Page 8 of The Naga

"Don't hey me. I'm sending you the link. Make your own profile and read up all you want. I have chores to do."

"Don't tell anyone," I warned him again, and he shot me a look as he clattered away. My phone pinged a moment later with his text, and I quickly made my own profile and joined the group.

I read through their posts for the next two hours. The post about telling your human mates was full of real-life accounts, and I rolled my eyes at some of them. Apparently, a bobcat shifter had shifted in front of their human best friend (who was mated to another supe) to tell him, and the human had fainted. I hoped Dustin didn't react that badly when I told him.

In the end, I concluded that 'showing' your mate the truth might be the best way to go, but it would go better if you prefaced it with some questions about magic, or even by telling them the truth instead of just showing them the truth out of nowhere.

While it sounded simple enough on the paper—or rather, screen—I knew it would be anything but. I didn't want to take too long before telling Dustin, though. I didn't know how he'd react, and though Fate had paired us, I still didn't think it guaranteed we'd end up together. If my true form was going to be too much for Dustin, I wanted to know before I invested myself too much into the relationship.

What was I saying? I'd be heartbroken even if Dustin said he wasn't interested anymore now, but I still thought it would be better than if it happened after we'd been dating for months.

Dustin

I'd spent my whole lunch break, and much of my evening planning for our date. And now I was annoyed as fuck.

Why was it so hard to craft a date for a wheelchair user?

I wasn't annoyed at Khush or the fact that he needed a wheelchair, no. (Sure, I might be a little bit curious as to why he needed it, but I wasn't going to ask unless he started the conversation, because it wouldn't change anything.) I was boiling with rage at all the ableist fucking people who thought building a simple ramp was too much trouble. Or the theaters that couldn't spare a few empty spaces for wheelchair users unless it was right in the front where no one wanted to sit.

But I'd persisted, because I wanted to give Khush a great experience and an even more amazing first date.

After a lot of searching and cutting down options, I finally found a theater where I could book accessible seats online and pick exactly where we wanted to sit. I also made sure it was a theater with a lift and other accessibility features. I wasn't going to let anything mess with our night.

Since Khush couldn't leave his chair, I couldn't pick him up in my car, but he said that was okay because his friend would drop him at the theater.

Luckily, there was a great restaurant nearby, and I'd called ahead to book us a table in a cozy corner that was spacious enough for Khush's wheelchair.

After texting all the details to Khush, I'd finally made myself some dinner, eating in front of the TV while Scrappy napped beside me on the couch. Scrappy had made an art out of snoozing anywhere she could, but if I was in the house, shealways slept as close to me as she could manage. I loved that about her. Whoever said cats don't really love their owners had clearly never won over a cat's heart.

Case in point: I glanced away from the TV to find Scrappy watching me with her big yellow-black eyes, just gazing at me as if I was the only person in the world. In her world? I might as well be. Sure, she treated me like I was supposed to be at her beck and call, but she loved me, so it was okay.

Finishing dinner, I washed up after myself, then cleaned up before climbing under the comforter. Scrappy joined me quickly, and I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her soft fur as my mind went over our plans for tomorrow again and again.

I didn't have much hope of falling asleep tonight, but I tried anyway. I needed to look my best for Khush tomorrow, and I wasn't going to seem like a zombie.

Even though I was doing all the planning, I was glad Khush had asked me out first. It saved me from having to worry about going too fast, or rushing into things. I really liked Khush, and not just because he was the hottest man I'd ever seen.

Khush was also surprisingly sweet, and he had this way of making me smile by saying—or rather texting—the simplest things. He'd told me a bit about the people he lived with, his friends whom he considered his family, and I could tell he really loved them just through his words.

While I'd first assumed his quietness during our conversation when we met was because he was doing that 'guy thing' where they think not replying or talking in general somehow makes them sexier (it doesn't, except in Khush's case, obviously), I now knew it was because Khush could be pretty shy sometimes. He was also a little oblivious, which made flirting with him basically useless, but I liked it anyway.

I'd realized the best way to go with Khush was to speak your mind. To be direct. Though I hadn't gotten to see it, I was sure some of my texts had made him all flustered and blushy. I could tell by the way he'd pause with the three dots going before replying with a sentence that was too short for how long he'd been typing.

Somehow, I managed to fall asleep while still thinking about Khush, and the next day arrived faster than I'd expected.

It was Saturday, but customer support didn't take the weekend off. I did get days off, but I usually didn't take the weekends. This Saturday, I'd requested a half-day, mostly because I knew I'd spend the whole day with my head in the clouds or on anxiety level ten if I didn't have something to distract me.

What better way to distract myself than trying to calm down a bunch of customers who had nothing better to do on a weekend than tussle with a customer support person? Of course, there were a few actual cases where customers needed help with their issues, but most of them simply seemed to be out to ruin as many people's weekends as they could.

By the time I finished for the day, I was mentally exhausted. So I lay down on the floor and cuddled Scrappy for a full hour to recharge before unpeeling myself from the floor and stomping into the shower.

I washed up quickly, glad I'd already picked out my clothes as I slipped on the binder. I'd decided to go with something a little more traditionally masc. Just a little, mind you.

I slid on the skinny jeans, then pulled on the baby pink full-sleeved sweater that was made of clouds. It was one of my favorite sweaters, knitted by a close friend of mine, and he'd used the softest yarn I'd ever touched. It felt like heaven against my skin, and if there was any touching involved tonight (please let there be some casual touching), it would feel heavenly against Khush's skin too.

Lastly, I slid on my high-heeled black boots, doing the buckles before straightening up and glancing at myself in the mirror. I used just a little product to add some luster to my wavy brown hair, but skipped makeup except for some light pink lipstick.

Satisfied, I struck a pose, then glanced up and down at myself, taking in the whole outfit before deciding it would do.

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