"They always remind me of those clean-up crews in the John Wick movies," Nia remarks as she closes the door, and I find myself privately agreeing. The quasis' manners were courteous and professional, but you also kinda get the feeling they're completely indifferent to the whole thing, and it does make you wonder. Do they even care if their next cleanup involves human corpses?
Nia helps me clean my wound after my shower, and it's while my roommate meticulously wraps a fresh set of bandages around my middle that a hollow feeling carves into my chest. So much has happened in just the past hour or two, it's almost as if I've only imagined the god crashing through both real and imaginary windows to yank me out of my nightmare.
I try to convince myself that I'm okay with the god coming and going just like that, but as soon as I slip under the covers, my eyes start to sting—-
Shit, shit, shit.
I'm about to get out of bed, intending to make up an excuse so I can cry in peace in one of the cubicles in the shower room, but just as I start to get up, a strong pair of invisible arms wrap around my body from behind, and a shriek of surprise escapes me before I realize what's happening.
Nia, who's still at her desk working on her photos, jerks in shock and twists around in her chair, demanding, "What is it?"
"I...uh..." It takes me a while to answer, with my senses still reeling from the familiar heat of the god's body pressing against my back. Even though I can't see him, I can feel him - and I feel enough to know that he's once again entirely naked.
"Hales?"
The god pulls me closer under the covers, and my whole body goes up in flames.
"Is anything wrong?"
It's so, so hard to concentrate, and I end up blurting the first thing that comes to my mind. "I...uh...had a nightmare?"
Nia stares at me incredulously. "You literally just got under the covers seconds ago."
"I'm a fast sleeper?"
I feel the god smiling against my hair, and it makes me feel pissed and giddy at the same time even as I scramble to convince my roommate, who's now looking at me like I've a couple of screws forcibly loosened by Aura.
"It's the painkillers," I finally remember to add. "The divine herbs in it are just making me..." I pretend to yawn for added effect, and this seems to do the trick as the frown fades from Nia's face.
"Now that you mentioned it, I remember Keia saying it's super effective." A sly smile unfolds over her lips as she asks, "Maybe you can use it as well to heal other kinds of pain?"
I look at her blankly. "What other kind of pain?"
Nia presses the back of her hand against her forehead in a dramatic gesture of misery. "Boo-hoo, my god no longer wants me—-"
Heat bursts in my cheeks when I realize all too late what she's talking about. "Shut up—-"
"Never," Nia says with a snicker. "Do you know how hard it was to control myself the entire weekend? But now that you seem fine—-"
"I'm not!"
"I've been meaning to ask you - was it true? What you said? Have you really never seen your god?"
"Um—-"
"Then again," Nia says reasonably, "I really don't see you as the type to lie about something like that, so I guess it's true? You've never seen your divine benefactor...even if you've obviously enjoyed lots of beneficial hanky-panky—-"
"Nia!"
But my friend only grins. "Is the truth too painful to hear? But seriously, you were unbelievable that night, dude! You just couldn't shut up about your god—-"
I was not aware that I was a favorite topic of yours.
Mortified to the bones, I'm unable to help myself as I protest, "You're not!"
Nia blinks at me. "I'm not what?"
Shit.
"Correct," I say lamely. "You're not correct." And now I'm feeling even a thousand times lamer, with the way the god's chest is rumbling with laughter against my back.
Nia, however, is shaking her head at me like she's just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. "Why don't you just admit it?" she asks reasonably.
"There's nothing to admit—-"
"There so is, dude. Remember how you also couldn't stop yakking about your god's sexual prowess?"
"Nia!!! Shut up!!!"
"My god is different," Nia mimics. "He's very, very nice, and he kisses nice, too!"
For the record, I also think you are very, very nice, and your kisses are equally nice.
I so badly wish I could snarl at the god, but since I can't, I decide to test a certain theory by pushing my elbow back hard—-
And said theory proves correct when I hear the god release a slight grunt as my elbow makes contact with his invisible body.
"You also said, and I quote—-'he does everything nice', and the best part was when you said—-"