Chapter 10 Nil #3
He grabs a stack of pancakes from his tray and takes a huge bite, talking around it. “So, real question, how the hell did you do it?”
I raise a brow. “Do what?”
He points a fork at me. “I don’t know how you did it, but you made mirrors hot.”
I choke on my water and cough.
He laughs so loud that a couple of people look over. “You made mirrors hot. You made a sink sexy. You made a whole bathroom kinky.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I say.
“Uh… You absolutely did something. Multiple somethings. Several spiritual experiences. I think I saw god in the steam.”
“Stan.”
“Don’t act shy after last night,” he says, smiling. “You weren’t shy then.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I look out the window to get my face under control. There’s a few birds flying out there. But his reflection’s there too. It’s so faint and blurry, but it captures all my attention.
He taps my ankle under the table with his shoe. So light for how hard my heart’s beating.
“Hey,” he says. “I mean it. You made me feel good. Really good.”
I meet his eyes. He doesn’t look away. That hits me harder than his dirty talk. “It wasn’t one-sided,” I say.
Stan smirks. “I kinda figured.”
He pushes his tray aside and leans on his elbows. His gaze drops to my mouth.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he says, “and we’re gonna need a second shower.”
“You need food,” I say.
“I need you.”
He sits back and takes a sip of coffee, still watching me over the rim. Flirting without talking. He doesn’t know how bad this could get if he doesn’t behave.
“I like you in the morning,” he says. “You’re easy to torment.”
“I’m not easy to torment.”
“It’s very easy,” he says.
I narrow my eyes on him. He beams, satisfied. My eyes take in his. I imagine them rolling back while I bend him over this table. But the day’s still ahead of us. So I eat for now, knowing once the day’s done and I have him back in bed, I’ll show him what happens when he’s so mouthy.
Focused on the food instead, I stuff my face while the mess hall’s noise fades in and out around us.
Someone waves at him from across the room. He waves back, calling them by name. “Hey, Fonz!”
“Told you the name’s Alphonso,” the guy says, walking over. “I’d rather you call me Al.”
“Fonz is a way cooler nickname,” Stan says with a smug smirk.
When Al turns to me, probably looking for my opinion, I only meet his eyes. “Hey, Nil,” he says.
“Hey,” I return, focusing on my plate to let these two talk.
Al moves to the window. “No way,” he says, sounding shocked. “Red Sea swallows. Are you two seeing those birds out there?”
Stan twists in his seat as I glance at the window again.
“Those birds over there.” Al points at the small flock flying through the open sky. “You see ‘em? It’s been, like, two damn decades since anyone’s seen ‘em.”
Stan gasps, gray eyes wide. “Wait, those adorable birds are really called swallows?”
I chuckle quietly behind my coffee cup, while Al scowls at Stan and says, “Yeah, dumbass, grow up.” Al aims his scowl at the window. “Too bad we weren’t allowed to bring in phones. I’d kill for a picture.”
“Too bad,” Stan echoes in a mocking voice. He’s been pouting the second Al threw his insult at him. “And we won’t testify as witnesses. We’ll tell people you hallucinated!”
“Asshat,” Al says, smirking as he steps away. “You two lovebirds enjoy each other.”
“At least I have a date.” Stan sticks his tongue out, while Al walks to the coffee station, cackling to himself. “You’re right! You don’t deserve to be called Fonz!”
Stan’s muttering something under his breath, while I’m still staring at the swallows outside. They’re a little cluster of wings against all that empty space, flying in a loose open triangle.
“Could’ve taken a picture for him,” Stan mutters.
“With what?” I frown. “We weren’t allowed to have phones—”
He grins and pulls a flip phone out of nowhere. “Surprise,” Stan practically sings the word.
My brows draw together. “Why’d you bring one when we weren’t supposed to?”
“What even are rules during an illegal experiment in international waters?” He shrugs, flipping it open. “Besides, I didn’t read the rules, and nobody took this from me. I forgot it was even in there.”
“In where?” I regret the question the second it comes out.
He ignores me and angles the phone out in front of us. “C’mon,” he says. “Proof we saw the legendary Red Sea swallows together.”
“I’m not—”
The flash goes off. I think I blinked. Fuck.
He tucks the phone back into his pocket, like he didn’t just snap a picture of us without my permission. He just goes on talking.
“Can’t believe he called me an ass twice. They weren’t even creative insults.” Stan kicks my foot. “Hey, babe. You with me?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Perfect. Listen to your lovebird rant, babe.”
He looks at the window too, frowning in thought. I’m still blinking the flash out of my eyes.
“So all this got me thinking.” He turns back to me. “Y’know what’s been up my ass lately?”
I roll my eyes, not needing to answer that.
“Okay, perv, get your mind out of the gutter,” he says, but he’s smiling again. “I’m talkin’ about how they don’t make cards for my situation.”
My brows crease. “Cards?”
“Yeah, like if I wanted to buy one for you.” He swirls his coffee, acting suspiciously too casual. “What would it even say? ‘Hey, I’m in love with you, but my mom brainwashed me to be with your sister. Will you want me too anyway?’”
He half laughs, but it dies off at the end. A short laugh slips out of me too, but it trails off when I smile back at him.
His gaze locks onto my mouth. He’s staring. I let him.
“You might not believe this, Stan, but they don’t make cards that say ‘Hi, your mom was the worst thing that ever happened to my family, but yeah, I want you anyway.’”
His fingers tense around the cup. He looks like he might drop it, so I set it down for him.
“Nil,” he says. “What the fuck?”
“It’s true,” I say.
He moves closer, coffee forgotten. “You can’t say things like that,” he whispers, “unless you want me losin’ my damn mind.”
“You asked,” I say with a shrug, sipping my own cup. “You started talking about being in love with me over breakfast.”
He chokes on a laugh. “Oh my god. Are you teasing me or confessing back? I can’t tell.”
“I’m telling you I want you,” I say.
His grin comes back slower this time. “You want me anyway,” he says. “Even with all the crap in my past.”
“Stan, if you want me, even after everything I did…” I lean closer to him too. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same about you?”
His breath leaves him in a rush. His hand comes up like he’s going to grab me, then hesitates halfway. “You’re really gonna say that to me,” he says, “while I probably have pancake crumbs on my face?”
“Yeah.”
He covers his mouth. “You’re killing me,” he says. “I swear to god, you’re actually killing me.”
“I’m literally not,” I say.
“You are.” He takes my hand. “You’re hot and calm and say things like that with a straight face. Do you know how bad that is for my heart?”
My smile stretches. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Okay, you’re the one being romantic and acting like you’re not.”
His thumb finds the inside of my wrist. He rubs small circles there like he’s trying to trace the line of heat he put in me months ago, when he pulled me out of that road and told me I could leave Clo behind.
“You know what this feels like?” he asks.
I look at him. His jaw’s sharp when he smiles so soft. “What…?” I whisper.
“This feels like…” He laughs lightly. “It feels like falling and not hitting the ground.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Course it doesn’t to you,” he says with a shrug. “You did fall and hit the ground.”
My smile disappears. I shoot him a look. He smiles wider, clearly pleased with himself. He grabs my hand and turns it palm up. He brings it to his mouth and kisses it.
My skin pulls tight. I feel it everywhere.
“You’re stuck with me,” he says.
“I know,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me too, Stan.”
He squeezes my hand and keeps looking at me like I’m the only one in the room with him. He’s too happy to hide it. Too bright to be dimmed. Too far gone to pretend this is less than it is. I like it. I might even love it.
I let my eyes rest on him. His hair. His stupid grin.
“It was…nice this morning,” I say.
He lights up. “Oh, waking up after using me as a cocksleeve all night?”
I sigh, looking to the sky for help. Or an intervention.
Instead, my silent prayer goes unanswered, so I shove a piece of fruit into his mouth to shut him up.
***
Stan’s in a good mood when we walk to the MedBay.
He grins at every reflective surface we pass. He keeps brushing his shoulder on mine like he doesn’t notice he’s doing it. He probably doesn’t. He’s been stuck on a high since breakfast.
Part of it’s pancakes. Part of it’s syrup. Most of it’s probably from the quickie detour we took in the closet, where I railed him against the shelves, and he left hickeys across my collarbone.
But now, we’re walking through the sliding MedBay doors. The sterile scent hits me hard. So does the smell of ginger.
“Nil, Stan, hello.” Em raises a brow when we walk in. “You’re rather late.”
Stan grins. “We were busy.”
“Overslept?” Em asks.
“Overslept so hard.”
“So you slept well,” Em corrects, pointing at the flush in his cheeks. “That’s new. I’d like to jot that down.”
She puts her teacup aside to grab her tablet.
Idris walks in from behind the blue curtain, waving at us. “Good to see you two again. How was breakfast? Did I overhear you say you had deeper sleep?”
“My wise prince, it was life-changing,” Stan says. “Nil made mirrors hot.”
Idris deepens his brows. “I’m not too sure I want context to that.”
Em taps into her tablet. “Slept deeply and for longer than previously reported,” she says as she types, “and reflective surfaces were perceived as a heated source.”
I frown, trying to ignore Stan’s giggles. Idris sighs in the middle of a laugh and takes the tablet from Em.