imagined, and a part of me, a part I hadn't known existed, craved another encounter with the magic and mystery that surrounded the mousegirl trickster.