“Good morning,” he replied. “Sleep well?”
“Not bad. What time is it?”
“A little after eight.”
“Fuck,” Snod gasped, sitting up quickly. He couldn’t believe he had slept in so late, his heart instantly
fluttering in panic. Then again, it didn’t matter, did it?
He had nowhere else to be.
“What’s wrong?” Frankie asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
“I’m usually up and moving much earlier than this,” Snod said, flopping back down in bed. “I think
you wore me out.”
“Me? Please, you’re the one who couldn’t get enough last night,” Frankie taunted.
Snod smiled sheepishly, his eyes glancing over Frankie’s muscular body. He was still naked,
stretched out on top of the covers, sunlight peeking through the windows and splashing little shadows
all over him. He looked absolutely gorgeous.
Snod reached out, gently touching his hip where the sun was hitting, asking, “It really doesn’t hurt
you?”
“No,” Frankie said with a shake of his head, “not for a very long time.”
“Another gift from your Maker?”
“No, this one is all my own,” Frankie replied, a hint of sadness tainting his handsome expression.
“How?” Snod asked, unable to hide his curiosity.
“I walked into the sun and survived,” was the sad reply, Frankie glancing away at the wall.
“You walked into...” Snod frowned. “You tried to kill yourself.”
“Yes,” Frankie said, sitting up suddenly.
“Why?” Snod asked dumbly, confused.
“Not everyone wants to be immortal, Obe,” Frankie sighed, his eyes dark. “Especially when your
Maker is a monster.”
Snod’s lip twitched, swallowing hard. He could tell this was a difficult subject, but he knew he
needed information. He needed a name. He tried to remain calm as he could, saying casually, “You
were trying to get away from him?”
“Yes,” Frankie said, moving from the bed and blinking into a shirt and sweatpants. “I tried, I failed,
and now I can walk in the sun. It’s how I was finally able to escape him.”
