When I entered the room, I groaned: the bookshelves were on their sides; pages were loose, torn and singed; the cauldrons were upended, staining the carpets with their last drops; and the curtains, along with the bed sheets and half of the chairs, were blackened masses. The acrid odour of smoke filled my nose; I waved my hand through the air, eyes stinging.

Purple and grinning, he sat on the bed’s edge. As I drew closer, he wagged his tail.

“I think you can count interior decorator out of your career options.”

His tail quickened. His yellow eyes gleamed. His scales flashed in the sun as he pawed at me. I took one clawed foot between my hands. He was of a size with a Great Dane; he even panted, tongue lolling out.

He winked. “Did you miss me?”

“I did. But the feeling evaporated. Like the scent of fire.”

He laughed, a sheepish sound. “I didn’t mean to. I was looking for my ball. You know, my stress ball? The one I like to chew?”

My eyebrows knitted together. “Why were you stressed?”

“I wasn’t! I’m not! But I wanted it just in case I got stressed. And then...I got stressed looking for it.”

I sighed.

“I’m really sorry. I can clean up.”

“You’re going to have to get an online job or something if this keeps up. I can’t afford to keep replacing all of this by myself.”

“I’m sorry.” He pouted. “But really, I’ll clean. I like cleaning!”

I crossed my arms.

There was a flash of blue fire, and a tall man stood before me. Purple hair tumbled into his eyes – they were as yellow as daffodils, playful and piercing. I blushed as he grinned at me. He ran a hand over his dark stomach.

“What?”

“You...need to get dressed.”

“Aw, come on. That’s what you like about me.”

I coughed.

“Clothes are so restricting.” He shook his head, eyes sad. He changed into a tie, a leather jacket and sweatpants. It wasn’t exactly high fashion, but my heart rate was slowing and my thoughts were coherent. Slowly, the fantasies receded.

“Say it.”

“Joey.”

“Go on.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re messy. You’re silly. You’re adorable. And you’re crazy. But...” My shoulders tensed. “I like that in you.”

“And you’re bossy, overly cautious, and too clean. But I like that in you, too.”

“You can’t be too clean.”

“Oh, some people are. I knew one guy who washed his hands so much they bled. And his living room furniture was all covered in plastic.”

My eyes narrowed. “Where are you meeting these people?”

“Oh, this was back in the 60’s, when I still thought it was okay to eat people.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I didn’t kill him, you know. I just took one of his feet. I checked on him two decades later, to make sure he was okay. He has a prosthetic now.”

I groaned.

“Relax. I stopped eating people whole in the 1900’s. Never cared much for maidens, anyways.” He winked at me.

“I’m flattered.” I motioned around the room. “Now, clean up.”

He zipped around the room, sweeping, scrubbing, and gathering; his motions were blurs, and stains seemed to melt on their own. He plastered the holes in the walls; he replaced the curtains; he glued the pages back in their books; and he swept up the ashes, humming under his breath.

“George?”

I glanced up. I was bent over a collection of charred rocks that had once been socks. “Joey?”

“You make me hot all over.”

I coughed a second time.

“You really should do something about that. It could just be allergies, but if you’ve got a lung infection-”

“I’m fine.” There was a part of me which wanted to reply that he set me on fire. I mean, he’s a dragon. I touched my cheek. And I am burning up. However, I decided the comment would be more cringy than clever. I’m not going to stoop to his level.

Joey sang a Christmas song under his breath.

“Stop it. It’s October.”

“Huh?” He glanced up, blinking. “But I thought Christmas was next month.”

“No, it’s not.”

“But there’s the big dinner and the turkey...”

I snorted. “You’re thinking of Thanksgiving.”

“That’s in November, then?”

“No.”

Joey stomped his foot, face crumpling. “Now I’m really confused!”

“You live in Canada now. Don’t worry about it.” I scooped up a pile of shirts. They weren’t blackened, but one sniff told me they were history.

“Canada?”

I tossed the shirts into the hall. “Yeah, we move our holidays to different months, we wear t-shirts in the snow, and we add the letter ‘u’ to our words just because. We’re funny like that.”

“You’re insane, I say. Why would you add an extra letter to your words?”

I shrugged. “It just looks good.”

“That can’t be the reason.”

“I know, but it’s the reason I like best.” I grinned. “Who else would you love, but a beaver hugging bacon addict?”

“I do like bacon.” He drifted towards me. We stood inches apart. “And those fries with the gravy all over them?”

“That’s poutine.”

“I think you need to cook something for me.” He stroked my face. “I’m really confused. I don’t know if I’m hungry or hor-”

I kissed him. We collapsed on to the bed. He smelled of blueberries. It didn’t make sense for a dragon to smell like fruit...but then, nothing about this made sense. He wrapped his arms around me. I set my head on his shoulder, heart thrumming.

“I never thought it would be a dragon.”

“More of a vampire guy, huh?”

“You’ve got me there.” I chuckled. “All the books talk about elves, vampires, even werewolves...but not this.”

“Maybe dragons are the next fad.”

“Maybe they are.” I pecked his cheek. My stomach growled. “Can we postpone this? I’m sort of starving.”

“Bacon?” His eyes glowed.

“Absolutely.”

We slid off the bed together.

“And apple pie?”

“That’s not a Canadian dish.” I shrugged. “But I’ll try my best.”

We shared another kiss, a long one, before breaking apart. Hand in hand, we drifted down to the kitchen.