Page 54 of Outlaw Witch

17

The next morning Ihead straight to the mages’ apartment. It’s only my second morning here and I have zero food or coffee in my apartment, and I’m perfectly willing to scrounge some off my new employers. I figure that getting fed should be a perk of the job.

Especially considering they don’t seem to lock their front door, which boggles my mind. They live in the middle of the Nexus District, an area renowned for its shady and criminal activity, and yet they don’t follow basic security protocols.

Or maybe I have issues with boundaries. Who’s to say?

A couple of minutes later and I’m in the middle of their kitchen with Fabian sitting beside me at the kitchen island, his leg brushing up against mine, and we sip coffee quietly.

It feels weirdlynormal,like this is something we do on the regular, and not at all like two people who only met for the first time yesterday.

“So, the sleeping potion helped?” I ask him. I already kinda know the answer, since he practically fell asleep on me, but that doesn’t mean that he slept through the night.

“Best night I’ve had in a long time,” he rasps. “And this morning, I feel more like I belong to the real world and less like a weird alien that got dumped here without a translation implant.”

That’s an... interesting visual. Weirdly enough, though, I understand exactly what he means. “That’s how you feel most mornings?”

He nods. “Most days, most nights. Like I told you before, it’s a real fun factory inside my head these days.”

“I’ll ask Luna to make some more up for you.”

“Thank you.” His words are soft as he keeps his attention focused on my face, searching for something, although I’m not sure what it is. “I have to admit, I didn’t know what to expect. Nothing else has worked, you know? And after a while, not sleeping builds up until it’s this immovable obstacle. It’s such a routine, normal thing and I feel so fucking helpless that I can’t do something so basic.”

Once again, Fabian surprises me with his openness. I don’t know if it’s growing up the way I did, or spending the past decade fighting to survive, but I’ve never met anyone so unguarded with a near stranger.

“I’ve, uh, actually got a checkup this morning. With the med bay,” he says. “I was wondering if you want to come down, do your own check up?”

I’m tempted to tell him no, considering it’s doubtful that anything has changed since yesterday. I can’t imagine one good night’s sleep has had any impact on thatthingtaking up residence in his blood.

But then I figure it won’t do any harm to take another look, so I give a little shrug.

“So long as you aren’t imagining I’m going to wear a sexy nurse’s outfit in this scenario, then I’m happy to tag along.”

I have no idea why those are the words that spill out of my mouth. Maybe it’s that his vulnerability has left me feeling uncomfortably soft inside. It’s like he’s melting the ice cold fortress around my heart by being such a damn sweetheart.

Dammit.

Or maybe I’m not as tough as I like to think.

Fine. I’m a damn marshmallow. Not even a stale one either, I’m as soft and gooey centered as a marshmallow that’s been on an open flame.

Dammit.

Silence falls between us following my flippant words about being his sexy nurse. It ticks along for far too long and I really should retract my words, or staple my mouth shut.

Or saysomething.

Anything.

Instead I just stare wide-eyed at my hands until eventually I risk looking up at Fabian.

He still looks a little taken aback.

But he also looks...

Kind of turned on. Shit. There’s barely banked heat in his eyes.

Holy fuck. While I’ve been having a mini mental breakdown, has he been sitting there imagining me dressed up all sexy and pouting as I check his vitals?

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