Текст книги "Berries and Greed"

Автор книги: Lily Mayne

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Greid

Sleeping curled up with Beryl was way better than passing out stoned. Way, way better.

When I blinked my eyes open the next morning, the TV was still on, showing a rerun of some house-hunting show from about ten years ago. We’d ended up watching late-night infomercials for a while, with Beryl teasingly asking if I’d bought each product that came on and me gruffly admitting that I had.

She was curled up behind me on the couch, a knee tucked between my thighs and her arm wound around my waist under the blankets. I could feel her face buried in the back of my onesie’s hood and her steady breaths told me she was still asleep.

My chest went all hot and tight, and as I remembered what had happened, my morning wood grew about fifty times harder. Thank fuck she was spooning me and not the other way around.

I let out a quiet, shaky breath as I replayed what had happened, which didn’t help the boner situation. When she’d pinned my wrists down, I’d just… That had been it. Heat had rushed through every inch of me, my prick immediately waking up and nudging its way out of my sweats. I would have done literally anything she told me to in that moment.

I still hadn’t really been able to feel her. Just her soft mouth and warm tongue and the heat between her legs as she rubbed against me. My cock pulsed in my sweats, once again trapped beneath layers of fabric. Although, that had probably been a good thing at the time. If she’d slid any higher…

Worry replaced all the pleasurable feelings and memories in an instant. If we were going to… How was that going to work? As my mother had so embarrassingly put it, I was a “fully formed” biological demiurgus male. My dick could not go anywhere near Beryl’s bare skin. Or… any deeper.

God, I was not looking forward to that conversation. Unless Beryl woke up and had changed her mind. Then we wouldn’t even need to have it. She might wake up and be horrified by what she’d done. She might gag and say she needed to brush her teeth because my tongue had been in her mouth. She might get up and pack her bags and leave.

Despite my worry over how a sexual relationship could actually work between us, the thought of her regretting it or moving out kind of made me want to cry. I wanted to spin around and bury myself against her and beg her not to leave me. But of course I wouldn’t. Beryl could do what she wanted, and I wasn’t going to be the pathetic mess that guilted her into staying.

I am absolutely that pathetic mess, I thought, but steeled my resolve. No. I didn’t want any kind of pity relationship from Beryl.

But if she did still want to see what could happen… If we decided to… I let out a shuddering breath. God, the thought of being able to curl myself around her and cling on as we watched TV in the evenings. Being able to bury my face in her neck or her hair and breathe her in. Being able to kiss her. I wanted it so much my chest ached.

Fuck, my emotions were all over the place and I’d only been awake ten minutes. I needed a fat joint. And some breakfast. I needed Beryl to wake the fuck up so I could gauge her mood and react accordingly.

If she didn’t mention what had happened, I wouldn’t either. I’d let her take the lead. God, yes, please take the lead, Beryl. Tell me what to do.

Ears fluttering, I jumped when I felt Beryl stir behind me. She smacked her lips, rubbing her nose against the back of my head as she stretched. I tensed but didn’t move. She’d drowsily told me last night before falling asleep that I was keeping her belly warm, so I didn’t want to move away from her in case her cramps were bad again this morning.

Sure, Greid, you’re staying where you are for entirely selfless reasons. Asswipe.

“Morning,” she croaked, settling back down and tightening her arm around me. “You’re so warm. I’m so glad I don’t have work today.”

“M-Morning.” My voice cracked, which I guessed foreshadowed a new day of embarrassment for Greid. Wonderful. “How are you feeling?”

“Cramps are getting bad again.” I could hear the grimace in her voice. “I’ll go have a bath in a minute.”

She made no move to get up, so I didn’t either, but this was weird, right? I probably should have at least turned onto my back so I could see her while we talked. But then I might see regret or pity or disgust in her gaze.

My eye twitched. I stayed where I was.

“Did you sleep okay?”

I cleared my throat before speaking in an attempt to stop it from cracking again. “Splendidly.”

What the fuck? I cringed. I was pretty sure I’d never used that word before in my life. Had my brain leaked out of my ears when I came last night?

Beryl chuckled, and I felt her rise onto her elbow as her hand slid up to my chest—over a nipple, which instantly hardened, oh god—and she began gently urging me onto my back. “Greid.”

Taking a deep breath, I shifted around, trying not to squish her against the back of the couch, and stared up at her with wide eyes as her small hand rested over my pounding hearts.

She gave me a tiny, slightly nervous smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Splendid.” I cringed again. “I don’t know why I keep saying that word. I’m… I’m good. Great.”

“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly. Some of the light dimmed in her green eyes as she swallowed and said, “If you’ve changed your mind, Greid, that’s totally fine. We can just—”

“No,” I blurted. “I haven’t. I haven’t changed my mind.”

We were talking about the same thing, right? Or was she referring to something I’d forgotten? She hadn’t, like, asked me if I wanted to go get breakfast burritos right before we fell asleep or anything, had she?

“I mean, unless… you’ve changed your mind,” I said cautiously. If she started talking about whether or not to get avocado, I’d know for sure.

Unless avocados had a sexual use for humans that I didn’t know about.

“I haven’t,” she said simply, which didn’t clear things up at all. After a moment of hesitation, she cupped my cheek, making my breath catch. “I really like you, Greid. As more than a friend.”

Okay, I was about eighty percent certain that she wasn’t talking about breakfast burritos at this point. Although now a small part of my brain had latched onto the idea of breakfast burritos and refused to let go.

“Me too,” I said, voice cracking, then winced. That wasn’t exactly a reassuring declaration of my interest. Licking my lips, I added, “I really… I like you so much, Beryl.”

Her grin was tinged with relief, and my hearts stopped for a second when her gaze drifted down and fixed on my mouth. My fingers went all tingly as she started leaning down, but then she halted just an inch away.

“You mean as more than a friend, right?” she asked, brows pinching. “Just want to clarify that before I kiss you.”

Oh my god, please just shove your tongue in my mouth.

“Yes,” I rasped. “As more than a friend. A lot more. Probably too much more.”

Shitting hell, she needed to kiss me before I said anything else. Eyes softening, she stroked my cheek and closed the distance between us. The moment her lips met mine, I melted. Shivering, I curled my fingers into the soft fabric of her onesie and clung on as her tongue dipped into my mouth. Fuck, it was so soft and smooth. Did she hate all the bumps on mine? Did she think I had a medical condition or something?

My erection had faded while we talked, but now it flared back to life, stretching to nudge past the waistband of my sweats and pulsing against my belly. I felt its barbs rasping over my skin, making me shiver with pleasure. It felt good to me, but it would not feel good to Beryl.

Shit, how was this going to work?

Just enjoy this! I screamed to myself as my tongue slid against Beryl’s in a hot, slow glide. You’re kissing Beryl! BERYL. Her tongue is in your mouth RIGHT NOW. Stop thinking!

But I couldn’t. I suddenly realised that I hadn’t brushed my teeth last night before falling asleep, and I hadn’t brushed them this morning yet either. Ears fluttering with embarrassment, I tore my mouth from hers and covered it with my hand.

“Shit, sorry. I must have really bad morning breath.”

Beryl huffed. “So do I. I don’t care.”

I made a move to get up. “Let me just—”

“Greid. Stop worrying.” She hooked a leg over mine to prevent me from moving, then grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the couch cushions.

And that was it. My mind went blissfully blank. I shivered, sinking back down and sighing as my body went loose.

Beryl kissed the corner of my mouth, nuzzling me there as she grinned and murmured, “Good boy,” before crushing our lips together.

Oh my god, was she trying to make me come? My dick throbbed uncontrollably from her words, and I let out a humiliatingly plaintive moan into her mouth.

Call me a good boy again. Call me your little slut and tie me up and do whatever you want to me.

My eyes popped open in alarm. Okay, maybe I was getting… a little too worked up. Beryl had said she liked that I was submissive, but that didn’t mean she’d be into… anything else. All the stuff I fantasised about. All the stuff I craved and had never gotten to experience.

Shit, what if she was into it? She was still pinning my wrist down, making my cock leak all over my stomach. I felt overly heavy, my limbs sluggish. When she released my wrist to slide her hand over my chest, I didn’t move my arm because she hadn’t told me I could.

My legs spasmed when her hand trailed down and rubbed over the head of my cock, cupping it through thick fabric. Worry made my pulse jump, but she didn’t indicate that she could feel any barbs through the onesie as her fingers moved lower, mapping out the column of my dick.

Oh my god, Beryl’s touching my dick.

My breaths were trembling out of me, mingling with hers as we kissed feverishly. Maybe this could work. Maybe when she wanted to make me come, she could just jerk me off through the onesie. I basically lived in it anyway. Right now, the barbs on my cock were small—they felt more like a rough, pleasurable abrasion over my palm when I jacked off—so they didn’t pierce through the thick fabric and hurt her palm.

If I had a spontaneous orgasm, however…

“I want to touch your cock,” Beryl murmured, lifting her head to gaze down at me through lust-hazy eyes.

“Nnngh.” I swallowed thickly, pretending I couldn’t see my dick bucking urgently under the onesie as it cast its enthusiastic vote in the matter. “I—um…”

I didn’t think I had the brain power to explain things right now. I couldn’t just pull my cock out and present it to her. I’d seen those creepy drawings and etchings at the cult’s compound—the ones of a demiurgus standing proudly with a small, smooth dick. A very incorrect dick. If Beryl thought that was what mine looked like, she might be horrified by the reality.

Maybe sensing my sudden spike in anxiety, Beryl gave me an easy smile and slid her hand off my dick to stroke my side.

“Maybe later, huh? Or if and when you want me to.” Settling her head on my chest, she sighed and shifted closer. “You’re so comfy. Even with a giant boner digging into my arm.”

That made me snort out a slightly hysterical laugh, but it also succeeded in relaxing my tense muscles. Hesitantly, I lifted a hand and threaded my fingers through her curls. She immediately grunted and pushed her head into the touch.

“Can you use your claws? I’ve always thought they’d feel good.”

Almost swallowing my tongue, I gently raked my claws over her scalp. Beryl practically purred, sinking deeper into my side.

God, yes. This was sooo much better than shade. But it would be even better with shade, so I stretched out my arm to fumble with my smoking tin on the coffee table. “You mind if I smoke?”

She snorted. “Already? No, go ahead.”

“Just gonna have one.” Fishing out a joint, I stuck it between my lips and carefully lit a match, making sure to avoid Beryl’s hair. At my first deep drag, I melted into the couch.

Grabbing the remote, I fired up Gloom Falls. We watched TV for a while, my eyes getting heavy and all my limbs turning into overcooked noodles. I finished my joint and stubbed it out in the ashtray as my gaze snagged on the remnants of the snacks we’d eaten late last night. Stretching my arm out yet again, I grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed them into my mouth.

“Fuck, this is the best,” I mumbled, abandoning Beryl’s hair to squeeze her tighter to me. She felt so small and delicate against me, but my shade-loose brain started to imagine her pinning me down and overpowering me. Bossing me around. Maybe ordering me to get on my knees and—

“I don’t want to move, but the cramps are getting worse.” Beryl shifted up onto one arm with a grimace. “I’m gonna go take a bath.”

“Oh, okay.” I sat up in a rush and almost headbutted her. Before I could stammer out an apology, Beryl laughed and cupped my face, pressing a sweet kiss to my mouth. My ears went wild.

“Then I’ll go get our coffee,” she added. Unable to resist, hoping it was okay, I kissed her cheek before shaking my head.

“I’ll go. I’ll get us breakfast as well.” Standing up from the couch and stretching, I asked, “Breakfast burritos, right?”

“Huh?”

I turned to see Beryl giving me a confused frown, and suddenly remembered that we hadn’t actually discussed breakfast burritos at any point. Clearing my throat, I said, “Uh, I mean, do you want a breakfast burrito?”

“Sure.” She shrugged as she stood up. “You obviously have them on the brain.”

“Well, I mean… they’re really good,” I mumbled, picking up the remote to turn off the TV.

As Beryl padded out of the living room, I went around and blew out all the candles that had survived through the night. Most were puddles of hardened wax now, adding a new layer to the ones already stuck to the surfaces, but luckily I had about fifty boxes of scented candles in my Room of Shame.

After getting dressed, I shoved on my boots and coat and left the house. I realised I was grinning like a fool as I strode down the street when one of my neighbours walked past and did a double-take, but for once, I didn’t feel self-conscious. I was in too good of a mood. I was in a fucking amazing mood.

When the overly friendly barista at Deep Brew asked how my morning was going after taking my order, I barely managed to stop myself from blurting out, Beryl kissed me! Beryl said she likes me as more than a friend! I had an orgasm last night! WITH BERYL.

Instead, I told him I was fine and shuffled off to wait for our drinks. After fidgeting restlessly with my hands in my coat pockets for a minute, I couldn’t help but yank out my phone and open my texts with Beryl.

Want a blood tart? I sent her, mouth twitching. About five seconds later, she sent back an emoji of the green face about to throw up.

How about something else? I texted back. A pastry? Cinnamon bun?

I thought we were getting breakfast burritos, she replied.

Oh, shit, yeah. My stomach rumbled at the reminder. I probably should’ve got those first.

These would just be breakfast accoutrements, I said. Or dessert.

Beryl replied, Most people do not have dessert at breakfast, Greid.

Before I could think of a response, another text came through.

GREEDY BOY.

My face prickled as I stared down at the words, heat rushing over my skin. If she called me that while we were… doing stuff, I might shoot myself into the stratosphere from the force of my orgasm.

“Greedy,” a voice said in front of me. I almost dropped my phone as my head snapped up.

I stared in alarm at the barista on the other side of the counter, stuffing my phone guiltily into my pocket. “What?”

He gave me an odd look. “I said Greid. Order for Greid.”

“Oh.” Letting out a squawk of awkward laughter, I reached for the two takeout cups. “That’s me. Greid. I’m Greid. It’s, uh, it’s just Greid.”

He eyed me again. “I know, dude. That’s what I said.”

Cringing, I ducked my head and power-walked out of the coffee shop. Now everyone in there probably thought I referred to myself as ‘Just Greid!’ Fucking fantastic.

Realising I hadn’t responded to Beryl, I stopped by an empty table outside and put down our drinks to fish out my phone. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I stared at her last message.

Come on, Greid. You can flirt back. Or maybe she wasn’t flirting. She might have just been messing around.

Groaning in despair and causing two demiurgus seated at the next table to look over at me, I fired off a message without letting myself think about it.

I AM greedy.

There. That was flirting, right? That counted. Or, I mean, it was kind of just a statement of fact. God, how did people do this? I hadn’t had to flirt with Agma. She’d just sort of decided that we would be a couple, which I’d initially liked. Mainly because it took the decision out of my hands, and I was in my element when I wasn’t having to make decisions.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as I walked down the street, so I carefully cradled the two cups in one arm to pull it out.

I know you are, Beryl had sent back. I stared at the words, almost tripping on the sidewalk as I stopped paying attention to where I was walking.

That told me nothing. Was she flirting, or not? Did we even have to flirt if we’d already orgasmed together? Surely we’d sailed right past the flirting stage. We were already in the sharing-mutual-orgasms stage, which was so much better.

Couldn’t I just keep sending her dumb GIFs and embarrassing selfies when I had my magnifying goggles on? I started sweating at the notion of having to text her things like, wat u wearing with a row of winky faces. Or the dreaded, u up? Beryl wouldn’t like that anyway.

Or maybe she would. I had no idea. I’d never done this with a human before. Shit, were there specific things humans did in, like, new relationship-type situations? I frantically tried to think of all the human romcoms I’d watched. They seemed to like almost splitting up and then for one of them to make a grand, heartfelt declaration of love in the rain, or somewhere in public or in the middle of a big, important meeting. But that usually came at the end of the movie. I had time, right? God, please tell me I had time before Beryl expected me to do something like that. I’d probably spontaneously combust from embarrassment if and when it got to that point.

This was why I needed Beryl to tell me what to do. This was also why I liked getting high. My own brain could not be trusted.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Beryl

I was still in the bath when Greid texted me again telling me he was home with our breakfast. For a moment, I considered asking him to bring it up to me in the bath, but decided against it. Didn’t want to freak him out with too much at once, and he seemed… a little skittish.

I mulled over everything that had happened as I lay back in the tub, the hot water soothing my lower back and period-bloated belly. Greid had got flustered when I’d told him I wanted to touch his cock, his gaze warring between desire and nerves. At the time, I’d thought I was maybe moving too fast, but now I was remembering what he’d told me back at the compound: “Trust me—a human would not want a demiurgus cock inside them.”

Well, I didn’t want any cock inside me, so that wouldn’t be a problem, but Greid didn’t know that, and he hadn’t opened my medical record, so he didn’t know about my vaginismus. Then I remembered something else he’d said—something about how if any of the cult members ever actually saw a demiurgus cock, they wouldn’t be so eager to become a demiurgus mate.

What had he meant? Was that what had made him get anxious? Was he worried I wouldn’t like his dick?

I might not have enjoyed being penetrated, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love dicks. I did. I loved playing with them, sucking them, grinding my pussy against them until I came. Teasing them for as long as I could until the person attached was begging and pleading with me to let them come.

I didn’t care what Greid’s dick looked like. I already knew it was ridiculously huge, having seen the outline under his onesie. Maybe he was worried that if I actually saw it for real, I wouldn’t let him anywhere near me.

I sighed, swishing my hands through the bubbles. I was going to have to explain some things to him, and see if he was still interested in pursuing anything with me once he knew that penetrative sex was off the table. My experience to date had been a mixed bag, though I’d had only a handful of sexual partners. Some of them hadn’t overly cared, especially when faced with the prospect of a blowjob instead. Some of them had whined and tried to convince me that their dick would be the magical healing dick that would somehow feel amazing inside me and cure my vaginismus.

One guy had actually got up and left the room, saying there wasn’t any point if he couldn’t fuck me. That one had hurt until I’d let the rejection turn into defiant anger.

I already knew Greid wouldn’t be like that. I actually wasn’t all that worried about telling him. He was the gentlest, most understanding person I’d ever met. And maybe him knowing that I couldn’t and didn’t actually want to be penetrated by his enormous demiurgus cock would alleviate some of his nerves.

In the meantime, I wanted to do some research. For the first time in my life, I had a handy little device that would let me look up whatever I wanted. We weren’t allowed the internet at the compound. As far as I knew, Violet was the only one with online access to manage the Orderly Winemakers website, but she hadn’t ever let me use the internet on her computer. She’d been worried that they’d track her history and get suspicious.

After climbing out of the bath, I got dressed in clean pyjamas seeing as I didn’t have work today and planned on going absolutely nowhere. By the time I got downstairs and into the living room, Greid had already eaten half of his burrito.

He gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry. I waited as long as I could.”

Chuckling, I flopped down beside him on the couch. “I don’t care.”

He nodded at the hot water bottle beside me. “I filled that up for you.”

Chest squeezing tight, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Greid.”

His shoulders hunched up as he mumbled something, then I heard him let out a sharp breath before he hesitantly turned his head toward me. I went still, waiting to see what he would do.

His yellow eyes flicked between mine and my mouth, gaze nervous. Then he leaned in slowly and kissed me, soft and almost timid.

I immediately kissed him back, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. Some of the shyness fled from him then, a long arm snaking around my back as he tilted his head and kissed me again, deeper this time. Butterflies exploded in my belly, especially when our lips opened enough for his tongue to slip inside and glide against mine.

God, he was such a good kisser. Slow and unhurried and thorough, making my limbs get all trembly. I gripped his thigh to steady myself and chased after his mouth when he eventually pulled back, clearing his throat self-consciously.

“Sorry, I probably, um, taste like burrito.”

I slowly opened my eyes to see him gazing at my mouth. Before I could say anything, he lunged forward and kissed me again, groaning and wrapping his arms around me tight to haul me onto his lap.

I moaned in delight, immediately pushing him back onto the couch, which made him shudder and melt beneath me. His kiss was more desperate now, tongue plunging inside to tangle with mine. As if something inside him had snapped and he could no longer help himself.

The thought made me shiver with desire as I straddled his waist. He wasn’t wearing his onesie, just a soft sweater, so I could feel his body so much better this time. Lean and lanky, but with some slight give beneath my ass from his belly. God, I wanted to see Greid naked. I remembered spotting that line of green under his navel, like the demiurgus version of a happy trail. I wanted to press kisses all over his slightly rounded stomach and nuzzle my way down that little line—

My own gut rumbled loudly, making us both freeze with our mouths still locked together. I chuckled against Greid’s lips before pulling back as he blinked dazedly.

“Food,” he blurted, face spikes twitching. “Right. Sorry. Your burrito’s getting cold.”

I shifted off him and watched as he sat up, plucking at the front of his sweater—I was guessing to make sure it covered his groin—as he cleared his throat self-consciously. He reached for the coffee table and handed me my foil-wrapped burrito, then picked his up and stuffed a huge bite in his mouth.

“What are you doing today?” I asked as I unwrapped my food.

He grunted and swallowed his mouthful. Sometimes I swore he didn’t even chew. “Got an order I need to ship out by the end of the week, so I really have to get it finished. It’s a big one.”

“What is it?” I asked with interest. I loved going up to Greid’s workshop and looking at what he was working on. Each piece was unique and stunningly beautiful.

“This, like…” He waved a hand around his face. “Headpiece thing. For a client whose lifemate is some hotshot politician dude. She said they have a high-profile fundraiser thing to attend next weekend.”

I perked up, swallowing my bite of burrito. “Does that mean there’ll be paparazzi there taking pictures? Will your jewellery be in the news?”

He huffed. “I mean, it’ll be on her person, sure.”

“But don’t they always ask people ‘who they’re wearing’ at events like that?” I knew that much from the few gossip magazines I’d managed to sneak into my room at the compound. “They always say which designers and stuff they’re wearing.”

“I guess.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I dunno. I don’t like thinking about it.”

I laughed, shifting my leg to nudge his thigh with my toe. “Well, I’m gonna trawl through boring socialite news sites for any pics. I’ll recognise your work straight away.”

He cringed, reaching for his coffee cup. “The thought of being perceived in any way makes me super nervous.”

I softened, rubbing my foot over his thigh and hearing his breath catch. “Well, I don’t have to tell you if I find any photos. But I want to see. You should be proud of yourself, Greid. I’m proud of you.”

He ducked his head, ear fluttering wildly against his loose hair as he mumbled, “Thanks.”

He set down his coffee cup after taking a big gulp, then passed me mine. “What about you? What’re you doing today, I mean?”

Reading all about sexual submissives so I can hopefully make you lose your mind. “Not much. Just gonna veg out and watch TV.”

He groaned, stuffing the last of his burrito in his mouth. “Jealous.”

“Want me to come keep you company in the workshop?”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiled at me. “You stay down here and chill out. When are you next working?”

“Tomorrow. Brunch shift.” Full, I passed Greid the rest of my burrito and stretched lazily. “Can’t wait to spend all day doing nothing today.”

“That is the dream,” he agreed, fiddling with the foil around my half-eaten burrito. “Are you sure you’ve had enough?”

“Yep, you go ahead.”

“Guess I better go start work,” he said glumly, reaching for his coffee to gulp down the rest.

“Why don’t we watch a movie tonight?” And maybe I could give him a sneaky handjob under the blankets if he was interested.

A long, slow one, backing off every time he got close to coming. Telling him quietly to keep watching TV, to act like it wasn’t happening, so I could watch him desperately try to concentrate while I stroked his big dick out of sight.

My belly clenched with lust as Greid’s yellow eyes brightened. “Yeah, okay. There’s a new zombie one out that looks really good. You know, good in a bad way.”

I chuckled. “Sounds fun.”

He fidgeted beside me, still clutching the half-eaten burrito. His eyes darted down to my mouth then away. “Okay, well, um…”

I could tell he wanted to kiss me again. I wanted to kiss him too. But apparently his earlier moment of bravery had fled.

Or maybe it wasn’t about bravery. Maybe he just wanted me to take the lead. I already knew I preferred being in control during sex, but I hadn’t actually had enough sex to really explore my sexuality and what truly made me tick. My brief moments with Greid had already begun to teach me things about myself that I was desperate to explore.

I’d been feeling more like myself since starting my job at the bar. Like I was finally forging a life for myself out here, discovering facets of my personality that had never had the room or motivation to blossom in the cult. Ron had said the other day that he liked working shifts with me, because I was calm and capable, and he enjoyed watching me subtly put drunk assholes in their place when they got too leery.

I’d realised I was a lot friendlier than I’d thought I was at the compound. I often ended up chatting with other customers while we waited for our drinks at Deep Brew. Last week, I’d seen the demiurgus who’d been arguing on the phone with her ex-lifemate during my first visit to the coffee shop. She’d recognised me too, and we’d ended up stopping at one of the little tables outside for a while, with her telling me more about the fraught dissolution of her matehood to Gorig. She was called Corva. She was a successful event planner who’d recently moved to the Cimmerian District after leaving the nesthouse she and Gorig had shared in a busier part of the city. She was awesome.

There were the silly little things too, like my love of coffee and corny TV shows and the sense of satisfaction from stepping out of the bar after a long, tiring shift. Walking down the bustling street, passing other people just living their lives, pausing to look in shop windows at things that caught my eye. The knowledge that I could do anything, buy anything, go wherever I wanted.

How I actually was a touchy-feely person, at least when it came to Greid, always wanting to sit close to him on the couch or lean my shoulder against his arm while we watched TV, even before things had progressed between us.

I blinked when I realised he’d heaved himself up off the couch and was shuffling to the door. “See you later.”

My legs twitched with the urge to get up and grab him for a kiss before he left, but I stayed where I was as I gave him a cheerful goodbye. There’d be plenty of time for kissing later, and I didn’t want to risk getting into something before I knew more about what made him tick.