“You know as well as I do that your monster feels differently,” Notto says.
“Fuck him,” Keary answers. There’s no conviction in his voice. His tone remains uninterested and unbothered. “I don’t give a shit what my monster or what yours want. The answer remains no. If you’re going to keep pestering me, then you can go the fuck away because I’m over it.”
Footsteps, then a door. I wait for the voices to follow, but they don’t.
With no windows, I can’t pretend to know what time it is, but today was exhausting. Stressful. I’m wrung out, so it takes me no time to fall asleep once the distractions have been silenced.
I’m not sure if I sleep for hours or minutes, nor am I sure what wakes me. When I open my eyes, I nearly jump out of bed.
Notto is standing over me, a dark shadow split with cracks of light and eerily glowing eyes. He must enjoy my startlement since his teeth flash in a smile so white it’s as if they’re fucking glowing too.
“What the hell?” I hiss. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out why Keary kept you,” Notto answers.
“Like a damn creep?” I adjust in bed, trying to calm my pounding heart.
“I can study you better when you’re not aware of me.”
“Well, I’m aware of you now,” I snap.
Notto chuckles, but he doesn’t move.
“If you’re going to be a fucking stalker, at least sit over there so you’re not breathing on me. Monster breath is gross.”
This time, his laughter is louder. I’m actually impressed that he does as I tell him to. For the record, I have no idea what monster breath smells like. I suppose, like humans, it depends on what you eat.
“Have you figured it out?” I ask.
“Figured what out?”
“Why he saved me?”
“No.” I hear the frown in his voice. “Maybe.”
“What’s your theory?”
“My hypothesis,” he corrects, and I roll my eyes, “is that his monster wants you.”
“Great,” I deadpan. “What does that mean? For a snack? For a slave?”
He snorts. “For breeding.”
My breath punches from my lungs, and I turn my head to look at him. “You realize that human men can’t conceive, right?”
“I didn’t say anything about procreation.”
Ah. I turn my head so I’m facing the pitch black above me and realize I'm still alive. I didn’t die in my sleep. I take silentinventory of my leg, and… It still hurts—a lot—but the pain doesn’t seem to be spreading.
“Are you staying there all night?” I ask.
“Perhaps. I don’t need to sleep. That’s a weakness we don’t share, human.”
“Good for you. Even if my body didn’t require me to sleep, I would still choose to.”
“Why?”
“Because, for at least a few hours, I can escape this hellish world.”
