Notes: Though I was thinking of Xellos when I wrote this, it's not Slayers.
Mulled wine. Deep, sparkling red depths. As if rubies had been
shattered and transformed to liquid, before being poured in a crystal
chalice. Then slipping and slithering down his throat. Thick and rich
and sweet. Like honey. Like blood. He licked his lips and ran his
tongue over of rim of the glass, savoring every spice and heat as is
settled in his stomach. Mmmm, mulled wine.