So Where Are We? It is Weird, Right?

As Clara finishes with the last cherry, you gently touch her wrist, signaling a pause in the playfulness. The morning light filters through the blinds, casting golden stripes across the bed where remnants of whipped cream still cling to your chest.

"I think we need to talk about this," you say, your voice still surprising you with its depth. "About us. What this all means."

Clara sits back, tucking her legs beneath her. The sheet has slipped to her waist, leaving her breasts bare—a sight that affects you differently now, though no less powerfully.

"Yes," she agrees, reaching for a tissue from the nightstand to dab at a spot of cream on her lip. "We probably should."

You prop yourself against the headboard. "I meant what I said last night. Everything I felt as Mia was real. The connection between us wasn't fabricated by the app."

She studies you, her head tilted slightly. "It's strange. I can see you in there—the same expressions, the same little mannerisms. But wrapped in a completely different package."

"Does that bother you?" you ask, your heart quickening.

She considers this, running her fingers through her tousled auburn hair. "I'm not going to pretend it isn't weird. Three days ago, I was suddenly attracted to women—or at least, to Mia. I thought I was having some sexual awakening. Now I find out I was actually falling for you all along."

"And now that I'm back to... this?" You gesture at your male body.

"That's the thing," she says, meeting your gaze directly. "I'm still attracted to you. Which either means I've been bisexual this whole time without realizing it, or..."

"Or?"

"Or it was never about the body at all," she finishes softly. "Maybe it was always about the person inside."

You reach for her hand, relieved when she doesn't pull away. "I discovered things about myself too, you know. Things I might never have understood otherwise."

"Like what?" she asks.

"Like how it feels to be desired that way. How it feels to connect with someone without all the male ego bullshit getting in the way." You stroke your thumb across her knuckles. "And specifically, what it felt like to be with you—to see that look in your eyes when you came."

Clara's cheeks flush, but she doesn't look away. "You know things about me no one else does."

"And you've seen me transform from one body to another right before your eyes," you counter. "I'd say we're even."

This draws a laugh from her. "So what happens now? Do we just... date? Like a normal couple?"

"Is that what you want?" you ask.

She shifts closer, her thigh pressing against yours. "I think I want to try. But slowly. This is uncharted territory for both of us."

"Slower than going from strangers to naked in bed within 48 hours?" you tease.

"Much slower," she says, though her fingers trail up your arm. "Though I suppose we've already seen each other naked, so that ship has sailed."

You cup her cheek, turning her face toward yours. "Clara, I care about you. As Matt, as Mia—doesn't matter. That's the one constant in all this madness."

Her eyes soften. "I care about you too. Enough to navigate whatever this is."

When she kisses you, it's deliberate—testing, exploring. Your lips are different now, your jaw broader beneath her palm. But when her tongue meets yours, something familiar ignites between you—a chemistry that transcends the physical form.

"Different," she murmurs against your mouth. "But not bad different."

You pull her closer, your hand sliding down her bare back. "We'll figure it out together."

10:15 | Tuesday 5 August 2025 | David's Bedroom