She reaches for the pad, thrusts it at me. “Explain.”
I do.
Not like this.
Her jaw tightens.“You don’t get to decide?—”
I write again, slower this time, deliberate.
About me. I do.
That stops her.Not because she agrees. Because she recognises the boundary. And I know she’ll respect it, no matter how much she hates it.
I take her face in my hands, steady, grounding. I write one more line and hold it between us.
You want sensation. Not connection. Not yet.
I understand, but I won’t let you use me for that.
Her breath stutters.
She stares at the words for a long moment.
Then she shoves my chest hard enough to splash water onto the tiles.
“Fine,” she snaps. “Then don’t.”
She stands abruptly, water streaming off her, fury and humiliation twisted together. She grabs a towel, wraps it around herself like armour, and storms past me without another look.
The door slams.
I stay where I am.
Let the water cool.
Let the moment pass.
Holding a line hurts more than crossing it.
When I finally drain the tub and pull my clothes back on, I can already hear voices in the other room – lower now. Careful.
Honey’s voice. Steady.
Good.
It can be Honey’s turn now.
And if he does this right, she won’t even realise she’s stabilising until she already is.
EXCELLENT AT NONSENSE
Mine - Sleep Token
Honeymonster
When Kayla comes back into the room, she looks like she’s been scraped raw.
Not bleeding. Not broken. Just…overstimulated. Like every nerve is still switched on and no one’s told them where to send the signal next.
