Free Web NovelChapter 176: Sherry, At Last.
The invitation hung in the air between us, warm and patient. Golden light spilled from the open apartment doorway, painting a bright rectangle across the scuffed hallway tiles that stretched all the way to the toes of my boots.
I could just make out the curved edge of her sofa inside, the soft amber glow of the lamp on the side table, and the faint shift of her shadow as she moved deeper into the room. Fabric whispered against fabric, a quiet rustle that carried on the warmer air drifting out to meet me.
I stood there for one more heartbeat, the full weight of the night pressing against my ribs like a physical thing. My pulse was loud in my ears. The corridor air felt cooler against my skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from the open doorway. freēwēbnovel.com
She had been close to me from the moment we crossed the Life Layer. This night hadn’t been engineered by the system or mission. It had simply been a long time arriving.
A faint trace of her scent drifted out with the warmth, something soft and clean that caught in my throat. It pulled the memories forward like a hook behind my ribs.
I saw you with Mute. I don’t think you’re a healer, Bram. You’re electrokinetic. Your secret is safe with me.
The words landed low in my gut, warm and startling all over again. She had thought she had seen through the mask I wore for everyone else, and she had chosen to stay anyway.
I exhaled slowly. The cool hallway air filled my lungs, sharp and grounding. Inside, her shadow moved again. Another soft rustle of cloth, maybe the hem of a shirt sliding over skin as she changed. The sound tugged at something deeper.
Good night, Bram, she had said that night at Hogsby, voice low and a little breathless after our first real kiss. Then she had shut the door between us, leaving me standing in another hallway much different from this one, heart hammering against my ribs just as it was now.
My fingers flexed at my sides. The wooden doorframe was inches away, still radiating the apartment’s warmth.
When we get back to the walls, I want us to be more than friends.
That promise had come later, spoken against my shoulder in the dark. I remembered the exact press of her fingers into my arm, the way her breath had brushed my collarbone. The memory sat heavy in my chest now, a sweet ache that made it harder to breathe evenly.
Another step brought the warmer air fully around me, wrapping my arms and chest. It carried the low murmur of something playing softly inside, maybe music, maybe just the city sounds filtering through her open window. The sound wrapped around the next memory, pulling it up like a tide.
I love you, Bram. I mean it. Her legs wrapped tight around me in the sand outside the Fallen City, sand still clinging to our skin, her voice fierce and certain against my mouth. The memory hit like a physical wave, heat blooming across my face and down my neck. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
This is the kind of life I never had in Goth. I think this might be the best night of my life.
I wasn’t going to ruin her night. There was no mission ticking in the back of my head anymore. No source to monitor, no primodial woman to mark, no purpose my father had drilled into me. Just her. Probably already in those soft pajamas, waiting with that quiet patience.
Aren’t we outsiders? The question echoed from earlier tonight, spoken with that half-smile she got when she was challenging me. I just feel like I could eat you.
The door was open all night.
My pulse kicked harder. The cool air of the hall brushed the back of my hand one last time as I shifted my weight forward. The door was open.
I took one more slow breath, letting the hallway’s chill settle in my lungs, then stepped across the threshold.
The door clicked shut behind me with a quiet, final sound that sealed the hallway away. Warm lamplight bathed the apartment in soft gold, softening every edge and casting long, gentle shadows across the floor.
The air inside was warmer, carrying the faint, clean scent of her soap, a touch of perfume, and something uniquely Sherry.
I noticed her heels kicked off near the doorway, one slightly turned on its side. I slipped out of my own boots, the cool floorboards pressing through my socks as I took the first steps deeper into the space. She had gone further in. The bedroom. I followed the pull of the light and the faint sound of her breathing.
Sherry stood near the bed, facing the mirror, back partially turned. The thin straps of her new red pajamas had slipped slightly off one shoulder. The fabric was soft and clinging, hugging the curve of her waist and the gentle swell of her hips as she shifted, watching her own reflection. The red color caught the lamplight, making her skin look warmer, almost glowing.
She glanced over her shoulder at me. Her short brunette hair caught the light, framing her face in soft strands. Her eyes met mine first in the mirror, dark and steady, then she turned fully toward me.
I kept crossing the distance. The closer I got, the more I felt the heat coming off her body in soft waves. She turned completely now, facing me as I approached. Her breathing had picked up, just a little quicker, lifting the fabric of the pajama top with each inhale. The hem rode up slightly as I closed the distance, revealing a thin sliver of smooth skin at her waist.
The pajamas were simple, but on her they looked deliberate, chosen with care for this exact moment.
I stopped right in front of her. Close enough that the warmth from her skin brushed against mine. Close enough to see the faint flush rising across her cheeks and the way her fingers flexed at her sides, as if she was holding herself back from reaching out. Inches apart.
The air between us felt charged, thick with everything we had not yet said out loud. Her eyes searched mine, carrying that same quiet challenge from the hallway, but softer now. Deeper. Waiting.
The silence stretched, filled only by the low hum of the city outside the window and the steady rhythm of our breathing. My pulse thrummed in my ears. Every small detail pressed in: the faint scent of her hair, the way the slipped strap rested against her collarbone, the subtle rise and fall of her chest.
"What took you so long?" she asked, in a thirsty voice I had never heard from her before.
