I took a quick glance in the mirror in the living room and ran a hand through my freshly washed hair. My breath came faster than I wanted it to, and box breathing didn’t help. I’d found the dress online – at one of the few truly neurodivergent-friendly stores – with soft, light material that didn’t irritate my skin and still hugged my body’s shape. The deep sapphire blue was a color I wouldn’t usually pick – but I’d been wanting to wear something that matched my eyes ever since Zafyra mentioned their color.
My breath hitched involuntarily when I opened the door.
Zafyra had always been stunning, but tonight, she genuinely stole my breath. Her dress, gleaming black with deep red accents, was tight above and loose below the waist, pooling at her feet. The split on one side ran all the way up to her hip, revealing a tempting glimpse of bare skin.
“You’re early,” I forced out, licking my dry lips. I couldn’t stop my eyes from raking over her body, taking in every inch. “Dinner is almost ready.”
Her full lips curled into that characteristic smirk that turned my legs into pudding. “We can also skip to dessert if you’re thirsty,” she purred. She slowly eyed me up and down and hummed softly in approval.
Something fluttered low in my body, but I resolutely shook my head.
“No, I don’t want us to jump into sex this time. Not before we’ve talked.”
Her smirk faltered slightly. I could tell she was not expecting this – last time, I was more than ready to drop to my knees when she as much as batted her eyes. My cheeks flushed at the thought, so I quickly turned to walk toward the kitchen.
Zafyra followed me, her heels softly clicking on the tiles. “Interesting,” she murmured, dragging her fingers over the polished ebony table. “I’ve been here so many times, but never in a physical form.” Her gaze rested on the shattered flatscreen. She clicked her tongue. “I’ll replace that one.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shrugged. “I never used it anyway.”
Zafyra had been more than ready to move in with me, but I insisted she get her own place. I’d offered to let her crash for a couple weeks as she got used to the new world, but when she realized I was serious, she quickly figured something out for herself – a pretty luxury apartment, too, in the same neighborhood as Joey. Part of me wondered where on earth she found the money to get her own place so soon, another part of me would rather not know.
She inhaled deeply when we entered the kitchen. I couldn’t suppress a smile at the smell of baked mushrooms.
“I’m making something you can eat.” I gestured to the pan, a bit too enthusiastically – Zafyra ducked just in time to avoid being hit in the head. “I’ve done a bit of research on mushrooms, and they’re actually so nutritious. Did you know there’s many types of mushrooms, and they’re all beneficial for different purposes?” I pointed to the pan. “So here we have shiitake, champignons, and also rarer kinds, like…” I paused. “Is it okay?”
“Yes.” She blinked slowly before a careful smile broke through. “It’s just… so sweet. You doing all of this for me… I wasn’t expecting this.”
I raised my eyebrows. She looked away.
“I thought you were so certain I needed you,” I teased. She rolled her eyes.
I quickly resumed my explanation of the gastronomy, because that was safe territory for us both. “So I’ve tried to make this a fully nutritious meal by including some vegetables, like kimchi and tempeh – easy to digest. I’m not just feeding you bland mushrooms, but mushrooms with a lot of delicious spices, like cumin and…” My eyes widened. “Wait, I just realized something.” I swallowed thickly. “Your body is basically… made of mushrooms, right? Would this feel like eating your family?” I eyed my creation in the pan, feeling my confidence seep away.
I glanced back up when Zafyra’s laugh filled the kitchen.
I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could get a word out, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms tightly around me. After a brief hesitation, I relaxed into her grip, once again surprised by the softness of her skin.
“This is all so thoughtful, cinnamon,” she murmured into the crook of my neck – causing goosebumps all over my skin. “And to answer your question – no, I do not feel like we’re eating my family.”She chuckled slightly and pulled away, as if my embarrassment was greatly amusing to her. “In fact, I’m still getting used to… this. Having a physical body.” She frowned, stretching out her arms in front of her. “Feeling connected to other living beings. Did you know mycelium networks communicate with each other underground, sending and receiving data?”
I nodded.
“Of course you do – I bet you’ve spent the past few days researching fungi and mycelium networks like the adorable flustered nerd you are. So when we were at the greenhouse, surrounded by potted fungi, I could… feel them. And yes, those mushrooms in your indubitably delicious recipe – I can feel them too, even though they’re no longer alive in the classical sense. They don’t feel pain,” she added quickly upon seeing my horrified expression. “But I can feel the nutrients they store. I went on a walk through the forest per your advice, and I could feel them – transferring information about how much water they needed, the ground temperature. It was beautiful,” she said quietly. “For the first time, I felt like I was part of something bigger. So you don’t have to explain how they work, although you’re welcome to, because I like when you do.”
She frowned slightly. “And it’s… changed the way I look at the world.” Her obsidian eyes met mine, and once again, I felt like she was looking for my confirmation – like she needed me to be her moral compass when her own was lost. “I used to register things, but now… I feel them. I no longer observe this world, I’ve become a living, breathing part of it. Though I can only feel the fungi, not the animals or the… humans.”
I nodded slowly. I swallowed hard, gathering my courage to ask the question I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to. “How has it changed?” I asked softly. “Now that you feel connected to this world, has it changed your views on what it means to take a life?”
Zafyra inhaled deeply. “You want to know if there will be more murders.” It wasn’t a question.
I lowered my gaze.
She sighed. “It’s a part of my programming. Even with free will, even with this funginoid body, that doesn’t just change.” Her gaze darkened, and I hated how my heart skipped a beat. “You’re mine, Morgan. If someone lays hands on you or threatens you, my instinct is to eliminate them. It’s strong, maybe stronger than this free will. Itgnaws at me from the inside until it threatens to spill over if I don’t act on it.”
She tried to meet my gaze, but I deliberately avoided it, struggling to keep my emotions under control.
“That’s not okay, Zafyra.” I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to meet her eyes – nothing but darkness. “I can’t date a murderer, especially not one who murders innocents. Your instincts, no offense, are clouded by emotions. Joey is innocent. Nola…” I swallowed the emotions that threatened to spill over. “…Nola was innocent, and so were her husband and kids. You took her from them because you were jealous. That’s not okay. None of that is fucking okay.” I couldn’t keep the tremble out of my voice.
Zafyra said nothing, although her stern expression faltered slightly. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
