29. Midnight
Midnight
I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember getting on the bike, or the ride back to campus. I don’t remember how I got passed Obidiah on the campus gates or Vetch on House Inferos.
I blink and I’m back in my body, present in a way that makes me lean against the door frame and retch all over again. But there’s nothing left in my guts, so all I do is dry heave. The door opens. I’m barely conscious.
I’m no longer sure what’s real.
Thaddeus is here.
I killed a man.
I saw the Celestial Realm.
The man was old and sweet and had a good life. He made a bad choice getting into bed with Ignatius. But I wanted to help him. I wanted to keep his last truth and carry it with me to the dark. It’s dark now. Or maybe it’s morning.
Something is wrong with me.
I’m not okay.
Why aren’t I okay?
There’s a thud.
My head hurts.
The door swings open. “I killed him.”
“Who?” Bastien says.
“An innocent.”
There are several gasped breaths and then I’m in arms. They’re warm, and strong. I think it’s Bastien. But they’re too soft for him.
“Lucy,” I breathe.
But that’s stupid. Lucy is imprisoned. I’m hallucinating again. Was I poisoned? I think I was poisoned.
It’s bright now. Like when you’re going into the bathroom in the middle of the night and forget it’s dark and switch on the light.
I squint.
“I love Lucy,” I mumble. “I made a really bad decision.”
“I know, stop talking,” the voice says. It’s soft and sweet and I want to eat it.
“I failed. Why did I let Ignatius convince me? She hates me, Lex,” I say.
“She doesn’t hate you.” I swear it’s Lex who says that, but the voice’s owner has long hair and red streaks.
Lucy has red streaks.
This isn’t real.
Lex just had hers freshly braided.
“I’m tired,” I say.
Someone is taking my clothes off. I’m in my sports bra and boxers. The bath is running.
“I’m naked.” I giggle like it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever said.
“Is she drunk?” That’s Bastien. His voice is deeper than everyone else’s and coming from outside the room.
“I don’t think so,” Lex says.
Yes. That was definitely Lex.
I come to suddenly. There’s two women in the bathroom with me. Shit gets real really fucking quick.
I suck in a breath and scramble back, only to realise I’m on the toilet and the cold press of ceramic stings my flesh.
But it’s what I need, it grounds me.
I glance from Lex to Lucy and back again. Once. Twice. Three times.
She’s still stood there.
“Bastien?” I say.
“Yes?” He doesn’t come in, probably trying to salvage whatever is left of my dignity.
“Is this real?”
“Yeah, Midnight.”
“What did you give me to eat last night?”
“Chicken and avo bagel?”
Okay, this is real, he did do that.
“Bas?”
“Yeeesss?” he drawls the word as if he’s rather bored of this conversation.
“Is Lucy standing in the bathroom?”
Lucy’s face crumples, pity seeping into the lines. Her eyes softening.
“Yeah, boo. She escaped.”
“So… so this is real? You’re really here?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.
She nods. “I’m really here. Ignatius and I fought. He’s in chains now.”
I leap up from the toilet and then I’m falling, falling, falling.
I don’t know how long I’m out for but it’s long enough that by the time I wake, the crusted blood all over my face and arms has been cleaned and I’m in fresh pyjamas and in bed.
But the most comforting thing of all is that there’s a warm body next to me.
“Lucy?” I whisper.
She rolls over. “Hey…”
“Hey…what happened to you?”
I wince, my hands trembling under the covers. She wraps hers around me until I stop.
“There was this sweet old man I was supposed to reap. But he…” Bile claws at my throat.
I run to the bathroom to puke, but nothing comes out. I flick the tap on and slurp some water trying to wash the memory away. I scrub my hands with soap, and even though there’s no blood, I swear the water turns pink anyway.
Lucy appears. “Stop now,” she says, turns the tap off, pats my hands dry and guides me back to bed.
When we’re tucked up, I try again.
“Magic is fucked. I had to reap him, but my scythe beheaded him instead. It’s never done that. I didn’t think it worked like that.”
“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.” She cradles me against her until my body eases.
There are so many things we need to say to each other. The last time we saw each other she didn’t say a word to me. The time before that she was screaming how much she hated me. And now she’s lying in my bed, her hands sliding through my hair.
“I’m so, so, so—” I start, but she places her lips over mine and everything silences. All the things I know we’ll need to talk through silenced by the warmest kiss I’ve ever had.
She grips me like she’ll never let go and my entire body deflates in relief.
She eases back. “I’m sorry, you’re exhausted. You passed out in the bathroom, we shouldn’t…”
But I pull her to me, suddenly ravenous. Not for food, but the touch and taste of her. All the pieces of her I can get. I need to devour her. To consume every ounce I can get. Not for control or ownership.
But for love.
I want to cherish her and love on her and make her come so many times she forgets what a fucking idiot I am.
She deepens our kiss. Her fingertips roaming lower, skimming the waistband of my boxers. She’s ferociously hot, the heat seeps into my muscles and fills me.
Her tongue pushes into my mouth. She sucks my lower lip between her teeth and bites down gently. I moan into her. She slips her hand under my waistband and down, down, down until she stops suddenly.
“Can I?”
I hesitate. I want to, gods I want to more than anything. But we also need to talk. We can’t use sex to solve everything.
As if she reads my mind, she says, “I know there’s so much we need to say, but will you let me apologise like this first? Please? I need you, Midnight. All of you. I need to know you’re still mine. That we can fix this.”
I nod, and she plunges her lips over mine.
Our tongues dance, hungry and aggressive. My hand cups the back of her head, drawing her closer. I want more. Need more of her.
Everything else disappears. It’s only Lucy and me. Our touch, our tongues and the way we taste. She slips her fingers through my heat. I’m already wet for her. I moan into our kiss and buck my hips, desperate for more friction.
She focuses on my clit, rubbing in long, lavish strokes. But it’s teasing and building too slowly. I break the kiss and tug her top off.
Her skin glistens. She’s smothered in golden runes; they glow and hum. I lean down and brush my mouth over one. It tingles against my lips and tastes like sunshine and beaches, like forests and the smell of summer flowers. It’s sweet and heady and fucking addictive.
I caress each rune with my lips until I find my way to a nipple. She whimpers as I draw it into my mouth and suck hard, then flick against the tight bud until she’s squirming beneath me.
Her fingers grind to a halt as she pants against me. I release her breast and busy myself taking her pyjama bottoms off.
She reciprocates, pushing mine down my hips, her fingers quickly moving back to my clit. I tiptoe my way down her body and between her legs to find her soaking pussy.
“We both fucked up so bad,” she says, her eyes dull.
“I will spend the rest of my life, however long that is, making it up to you…”
I find her entrance and tease. Her head rolls back as I trace her entrance.
But she’s having none of it and disentangles herself from me to inch down my body.
She opens my legs and sits herself over them, her pussy resting on top of my mound.
She pulls my legs up, tilting my pelvis until my wetness meets hers.
Her core presses down on mine. She shifts, grinding on my cunt.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe.
The slick heat of us both melds together. Warmth, skin, excitement. The pressure of her clit moving over mine sends a bolt of electricity through every fibre of my being.
She moves again, a bigger circle of her hips this time. A fission of pleasure zips through me and settles in my clit.
My hips roll in time with hers. Our pussies rub and glide and grind against each other and we move as one. Our pants in time with the rhythm of our thrusts.
She reaches for her breast, tweaking the nipple, a grin appearing on her face as she stares down at me. It instantly makes my nipples hard.
I rock my hips faster, needing the friction. Sensations course through my body. Skin sliding and grinding and twisting. My clit pulses as the pressure builds and builds and builds.
Lucy pants. There’s a throbbing heat between us, and the sound of wet skin slapping against skin. It’s too much. I am going to blow and it’s too soon. I need more, so I ease off.
“Come sit on Daddy’s face,” I say.
She pouts at me, then grins, her expression devious. “Do you remember saying there’s no image more divine than a woman on her knees crawling for you?”
I lie still, only craning my head up to see her as she gets onto all fours and crawls up my body. My pussy throbs at the sight of her rune-clad body, her breasts hanging free, the glint in her eyes as she watches the goosebumps rising over my skin.
Higher and higher she crawls until she has to shift position and carefully lower herself onto my face.
Fuck, I’ve missed this. Missed her. My fingers slide to her arse cheeks, impatient and needy for her taste.
“Just how hungry are you, Daddy?”
“Fucking starved. Now, give me that pretty little cunt so I can eat.”
She smirks but lowers her pussy onto my mouth, staring down at me from between those two red locks of hair, her eyes glimmering, body glowing with a myriad of runes and pleasure and maybe even a little relief.
I squeeze her cheeks, rocking her forward and back so I can swipe my tongue the entire length of her.
Gods, she tastes divine.
I moan into her cunt as she grinds down on my face. She leans back to reach me, her fingers slipping between my folds.
I lap at her pussy again and again. But I need more. Want every ounce she can give me.
“Oh gods,” she moans, her body tightening, nipples erect as she gets closer and closer to an orgasm.