His place

The cab's leather seats creak softly as we settle in, the partition sliding up with a quiet hum to enclose our space. Kira's thigh presses warm against mine, her fingers still laced through mine, the city's neon pulse streaking across her glasses in fragmented blues and pinks. The driver glances back once, but the weave's subtle nudge keeps his attention fixed on the road, radio murmuring low jazz that blends with the engine's steady rumble. I lean my head against the window, the cool glass grounding the lingering heat from the club, and pull out my phone. The screen glows faintly in the dim interior, the symbiote's interface a shadow overlay in my mind, plotting configurations we haven't explored yet.

"Yours or mine," Kira repeats my earlier words, her voice a soft echo laced with that post-release rasp. She shifts closer, her shoulder fitting neatly against my arm, the scent of her, sweat and something faintly metallic from the club's haze, mingling with the cab's recycled air. "We need space to test this. Shared targets, proxy flows. No distractions."

I nod, thumb already tapping out a quick text to Tessa. The words come deliberate, laced with the command that binds her still. Meet me at my place. Now. Door unlocked. The message sends with a soft whoosh, the symbiote threading the urgency into it like an invisible hook. Tessa's last interaction pulses in the app's ledger. Oath fulfilled, devotion etched deep, but lingers from that compounded trust with Elena. She'll come, compelled by the fire I kindled, though the late hour means she'll take time, weaving through the city's veins from whatever shift or shadow she's in. Enough to give us the apartment's quiet first.

"Mine," I decide aloud, pocketing the phone. "Closer, and it's set up for... experiments." The cab turns onto familiar streets, headlights cutting through the drizzle-slicked asphalt, the building's outline emerging like a sentinel against the pre-dawn sky. Kira hums approval, her free hand trailing absently along my knee, not insistent but exploratory, as if mapping the new resonance between us. The shared reservoir hums in tandem now, her amps bleeding into mine. A subtle amp to charisma, a flicker of weave efficiency that makes the air between us feel charged, anticipatory.

We pull up to the curb, the meter clicking to a stop. I pay with a scan of my phone, the symbiote smoothing the transaction without a ripple, and we step out into the chill. Kira shivers lightly, pulling her jacket tighter as we climb the stairs. No elevator tonight, the building's hum quiet in these hours. My key turns in the lock with a familiar click, the door swinging open to reveal the dim living room, unchanged since the rushed morning with Elena and Tessa's lingering presence. The couch still bears the faint imprint of that blanket, the air holding traces of coffee and citrus shampoo.

Kira steps inside first, flicking on a lamp that casts warm pools across the worn furniture. She shrugs off her jacket, draping it over a chair with efficient grace, her cropped shirt clinging to the subtle curves of her shoulders. "Cozy," she says, a teasing lilt in her voice as she surveys the space. Pizza boxes long cleared, but the intimacy of it all evident in the scattered books and half-empty mugs. I close the door behind us, locking it softly, the symbiote's awareness expanding to scan the hall empty, Tessa's approach a distant blip on the horizon, minutes away at least.

We move to the kitchenette, the linoleum cool underfoot. I pour water into glasses, handing one to her, our fingers brushing with that now-amplified spark. "Tessa's on her way," I explain, voice low as we lean against the counter, the city's faint hum seeping through the window. "Fully bound. She'll serve as our test subject. Proxy her through the intimate link, see how the control shares without overlap or drain."

Kira sips her water, eyes narrowing thoughtfully behind her glasses, the flush from earlier fading into a focused glow. "Smart. No risks yet. We map the reservoir first. How much it holds before feedback loops in." She sets her glass down, stepping closer, her hand finding my waist with a possessive ease that wasn't there before the binding. The air thickens subtly, not with demand, but with the potential of it, our breaths syncing in the quiet. Outside, a car passes, but inside, it's just us, the wait for Tessa stretching like a deliberate pause, building toward whatever weave we'll unleash.