Just Stay

By the time Evan stepped into the master bedroom, the clock had just tipped past two.

The room felt different. Not just because it was his, theirs, now. Not just because of the quiet, or the dim light from the bedside lamp.

Because of her.

Stacy sat on the edge of the bed, exactly where he hadn't expected her to be.

Flannel Christmas pajamas. The same ones she'd been wearing when she'd knocked on the door. Loose. Covered. Safe. Hands clasped tightly in her lap, fingers interlocked like she was holding herself together by **** alone. Shoulders slightly hunched. Breathing just a little too fast.

Colour had crept into her cheeks. Not the soft kind. Something deeper. Brighter.

Evan stopped just inside the doorway. Guilt hit immediately. Hard.

"Listen," the word came out faster than he intended, like if he didn't say it now, he might lose the nerve entirely. "I'm... I'm sorry. Honestly. About everything."

No response. Not even a glance. Still, the words kept coming.

"I shouldn't have bought the potion. Shouldn't have brought it home. None of this should've happened to you." His voice tightened slightly. "You and I, we've never gotten along, but you didn't deserve any of it."

Silence. Her breathing stayed uneven. Eyes fixed somewhere ahead, unfocused. A flicker of uncertainty moved through him.

Was she angry? Of course she was angry.

"I didn't know," he added, quieter now. "About the nights, I mean. About how bad it gets. The pain... it's..." A short, humourless breath. "It's horrible. I don't know how you handled it."

Still nothing. The weight of it pressed in, thick and uncomfortable.

"Maybe we could..."

"Evan."

The interruption came low and strained, cutting clean through his sentence. He stopped immediately.

A beat.

"Can you just stop talking and get into bed?"

Not sharp. Not biting. Just tired. Still, there was something underneath it, though. Something he couldn't quite place.

Evan hesitated for half a second, then nodded, even though she wasn't looking at him.

"Yeah. Okay."

The words came out more slowly. Carefully. Like he was trying not to make anything worse.

As he moved around to his side of the bed, the familiarity of it hit in an unexpected way. His side. The thought slipped in so easily it barely registered before it settled.

That wasn't his. Hadn't been his. But now...

Now it was.

A quiet discomfort flickered in his chest as he reached for the extra pillows stacked nearby, instinct kicking in. The barrier. The space. Something to make this feel less close. Safer. For her. One pillow landed between them.

Before he could reach for another, Stacy's hand shot back without warning. Fingers closed around it. A quick, almost irritated motion, and it was gone, tossed off the bed like it didn't belong there at all.

"Leave it," she muttered, already shifting under the covers, turning onto her side, back to him. "No pillow-wall tonight."

Evan blinked. Confusion flared, sharp and immediate.

"Okay," he said anyway, even though nothing about this made sense.

Carefully, he eased down onto the mattress, keeping close to the edge, as much distance as the bed would allow. Body rigid. Mind racing.

The lamp clicked off. Darkness settled over the room. For a moment, nothing happened. Just the quiet sound of breathing.

Eyes closed slowly, exhaustion finally starting to pull at him now that he was here. Now that the rule, the one that **** them to sleep in the same room, had been satisfied. Maybe he'd finally sleep. Maybe, despite it being a short night, he'd wake up feeling refreshed like he had that morning.

Then...

Movement.

Subtle.

Barely there.

Evan's eyes opened again instantly, staring into the darkness. A shift of fabric. A faint rustle of sheets. Before he could react, before he could even process what was happening, warmth pressed back against him.

Stacy. She'd moved. Crossed the space between them. Her back settled against his chest, her rear against his groin, body fitting into his as if it had done it a hundred times before. Natural. Familiar. Intentional. Everything in him went still.

Don't move. Don't react. Just stay.

Her body was warm. Soft.

A sharp awareness spread through him, every point of contact lighting up in a way that made it difficult to think straight. This wasn't like last night. Not the same. Not the same at all. She was still dressed the same way. Flannel. Covered. No hint of that other version the magic had pushed before.

Which meant...

She wasn't asleep. Or at least not fully.

Evan swallowed, throat dry.

"What are you..." he started, then stopped himself.

No.

Don't push. Don't make this worse.

So he stayed still. Focused on breathing. In. Out. Ignore the situation. Ignore the proximity. Ignore the fact that this was Stacy. Don't become aroused.

Then...

Another shift.

Smaller.

Subtler.

But unmistakable.

Her breathing changed. Faster now. Shallower. A tension entered her body, a restlessness that pressed back into him in uneven waves. He began to sense movement, as if a small part of her was making tiny motions, just enough to send tremors into the mattress.

Evan frowned slightly in the dark. Something was off. Not pain. This wasn't how someone reacted to pain.

"Stacy," he whispered carefully, keeping his voice low, cautious. "You okay?"

For a moment, nothing.

Then, breathless, "Just... don't. Don't talk."

The words came out uneven. Strained. Not angry. Something else entirely. Confusion deepened. Concern followed right behind it. Something was happening. Something he didn't understand.

Before he could ask again, her hand reached back, finding his without hesitation, like she already knew exactly where it would be. Fingers closed around his.

Firm.

Guiding.

His breath caught as she pulled his arm forward, over and around her body, pressing his hand against her chest, holding it there.

Evan froze. Every thought in his head scattered at once. What? What is happening? This didn't line up. Didn't make sense. Hours ago, she could barely stand to be in the same room as him.

Now...

His pulse hammered in his ears.

"Stacy..." he started again, quieter this time, uncertain.

"No," she breathed, sharper now, almost pleading. "Just... stay."

The movement he'd sensed before began to increase in intensity, causing the mattress to shake slightly. His eyes went wide in the dark room. Was she touching herself? Was Stacy masturbating?

And just like that, the pieces didn't just click into place, but they also shifted.

It was the magic.

Not like before. Not a silent change while they slept, but the magic nonetheless. It had to be.

Stacy hadn't been subject to the pain of sleeping alone. She'd been given the curse he'd had two nights earlier. Arousal. How many times had she drifted off and been woken by intense need? Evan remembered being tempted to do anything to find relief, but refusing to give in, refusing to let the magic have its way with him.

And so the magic had tried a new way. Another way of forcing things. A shift in strategy.

That seemed to be working.

Her body tensed suddenly against his. A tremor ran through her, small at first, then stronger, building in waves he could feel through every point of contact.

Evan's hand instinctively tightened slightly on her breast, not out of intent, but reflex.

"Hey," he started, concern breaking through the confusion.

Then...

His name. Soft. Barely there. And then stillness.

All at once.

The tension drained out of her like a switch had been flipped. Her body went slack against his. Breathing slowed. Evened out.

Quiet.

Evan didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't think.

Seconds stretched.

Then, carefully, gently, her hand reached back again, guiding his away this time. Setting it back against the mattress like it didn't belong where it had been.

A pause.

Then, barely audible, "Thank you."

The words were soft. Sleepy. Already drifting. She shifted away from him, inch by inch, returning to her side of the bed like nothing had happened. Like none of that had happened.

Within moments, her breathing deepened.

Steady.

Peaceful.

Asleep.

Just like that.

Evan lay there in the dark, staring up at the ceiling he couldn't see, body still locked in place. Heart racing. Mind spinning. What the hell was that? No answer came. Only silence. And the overwhelming, impossible reality of it all pressing down on him at once. Because whatever the rules were, whatever the magic wanted, it wasn't done with them yet.