Page 113 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

“Wait, don’t you have your own bed?” Chloe asks, turning in the bed and blinking up at him.

This time, there are no streetlamps to illuminate him, just the blinking light from the microwave muted from the other room.

“You’re in it,” he replies instead, and at least this time he’s almost amused. “Why would I have a guest bedroom here?”

“Do you need me to…” Chloe trails off at the ridiculousness of what she was about to say. Does he need her to sleep on the chair, after they’ve shared a bed for the last few nights? After the battle, where soreness still struggles with exhaustion and sleeping in a chair would make it infinitely worse.

After they had that stolen kiss, the one that still pounds in Chloe’s heart.

“Demons don’t have the same awkwardness humans do,” he replies loftily, in the exact tone both Melekai and Ambra use when they are, in fact, feeling awkward. “If I wanted you someplace else, I’d put you there.”

That last sentence is quieter. Almost hushed.

“I guess this house is the most secure place in the world right now,” Chloe muses, and he exhales something between a laugh and a sigh of relief, that she’s not fighting him on it. She turns in the bed again, curling up away from him, resuming the exact position she was in before he joined her.

If he’s going to insist it’s not awkward, then she’s going to do her damndest to make it as normal as possible.

“Only because you’re not trying to take down the protections,” he murmurs, and tentatively, ever so tentatively, rests his hand near to the small of her back, spreading his fingers on the comforter between them, close enough the tension of the blankets change.

Chloe’s breath hitches before she makes herself exhale.

“I don’t like that she injured you,” he whispers to the air.

So they are talking about this.

“I don’t like that they did something that forced you from your other body, so we’re even,” Chloe says, blinking out towards the dark window.

“You’re not understanding,” he says, and she can feel the tension in his voice, as he shifts in the bed. Closer. “No other demon gets to hurt you.”

Chloe swallows.

She’s been around the other demons long enough to know where this train is going, and she doesn’t know how to feel, how to think, not when he’s this close and there are mere centimeters between his hand and her back.

Of course she knows about demons and their protectiveness. The college intentionally manipulated Maison’s nature for their use with Delina, causing him so much heartbreak. Ambra’s so wrapped up in the idea that Gurlien could get hurt that she would jump and run to protect him at all costs, even at her own detriment. Terese, for all that she is human, fought off another demon possession for her love.

Melekai even died—albeit for a short time—for his Necromancer.

Chloe breathes out, controlled, her skin prickling.

She’s known Killian a hell of a lot less time than any of those pairs, and it sits, afraid, deep in her stomach.

Is she, once more, getting herself into something too deep, too dangerous, just by embarking on this quest with another person? Is she risking more than her life?

But then, there’s a little graze of contact from his hand, so soft it’s tentative, like he too can’t quite comprehend what is happening, and Chloe’s back unwinds. Relaxes.

Like just that little touch brings some safety. Some contentment, outside of her control. Some sense that despite allher worries, despite everything else, she’ll be okay. Just fine. Alright, as long as she stays right here, next to him.

It’s directly at odds with everything else warring inside of her, and she squeezes her eyes shut in the frustration of it.

Chloe’s not immune to the knowledge that her mind contradicts itself sometimes, but this is somewhat beyond the pale.

Next to her, Killian sighs, a quiet movement of air. “You sure you won’t let me knock you out?”

“Absolutely positively not,” Chloe snaps, her heart already racing a bit too much. “I fall asleep as normal or not at all.”

Gingerly, he rests a hand on her ribs, right where the bruise throbs. It’s not enough to hurt it worse, it’s not enough to do anything to trigger any pain, just a slow weight to soothe the discomfort.

And Chloe hates that it works, too.

---