Everything goes black and I return to bed.

Unlike the other times before. There’s no warning before you simply blink out of that reality. Flora is shaking you awake, and she’s telling you to get out of her room before you’re seen in her bed in HER room. You’re hesitant to leave but know it isn’t worth the risk. Once you are dressed, you stumble into the hallway and see the empty area.

Flora pushes you further out of the hallway until you’re in the kitchen. The sky is still dark, but you can see the morning hues starting to bleed into a day. It will be another warm day once the lingering clouds blow away. You peer out through the window and look around. Everything is standing still, and the silence is everywhere. It remains unbroken until Flora sighs and grabs your hand.

“How long are you going to be working with Scarlet?”

“I don’t know,” you tell her, turning to face her. She looks different in the dark. Somehow, the memory of Astrid vanishes, and you almost forget about her entirely, despite the moment you shared with her. “How long did it take her to finish this before?”

Flora grimaces. “Until April.”

“I’ll try to speed up the process then,” you squeeze her hand, but it doesn’t seem to do a lot in the department of comfort. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m terrified that she’s going to get you hurt or that you’ll end up getting killed somehow,” Flora steps close, drawing herself into your arms. “I want to go home, but I want you to be there with me when I’m finally back where I belong.”

She feels fragile in your arms as you hold her. You keep her there in a loose embrace. Your brain bubbles with emotion, but you don’t make any promises to her. You’re both too realistic to be betting on such terms. “I’ll try to keep my head on straight. Don’t forget about yourself, either. You’re in a dangerous position.”

Flora doesn’t reply. Instead, she rubs her face into your shoulder, smothering herself with your scent. “Is Scarlet coming to get you, or do you have to go?”

The idea of seeing Scarlet after leaving her made your stomach churn. You were starting to consider Scarlet as a friend, but after she tried to cuck you, you had different feelings about the girl. Your lungs deflate, and your eyes move away from hers. “I should go, but…”

She cuts in quickly. “If you think going back will stop any trouble, then you should go.”

“Really?”

Flora nods slowly, almost as though she’s regretting her words are about to change her mind. She kisses you on the lips and hugs you tighter. “God damn it. Yes… I am sure. Get out of here before anyone sees you.”

“Scarlet will know,” you frown. “She might tell.”

“Don’t let her then,” Flora swallows at the lump forming in her throat. “Don’t let Scarlet tell anyone you came back. I’m not going to tell anyone about our meeting.”

…

…

Scarlet was in the lobby. She was drinking coffee and was dressed in her black jeans and T-shirt. Her red hair was messy. This was one of the few times you’ve seen her hair down. She looked the same until she turned to face you. Her right eye was black and swollen, and her upper lip was split. The lobby is dark, cold, and practically empty, aside from Scarlet and the bartender.

When you got close enough to Scarlet, you cleared your throat. “What happened to you?”

Her expression is dull. “I killed that guy last night.”

“Didn’t fancy the same kinks or what?”

“He was a contract,” she drank from a mug and sighed while she produced a piece of paper from her side. “**** mule. He was a contract, and you ran off.”

“You said you were going to sleep with him,” you spat.

“I said it was going to be fucking fun,” she shot up straight. “I didn’t say I was going to fuck him.”

Seeing her reaction so harshly surprised you. She poked her finger in your chest as she continued. “All I asked of you is that you listened to me, no questions asked, and you ran off when I told you to come with me.”

You slap her hand away. “Could have just said it. I thought you were drunk–”

“Oh,” she tilts her head to one side, glaring at you. “You thought I was drunk and was going to let me go upstairs with a 10-mutant fuck and have him knock me up with–”

She stops herself. She just shakes her head in dismay. “Whatever. It’s done, and he’s dead. But I’m taking full pay for this contract, got that?”

“I guess that's fair.”

“I guess that’s fair,” she mocks. “...I had him begging at the end, Warren. You should have been there to watch me…”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you know me. I love watching ****.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Scarlet decides in a moment. “Next time, though, if I tell you to go with me, you go with me.”

“That’s a deal,” you soften a bit and consider apologizing. When you see her cut lip and black eye, you grab her shoulder, asking if she’s OK. Surprisingly, she looks at you and grins devilishly.

“I had fun.”

…

...

You return to your room and find everything in disarray. There’s blood on the floor, and the bed covers are gone. You shift your weight uncomfortably as Scarlet strolls, going through her gear. When she doesn’t say anything, you continue to poke around on your own. You suspected the bathroom to be the worst of everything, but incredibly, it isn’t… It’s spotless.

Scarlet slides in beside you and washes her hands nonchalantly, not caring to look at you for even a second. You decide it would be best not to ask any questions. However, you’re still curious about the events that unfolded when you left Tiny’s Tavern. You filter out of the bathroom and collect your gear. She kept all of your stuff untouched during her scuffle with the not-cucker.

When Scarlet lefts the bathroom, she falls into the bed. “I don’t want to leave the Tavern today to do a contract.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want anyone else to see your blackeye.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she propped herself on the bed and looked at you. “Actually, it’s because my dominant eye is swollen shut, and it isn’t worth the risk to go out. You ought to get me some ice.”

“Your fucked up eye warrants a lot for the reputation of the ARS.”

Scarlet nods. “Man, you do catch on quick, don’t you?”

“It’s what gets me hired,” you say with not much emotion.

“Too cool,” Scarlet falls flat to her back and lets out a heavy sigh. “I do need that ice, though.”

Without anything to agrue (or talk about), you go ahead and get some ice for Scarlet while she lays in bed. When you return, you discover Scarlet in the same spot where you left her. Is she sleeping? You poke her thigh with the icebag, and she jerks her leg away from you. “Stop that,” she scowls.

“I have your ice,” you toss it on her stomach, and she takes it in and quickly presses it against her swollen eye—a deep sigh of relief parts of her lips. Scarlet crosses her legs, not offering anything else. “You want anything else, princess?”

“Princess?” Scarlet laughs. “If you’re going to call me princess, can I suspect foot massages from you? I bet you massage Flora’s feet all the time.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t do a lot with Flora.”

“Bullshit,” she laughs a little harder this time. “I bet you slept with her as soon as you got back to the house.”

“No,” your face gets a little warm at this mention of her correct, off-hand guess. You try to change the subject as fast as you can. “You’d want me to massage your feet, though?”

“Oh, you’re a feet guy?”

“...”

“He’s a feet guy,” she says.