Addiction

Every good drug dealer knew that if there was one cardinal rule to being successful at their line of work, it was that a dealer never ever dipped into their merchandise. No heroin dealer was ever hooked on heroin, no surGen had ever been under the knife, and no Zydrate peddler ever emptied any of the little glass vials into their system. And Graverobber was no exception to that. He dealt the Z, never tried it. But that didn't mean he wasn't an addict. Everyone was in this world, mostly to surgery and Zydrate, and cruelty to a slightly lesser degree. But there seemed to be two people on this entire island, Graverobber mused, who were addicted to something entirely different. Himself, of course, and…her. The little girl, who could have had it all, but gave it up for her freedom and sense of identity. But not so little any more, was she? Ever since she had become his apprentice and allowed him to live with her, the kid (he knew her name was Shilo, but liked to tease her about her age) had been getting impromptu crash courses in the ways of the world while they broke her addiction to her father's medicine. She no longer took any of it, but that didn't mean that she wasn't an addict either.

"Graverobber?" the soft, girlish voice made him look up at Shilo, who was looking at him curiously, dressed in her white nightgown that showed off her long, slender legs and arms. Her hair, now natural, was in short dark curls that ended at her chin, but those dark doe eyes were as enchanting as ever. With a slow smile, he shook his head, dismissing her curiosity and took her hand, pulling her in for a lazy kiss. The gentle warmth soon became passionate flames that enveloped them as Graverobber pulled Shilo on top of him. Who needed Zydrate when they had a much healthier and more long-lasting addiction for just the two of them?