These are going to be some very simple pancakes.
You shake your head, glancing at the clock. You’ve got work tonight, but there’s a few hours before you need to get ready. Enough that you could swing by the store and pick up some groceries so you’re not starving when you start your shift.
Maybe you could even take Ziros shopping. Your budget isn’t very big, but he could use at least another change of clothes.
Maybe it’ll even be fun.
* * *
“Wait!” You grab the back of Ziros’ shirt as he heads for the door, pulling him to a stop. “Before we leave, we need some ground rules.”
He swivels, smirking down at you. “Likewhat, little human?”
“Like calling me ‘human’. Definitely don’t do that in public.”
“Why not?” He grins, folding his arms. And you’re pretty sure he’s purposely being difficult.
And why is he so stupidly tall?! It’s hard to judge these things without actually measuring, but he’s got to be even taller than you first realized. Maybe closer to a foot taller than you. And probably taller than anyone you know.
It’s…kinda hot.
Wait, what?
Shush, hormones! Bad hormones.
“You okay?” Ziros shoots you an infuriatingly handsome and slightly evil smirk as he leans down close to your face. He pokesyour forehead, and you swear you feel a zap of warmth from his fingertip.
It’s gotta be the magic linking you together.
Every time you touch, you get this feeling…
Before you get a certain circa-2000s techno hit stuck in your head, he pulls back, shaking his head. “Yeah, you don’t seem okay.”
Oops, the lag in your responses must be making him worry.
Shaking your head, you grab the door handle and mumble, “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Nevermind. Just don’t call me ‘human’ in public and we’re all good.”
He sets one hand on yours, stopping you from opening it.
Another tinglingzapof energy sears up your arm, making you jump.
“Then what should I call you…Anzelika?”
For some reason, just hearing him say that name sends another not-entirely-unpleasant tingle jolting down your spine.
Well then.
“Call me June,” you say, regaining your composure. “That’s my name. The real one—well, the normal one, anyway.”
“Okay,little human.”
“And what should I call you?” Because surely he doesn’t want you to call him by his true name out in public.
To your surprise, he says, “My friends just call me Z.”
“Friends?” You repeat before you can stop yourself.
“Hey, no need to sound so shocked.”
