“Boo.” She peeks at me through one eye and pouts, “I don’t wanna.” It’s the most fucking adorable thing I’ve ever seen, and my heart lurches in my chest.
“Hmm.” I press my lips to her hair and fight back a smile as I pretend to think. “I can run you a bath and we can have a soak. I can take care of you.”
She leans back and squints at me, “Cian, you just fucked me into next week. I need at least… like, an hour or two until we go again.”
My chest heaves with laughter and I shake my head, “I don’t think I’ve got any bodily fluids left, love. They’re all in you.” I can’t stop the satisfied grin from spreading across my face as her cheeks flush a pretty pink.
Trissa sighs and smiles, “Alright then, I’m your problem now. Take care of me.”
My grin fades and I swallow as I promise, “forever.”
A Cryptid Enters the Chat
Seth
One month later…
My teeth sink into the little pastry thing I’m eating and I hum with delight. I have no idea what the hell it is, or what Oliver put in it to make it so damn good, but at this point I don’t really care. I’m just glad to be eating it. Water gently burbles from the now working fountain in Cian and Trissa’s back yard, and a mosaic pattern flits across the water’s surface as the fairy lights hanging all above the courtyard twinkle in earnest. It’s idyllic… a complete contrast to the sensations the front of the house invoked not so long ago, stained with blood as it was. Everything has been cleaned and painted over, but the vibes are still different.
I shake my head and frown,way to get a dark and broody, Seth.Not the vibes I strive for—at all. Cian’s blonde hair catches my attention and I turn towards him, forcing myself to shake off the dreary and injecting as much playfulness into my tone as possible.
“Open wide!” I hold out one of the little pastry things Ollie brought with him and wave it in front of Cian’s face.
“Wha—hmfph—Seth, what the fuck? You can’t just shove baked goods in my fucking…” my ornery bestie sputters—rather dramatically—around the delectable morsel before chewing and tilting his head to the side. “This is actually really good.”
“No shit. Everything Oliver makes is delicious. If I was single and he wasn’t enamored with that banshee witch I might go after him myself, just for his delicious snacks.”
Cian squints, “Really? I thought you said without his glamour he’s…” his hands gesture vaguely in the air between us as he trails off.
My shoulders lift in a shrug and I waggle my brow ridges, “I’ll try anything once.”
“What are we trying?” Oliver’s reserved voice pipes up from behind us and I spin around to see him looking dapper in his usual getup of corduroy pants and a bold sweater vest that somehow slaps. Speak of the devil and all that. A lascivious smile tugs at the corner of my lips (because why not?) while Cian smiles tightly, eyeballing me as if keeping me in his sights will somehow deter me from poking the metaphorical bear. Absurd. It’s like he doesn’t know me at all. I’m gonna poke it. I’m gonna poke the shit out of it.
“You,” I purr. Oliver blinks twice at my innuendo and I fix him with my best simper.
Cian squeezes his eyes shut, his smile somehowmorewooden as he huffs, “He means your pastry.”
“Mmm, do I?” Serving ‘coquettish’ without eyelashes is a challenge, but I flare my orbs and fold a hand under my chin in as close an approximation as I can manage, despite the fact that this is as human as I can look without a glamour.
The phantom menace scoffs and Oliver looks between us with mild confusion but smiles politely.
“They’re delicious, Oliver. Thank you for bringing them,” Cian mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose and sighing.
“He means your buns.” A grin splits my face as Oliver’s smile slowly falls and Cian makes a choking sound that threatens to break my poker face. I swear, he just makes it too easy.
“They’re actually cream puffs.” Oliver shifts on his feet and glances at Cian before looking back at me and pursing his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
The squonk is an undercover deviant! He fucking knowsexactlywhat he’s doing. Oh, gods, I think I love this little weirdo.
My voice warbles with restrained laughter as I amend, “Even better, he loves your cream.”
“For fucks sake, Seth.” Cian’s blush has spread from his cheeks to the bright red tips of his ears, and is quickly spreading down his neck. Ollie doesn’t bother hiding his shit eating grin as he shrugs his shoulders like its par for the course, andof coursepeople love having his cream in their mouths.
I wait a beat before snickering and shouting, “Guess who’s trying the Dubai chocolate cheese-sticks!”
A long suffering groan sounds out from the doorway before Trissa floats down the porch steps, materializing next to her boo and wrapping her arms around his right elbow.
“Baaaabe, really?” She might have seemed exasperated, if it wasn’t for the beaming smile on her face.
