Free Web NovelChapter 186: 186 | The Aftercare Thing
I kissed her forehead before carefully pulling out, drawing a soft whimper from her lips. Her legs unwrapped from my waist with obvious reluctance and when her feet touched the floor she wobbled dangerously.
"Whoa." I caught her around the waist before she could fall. "Easy."
"My legs don’t work." She said it like she was accusing me of something. "You broke my legs."
"Pretty sure they’re still attached."
"Functionally useless. You’re going to have to carry me everywhere for the rest of the day."
"I could just leave you in the shower."
"You wouldn’t dare."
She was right. I wouldn’t dare.
I reached past her to turn off the water, which had definitely crossed from lukewarm into cold territory. The sudden silence was almost startling after all the noise we’d been making.
"Come on." I wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the shower. "Let’s get you dried off."
The towels Sloane had brought were soft and absurdly pink, covered in a pattern of tiny cats that was completely at odds with her public image as a dangerous explosive combatant. I grabbed one and wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing the fabric against her skin to warm her up.
"You’re good at this," she murmured. "The aftercare thing."
"I’ve had practice."
"With me."
"With you." I kissed her temple. "Only ever with you."
She smiled, a soft private expression that she only ever wore in moments like this. The sharp edges of Sloane Fitzgerald temporarily filed down to reveal the person underneath. The one who kept a stuffed bear in the back of her closet and cried at dog rescue videos and was terrified of becoming her mother despite loving her more than anyone. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
"I love you," she said quietly. "You know that right? I know I don’t say it enough and I show it by threatening property damage and being aggressively jealous but I do. Love you. A lot."
Something in my chest went warm and tight.
"I know."
"Good." She poked me in the ribs. "Don’t make me repeat myself. That was already embarrassing enough."
"Wouldn’t dream of it."
I finished drying her off and then dried myself while she sat on the closed toilet lid and watched with an expression that was somehow both exhausted and evaluating.
"Your back is all scratched up."
"Wonder whose fault that is."
"Yours. For being good at sex. I had to hold onto something."
"Glad to know I’m good for something."
"You’re good for several things." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Sex. Cooking. Carrying heavy objects. Making Percy feel less awkward. Annoying me."
"That’s a pretty comprehensive skill set."
"It’s not a bad foundation." She stood up, wobbling only slightly this time, and moved toward the bathroom door. "I need to put clothes on before someone knocks and I have to explain why there’s a naked man in my shower."
"Good plan."
She paused at the door, looking back over her shoulder. The pink cat towel was wrapped around her body and her hair was dripping onto the tile floor and she still looked like the most dangerous thing in the building.
"Lukas."
"Yeah?"
"If you ever smell like vanilla again I’m setting your hoodie collection on fire."
"That seems excessive."
"Consider it motivation."
She disappeared into the bedroom. I stood in the steamy bathroom for a moment longer, staring at my reflection in the fogged mirror. The scratches on my back stung pleasantly. My muscles ached in the specific way that meant I’d been using them well. And somewhere in the back of my mind the Oracle Feed flickered with an update I didn’t bother reading because I already knew what it would say.
Sloane’s Gauge wasn’t going to move. It was already at eighty-four percent, already firmly in Devoted territory, already as high as it could reasonably go without tipping into something more permanent.
She loved me.
She’d said it out loud for maybe the third time since this whole thing started. Sloane Fitzgerald, who showed affection through insults and violence and occasionally dragging me into showers for possessive sex, had looked me in the eyes and said the words.
The System might be running my life. The Temptation Gauges might be tracking my relationships like data points in some cosmic scumbag algorithm. The missions might be pushing me toward outcomes I wasn’t sure I wanted to examine too closely.
But this? What I had with Sloane?
This was real.
I found my clothes where she’d stripped them off me earlier and got dressed while Sloane did the same in the bedroom. By the time I emerged she was wearing a fresh outfit, dark leggings and an oversized t-shirt that might have been mine originally, her wet hair gathered into a messy bun on top of her head.
"Better," she said, examining me critically. "You smell like cedar now."
"Your cedar."
"My cedar. My soap. My boyfriend." She nodded with satisfaction. "As it should be."
"You know I have to go back to my building eventually."
"I’m aware."
"And that my building contains women."
"Also aware." Her jaw tightened slightly but she kept her composure. "We’ve discussed this. I understand the situation intellectually. I’m just. Working on the emotional part."
"That’s all I can ask."
"You could ask for less. You could ask for nothing. Instead you keep being reasonable and patient and it makes me want to punch you in the face for being so goddamn understanding."
"That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me."
"Shut up." ƒгeewёbnovel.com
She threw a pillow at my head. I caught it because my Dexterity was eighty and this was becoming a pattern between us.
"I should probably check in with Percy. He gets anxious when I disappear for too long."
"Your emotional support analyst."
"Something like that."
Sloane walked me to her door, which felt weirdly formal given what we’d just been doing in the shower. But that was the nature of their situation now. Public versus private. The face she wore for her classmates versus the person she was when they were alone.
"Text me when you get back to your building."
"I’m walking across campus. Not entering a warzone."
"Text me anyway."
"Fine."
She rose up on her toes and kissed me. Soft this time. Almost sweet. A stark contrast to the frantic heat of the shower.
"I’ll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," I agreed.
