Yes. I will do what she wants.

You shrug. “As long as we don’t get in trouble, I don’t see the harm in going again.”

She smiles, relieved. "Good."

Getting into an altercation in Billings was the last thing you wanted. The people had notoriously low tolerance to ****, especially from outsiders. You once saw a mob of people beat a caravan guard half to **** when he snapped at one of their own for stepping on his toes.

"Let's just stay under the radar again. Just go out for a meal and maybe go around Billings for a bit," Flora says. "I just want to be around other people."

You have plenty of reason to argue with her last statement, but you don't. You need to make sure Flora trusts you enough to do your job.

...

Once again, you take Bill. The cold doesn’t seem to have bothered him that much, but you figure if it continues to get any colder you’re either going to end up selling him to Billings or finding a way to keep him from dying above ground. The gentle ride in was not interrupted by either choice of subject or pestering city guards. They let you in with no more than a single glance. Flora’s friendly/clean appearance negates all negative thoughts and ideas, even with someone who looks as rough and beat as you. You’re about to go to the same spot as before, but she grabs the reins and guides Bill further down the street.

“Let’s go someplace instead.” She protests, yanking the leather completely from your hands. Bill snorts and quickens somewhat, making her pause and wait before she continues. “I want to go somewhere different.”

Bill seems to listen to Flora’s demands. Before long, he breaks into a trot, bringing you to the center of the city. “Heeey, slow down.” Flora’s moves, tugging on the reins to adjust his speed again. You both look around, seeing a wide variety of shops and buildings, as well as characters and guards. There are different smells here which are more inviting than the ones at the gates. You couldn’t recall this when you first traveled through. It also seems much more lively and interactive; more civilized and grounded.

Flora continues to survey, looking around as she manages Bill. She tugs left and right, bringing him close to the windows so she can peer inside. After about a dozen attempts to find what she is looking for, you stumble over a smaller store that provides coffee, pastries, club sandwiches and salads… the store looks humble and bears the name QUIKKI'S STOP.

“Let’s go here,” Flora says.

… “Quikki’s…?” You did not recall seeing this before either, but you didn't exactly look around Billings that much during your stay. There was a good chance you missed it all together.

“Yeah.” She quietly mutters.

You follow her inside after securing Bill to a nearby hitching post. You slip into the store and are greeted by a sweet smell. It isn't candy, you quickly concur, but more like a nostalgic scent of a long-passed memory that highlighted breakfast with mom. While your mind spun with blurry faces, you looked around, unexpectedly admiring the interior of the building. It was as warm as it was welcoming. There are taxidermy pheasants and foxes along the walls, posed in realistic stances, paintings of cabins trapped in a state of the brightest stage of autumn, a collection of old muskets line the wall that date further back before the war that tore Earth into pieces. The tables, as well as the chairs, were made of real lumber, when you got close to one of them, you could smell the pine radiating from it. Then, in the corner, you saw a Blue Heeler resting with its eyes closed. Flora started to unravel into a conversation with the clerk, ordering for herself as she peered up at the chalkboard menu above. You step away from the dog and regroup with her to order too. All you do is copy what she got.

Your food is served in a brown paper bag, which is crinkly and feels somewhat flimsy. You hid your worry pretty good, but you were sure the bag was going to rip down through the bottom. However, the integrity is better than your prediction, as it holds the contents of your order without fault. In unison, you sit across from each other and open the bag. Warm air escapes the top, brushing your faces with not just warmth, but also the smell of food. Wrapped in parliament paper, a heated sandwich with toasted bread is produced from the sack.

Without any delays, you continue to unintentionally mimic each other’s actions. Bite, chew, swallow, moan. The only time your mirroring finally ceases is when Flora reaches for her cup of water. “This was definitely a good choice.” She sighs.

You clean your teeth with your tongue as you tentatively bite the remaining pieces of food. “It’s good,” you admit.

The bright of her eyes is ignited by the sun as soon as it cuts through the overcast. Again, you find yourself captivated by her. She notices your staring rather quickly and then darts a finger at you.

“Stop staring at me.” Flora glares at you.

You suddenly felt a little warmer. “You look content.”

She looks around and then at you before she narrows her gaze. "I'm not."

"Is it me?"

She nods. "You're not the worst, but you're no where near the best."

She's starting to annoy you now, but your hands are tied. "I'm not trying to be either of those, so you shouldn't strain yourself too much."

"Whatever," she spits, looking around. She leans back and crosses her arms as she rolls her eyes. "You wouldn't understand anyway."

Your expression must’ve darkened, because she blinked and adjusted her staring someplace else shortly after saying that. She looks a little unhinged at first, but corrects herself into a darkened state too. The rest of your meal is spent in silence. You follow her around town for a few hours, but eventually you return to the shelter.

Upon returning, you find that the shelter had been untouched, a good indication that neither your “friends” or any strangers came back during your absence. Flora plops herself back down on the couch and continues her book. It looks to be looking a little thin now, what will she do once she’s done with that?

You sit down too. You continue to field strip and clean your gear. You dry fire and make the slightest of adjustments between your tinkering. There’s more small talk, some more laughs, and then some more silence. Dinner time can’t come fast enough. You burn the time by resting against the wall and closing your eyes, silently thinking to pass the hours until Flora either stirs or wakes you to leave back for Billings.

…

...

“Warren,” Your name is being called. The voice is soft, but you don’t open your eyes. The same voice clears their throat. “Warren!”

This time, your eyes shoot open. You’re outside the shelter and inside a...very nice looking bedroom. You blink and squint. You’re so warm you don’t even want to get out of the covers. You close your eyes and let your head fall back down onto the pillows beneath you.

“...Warren, wake up!”

This time your eyes shoot open and you're bet with a very seductive-looking Flora. You jolt out of the bed, well, you try to, but Flora places her hand on your chest and forces you back..."Watching your whole interaction was pathetic, Warren. FUCKING PATHETIC."

You quickly piece together that this isn't Flora. Instead, you know it's the succubus. You sigh and let your head drop to the pillows. "You were watching?"

"Of course," she rests her head on your chest and walks her fingers along your torso. "Watching my boy-toy getting ignored and bullied was sooo sad!"

A rush of warmth burns over both of your cheeks. "Shut up."

She digs her nails into your skin slightly. "That isn't very nice of you."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh~" she giggles. "Less talking and more fucking? Is that what you want? Or do you want me to piss on you too?"

You groan, but are powerless to do anything. What can you say?

"I'm sorry. That was rude. How about I just let you fuck my brains? Or you let me suck the life out of you through your cock?" Her voice coils around your brain and makes you hard. Visions so vivid fill your mind that you think it's already happening. "Just say the word, handsome~"