Willow's eyes went wide and she turned back to look at the softly crying woman still standing uninvited on the other side of the threshold. "Buffy?" the red-haired witch asked softly. She tentatively reached out, crossing the barrier, and held the silent girl by her upper arms. "Buffy?" she called again, searching the hazel-green eyes that continued to drip with tears. "Is that you in there?"
Present Day"Well I'm not going to invite her in," Cordelia stated sourly, crossing her arms across her chest.
"You don't even live here, girl. It doesn't work that way," Gunn muttered to the former beauty queen.
"W-Willow," the vampire chattered, reaching out to her long time friend, only to find a blurry barrier between herself and the startled demon-fighters. She looked at her fingertips as if the slim digits were a strange, new addition to her body.
"Don't let her in!" Wesley protested from his position behind the reception desk. The Englishman slightly cowered behind the formidable wooden furniture. "It's another one of her tricks!"
"You guys, I can feel her. It's got to be Buffy," Faith insisted as she pushed her way closer to the door. "Someone needs to invite her in."
"It-It could just be a glamour," Willow pointed out reluctantly, taking another step backwards away from the door. "She could have used magic to recreate your Slayer bond." Buffy frowned at the Wicca, clearly injured that her best friend seemed afraid of her.
The redhead's mind spun wildly out of control, a bevy of questions spiraling through her brain: Was this a trick or was it really Buffy? If it really was the blonde slayer, then how had her soul been returned? And if her soul had been returned, did she remember what she had done as a vampire? But more importantly for the Wicca, did Buffy remember how she became a vampire?
Angel stood next to the hesitant witch and gravely folded his arms across his broad chest. "Come in," he growled to the group's surprise. "She's not going to do any damage," he noted out loud. "We have numbers on our side."
"D-damage?" Buffy stuttered, crossing the threshold and rubbing her palms against her upper arms as if trying to generate unnecessary heat. "W-why would I cause damage?" the blonde asked.
She looked around the hotel lobby, surprised to find so many familiar faces, including the Boston girl. Wasn't she supposed to be in prison? And why was Willow in Los Angeles? And why was she in Los Angeles? The last thing she remembered was…
"Cause that's what soulless demons do," Gunn snarled in reply, not abandoning his aggressive stance.
Buffy's step faltered at Gunn's words and her knees buckled, causing her to fall into Angel's arms. While normally the ageless man's embrace felt cold and hard, the blonde was surprised at how natural it felt now. She looked up into the brooding man's dark, searching eyes.
"Soulless?" she repeated quietly before the tears began to fall again.
Angel resisted the urge to hold the blonde tight against his chest and comfort the lost-looking girl. Instead, the stoical man merely helped her back on her unsteady feet. "You do know what you are now, don't you?" he murmured quietly.
Buffy dropped her chin to her chest and shut her eyes tightly, yet the tears continued to squeeze out of her closed lids, falling uselessly to the ground. "I-I can feel it," she mumbled through her choked sobs. "I can feel the demon inside me." She looked up again at her ex-boyfriend. "I'm a vampire."
"H-how could this happen?" the redhead sputtered, still backing away from the blonde vampire uneasily. "You-you just saw her and she wasn't all soul-ful," she pointed out to Angel.The brooding man could only shake his head in disbelief. "I don't know what's going on, Willow," he admitted.
"If you're really Buffy, you'll let me tie you up," Wesley called out, still hiding behind the Hyperion's front desk.
The slayer vampire rolled her eyes at the former Watcher's desperate words, despite the confusion she felt. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard that one," she deadpanned.
Faith tore her eyes away from the lithe form of the new vampire and flashed a desperate look at the redheaded witch. "Red, can't you just like look at her and see if it's really her?" she questioned with emotion.
The Wicca flushed slightly. "T-Tara was always better at reading people's energies than me. I'm just good at chemistry and physics. There is a spell," she noted out loud. "But it'll have to wait until the morning when I can get the supplies I need."
"And in the meantime we just let psycho vampire girl drain us all?" Cordelia demanded, tapping an impatient high-heeled foot on the hardwood floor. She stared defiantly at her employer. "Because I seriously do not get paid enough for this."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Faith blurted out.
All eyes flipped to the Boston girl's face, including two surprised hazel-green eyes.
FlashbackBuffy's POVSuggested Listening: Shakira – "She Wolf"I push through the front entrance of tonight's choice of nightclub. Every night it's the same old song and dance. She leaves her apartment and patrols the local cemeteries like a good little slayer. And then we end up here.
She's even more beautiful when she fights – I'd even say 'breathtaking' if I still breathed. Her body radiates Power and Confidence, even more so than when I knew her in Sunnydale. She's more centered and controlled now when she slays; not as wild and half-cocked. But she was born for Death and Destruction. And it makes me more than just a little turned on watching the way she moves.
After the usual kill-or-be killed routine, she shimmies over to the nearest bar or club. Most nights she just drinks heavily and dances off those excess energies until the sun comes up. But other evenings I'm forced to watch in painful anonymity as she flirts her way into some guy or girl's pants. In fact, tonight seems to be one of those peculiar nights. No sooner had she ordered her first Jack and diet, she was scanning the crowd, looking for her prey. She dusted a handful of vampires earlier, so her hormones must be making her crawl the walls, itching for a different kind of action.
I'm able to sufficiently hide in the shadows of the dimly lit bar, but still have a front-row view to tonight's show from my seat at an out-of-the-way table. I watch her swagger over to a short blonde playing darts with her sorority Sisters. Those dark chocolate eyes seemed to size up the entire bar in one fell swoop before she spotted her target. And they say vampires are predators. Well, watch out for Faith Lehane. I don't know how she does it, but male or female, they all fall under her thrall.
I notice she's more aggressive tonight. She's talking up a storm and flashing those award-winning dimples with abandon. Most nights when her hormones scream louder than her other needs, she lets the sheep come to her. It's that mystery and cool aloofness that pulls them in like brainwashed moths to the dangerous flame. I feel the pull even from my disconnected surveillance.
In no time she's separated the girl from her friends, and it makes me grin for some demented reason. Rule #1: separate the weak ones from the herd.
"Can I get you something from the bar?" a girlish voice asks me.
I turn away from the sorority crowd and look into the face of a redheaded cocktail waitress. Her button nose and high-sweeping cheekbones are lightly peppered with freckles. I size up her modest frame for a moment as she stands expectantly, waiting for my drink order. She's got on a tight miniskirt and even tighter top that struggles to keep her breasts under wraps. You can tell she's customized the t-shirt to help out with tips.
"Tonight's drink specials are $5 well drinks and $4 car bombs," she chirps as she sets a cocktail napkin in front of me.
I shake my head at the young woman. "No, I'm fine," I grit at her through clenched teeth.
The perky smile disappears from her thin lips. "Nothing?" she asks, clearly annoyed that I'm monopolizing one of her tables.
I narrow my hazel-green eyes at her. "I said I'm fine," I snarl in reply.
The girl hustles away, giving me one last glare over her shoulder as she maneuvers to take another tables' order. I can't help the smile that flutters to my lips. It feels like a personal victory. Buffy Summers would have never been that rude to a waitress.
When I look back towards the corner where the sorority girls and Faith had been standing, I notice that Blondie and the Boston girl have conveniently disappeared. She wouldn't have been able to walk out the front doors that quickly without me noticing, which means only one thing – the women's bathroom. I quickly hop up from my stool at the bartop and make my way towards the back laboratories.
I take stock of the restroom as I push through the heavy doors, taking in my surroundings and looking for the elusive slayer. Three vessel sinks sit atop a dark granite countertop. The white tile is remarkably clean for a Los Angeles club and it emphasizes the color of my deep red stilleto'd heels.
As I click further into the bathroom, I see a handful of young women repainting themselves with makeup in front of a long vanity mirror. The hollow sound of laughing and giggling girls makes my right eye twitch. No one should be that bubbly.
I turn the corner and find three bathroom stalls. Two vacant, one occupied. I'm about to turn on my heels and leave, thinking that I've made a mistake, when I hear a low moan coming from behind the closed bathroom stall door.The very low, very feminine groan echoes against the tiled walls and floor and causes the women at the mirror to momentarily cease their chattering. Another quiet gasp comes from the direction of the bathroom stalls and it makes one of the girls giggle nervously.
And then I hear it – the earthy words that make my stomach drop: "Fuck, that feels good."
There's only one girl in all the world with a voice like that.
A girl with dark hair and pale skin snorts from her position near the bathroom mirror. "Sounds like someone is having a good time tonight," she mutters playfully to her friends. The four women grab their handbags and give each other knowing smiles before making a hasty retreat out the bathroom door and back into the club.
I'm left alone in the bathroom with whomever occupies the one bathroom stall. Crouching slightly, I see two pairs of shoes beneath the stall door – heavy, black boots and purple ballet flats. Knowing my own shoes will give me away, I quickly slip out of the heels and pad my way over to the trio of stalls.
"Yeah, right there," the gravely rasp groans again.
I squint my eyes hard and feel the now familiar pressure in my forehead and the bridge of my nose. As my face transforms and my senses become heightened, my nostrils are assaulted with the scent of feminine arousal. But not just of any girl getting turned on. It's Her. It's Faith.
I lean my head forward, slightly nearer to the closed bathroom door. Straining my ears, I can hear the quiet sounds of wet slapping and labored breathing. My eyes go wide and I back up slightly. Some girl is finger-fucking Faith.
My brain commands me to rip the stall door from its hinges and snap off the little slut's fingers for touching Faith. But I've ignored my own body's demands for too long to do anything except get myself off. I quietly shuffle over to the parallel bathroom stall and quietly close and latch the door behind me, careful not to let it creak out loud.
"Yeah, grab my tits," she encourages her stall-mate. "Pinch my nipples," she commands.
If I had a pulse, it would have quickened. If I had a beating heart, it would be throbbing just as much as my clit. Memories of Faith's ample breasts flash through my mind and I imagine rolling her tightened nipples between my cool fingertips.
My right hand slides down the front of my tight leather pants and my fingers pass beyond the thin barrier of my slight lace panties. The wetness has already begun to accumulate on my hairless slit and my fingers slide easily through my heavy arousal. I quietly unfasten the top bottom of my pants and slide the zipper down to grant myself better access.
Instinctively my fingers glide through the sticky, wet cum and I spread it along my swollen lips. My fingertips brush against my clit and it sends a shudder of pleasure through my undead body. Faith groans again and I still my fingers momentarily. The sexy grunts and gasps coming from the stall are going to make me cum too soon. I need to wait. I need to cum with her.
"Fuck me," she commands in her husky voice. "Fuck me harder."
I bite my bottom lip to keep from groaning and being discovered and slide a single digit hard into my cunt. My pussy muscles feel tight and wet around my finger. I thrust hard into my core, easily bottoming out. Each penetration becomes bruisingly harder. I want to fuck myself hard for her. I want to make it ache a little so I can feel her in the days to come.
"Gonna cum…" she moans. "So close."
I hear the other girl's voice for the first time and it almost ruins my orgasm. "You're so fucking hot," the nameless, faceless blonde breathes in reverence of the dark goddess wrapped tight around her fingers. "Cum on my hand."
The bathroom stall next to me shakes a little. I imagine Faith bracing her strong arms against the comparably flimsy material as she nears her climax. I imagine my fingers inside the dangerous beauty, causing her eyes to roll backwards and her strong thighs to tremble.
"Fuck," Faith cries out suddenly. "I'm cumming, Buffy!"
My body tenses and I still the movement inside my pussy when I hear her orgasm. What the hell? Did she just say my name?
"Buffy?" the anonymous fuck shouts angrily. Apparently she's thinking the same thing. "Who the hell is Buffy?"
I hear an uncomfortable cough and then sound of a zipper being refastened. "Don't worry about it," Faith says in her rough, yet velvety voice. "That was great. Thanks, babe, but I gotta go."
She offers no apology. She says nothing to justify or explain what just happened. I hear the bathroom stall click and swing open over the incessant screaming and swearing of her most recent partner. Faith's heavy boots sound hollow as she walks away, and when she pushes through the heavy bathroom door, the mechanical sound of electronica filters into the bathroom, until it swings close again.
I hold an unnecessary breath as the other girl slams her stall door. She storms angrily over to the vessels and turns on the faucet. "Of all the fucking nerve," she growls to herself as she scrubs her hands under the sink. "Screaming some other chick's name."
I wipe my sticky fingers on a scrap of toilet paper and throw it into the open bowl before flushing it down. I hear another string of expletives explode from the other girl when she hears the rushing water. I take the time to zip up my pants and refasten the top button.
When I confidently push open the door to my bathroom stall, I finally have the opportunity to see this girl up close. I walk toward the trio of vessel sinks and eyeball the blonde woman. Her top is so tight, the sorority letters are almost illegible the way they're stretched and morphed over her fake tits. I realize I'm still fucking horny, and completely unsatisfied. I pause momentarily and lick my lips. Perhaps I still will snap off her fingers.
"Jesus Christ," she curses angrily. The water continues to run down the drain as she stands aggressively before me, her hands on her hips. "Have you been in here the entire time?" she demands. "What are you, some kind of pervert?"
I give her a lopsided grin and cock my head to the side. "No, cutie," I sing-song. "I'm Buffy."
Present DayHelp I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender
Come take my pulse, the pace is on a runaway train
Metric – "Help, I'm Alive"
Faith POVAlthough everyone wanted to hear Buffy's story first, the Big Guy reluctantly conceded that research and questioning could wait until the morning. Angel only really agreed to her staying with me until Willow placed a protective spell on the Hyperion, making it impossible for demons to injure humans within the former hotel's walls.
But it has to be her. I can feel our connection vibrating down my spine. I want it to be her. It has to be her.
I'm snapped out of my inner musings when I see Buffy coming outta the hotel bathroom adjoined to my bedroom wearing an oversized t-shirt and cotton pajama pants. Without the leather outfit she showed up in, it makes my heart flutter a little. Sure leather and lace is sexy as fuck, but this is the B I fell in love with all those years ago. Cotton and flannel. Soft and comforting.
She's got her head cocked to the side, toweling off her damp blonde hair with an oversized towel. "I don't think I'll ever get warm," she complains to me as she walks into the main room.
"You're kinda room temperature, B," I remind her with a little grin.
Buffy drops the towel on the carpeted floor and, even from my reclined position on the double bed, I can see those large, salty tears threatening to fall from her eyes. I hop up from off the bed and rush over to her side, silently cursing my dumb mouth. Seeing her quiet anguish, I tentatively reach out and touched my fingertips at Buffy's elbow.
"I-I'm sorry, B," I murmured lowly, not really sure what to say to erase the words that carelessly rushed out of my mouth. "I know this has gotta be wicked hard for you."
"Hard? Hard!" the undead woman chokes out bitterly, shaking her head. "What do you know about hard?" she cries. Her hazel-green eyes flip open and she growls at me, causing me to jump backwards just a little. "I'm dead, Faith!" the Californian shrieks. "But more specifically, I'm a vampire. I'm what you and I were created to destroy."
The small blonde shakes with anger. "Mirrors! I'll never be able to look at myself again!" she despairs manically. "And let's not forget that I'll never be able to go to the beach ever again. I'll have to resort to fake spray-on tans, and those just never look natural. I'll be like a giant, blonde carrot."Seeing her distress and acting on instinct, I throw my arms around Buffy and hug her slight frame tight against my own body. "It's gonna be okay, B. We'll figure something out," I murmur into her slightly damp hair. I don't know if the words that tumble so easily from my mouth are true. But I hope they are.
Buffy abandons herself to my comforting embrace and nuzzles her nose into the crook of my neck. Her skin feels cold, but her sudden proximity has got me all kinds of hot. "Uhn, you're so warm," she breathes. She buries her face into my neck and I swear I hear her purr contently.
I jump backwards as if B's touch has electrocuted me. The last time I let her get that close, I ended up in the hospital. Every time I let her get that close, now that I think about it, I end up in the hospital. So why do I keep coming back for more?
B looks immediately embarrassed. "God...I-I'm sorry, Faith," she murmurs under her breath. "I don't know why I did that." She casts her eyes to the ground, looking guilty. "I guess I just miss the warmth," she admits to me. "Am I supposed to get used to how cold this feels?"
"It's okay, B," I rush out. "Don't worry about it." I feel rattled to the bones by the aggressive and intimate touch, but not wanting Buffy to feel uncomfortable, I change the subject quickly. "What do you remember? About how you became a...a vampire? I mean, do you remember anything?" I ask.
I ask, even though I basically know the answer. B once confided in me that when Angel's soul had returned just before she had been forced to kill him to save the world, he initially hadn't realized that Angelus had been back. He didn't realize how much time had passed. He didn't remember things like stalking Buffy as she slept or killing Jenny Calendar until later. I need to know, however, more than anything else, if B remembers our night together at my apartment.
Buffy sits down on the edge of the bed and scrunches her face up. "I remember being in Sunnydale," she starts slowly. "I was fighting a group of demons near one of the cemeteries. I was losing pretty badly," she admits with a wistful sigh. "And then…nothing."
"Nothing?" I ask, partly relieved and partly curious. "Nothing afterwards?" I prod as I take a seat on the bed as well.
"Afterwards?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. I feel my heartbeat quicken as I scoot a little closer, and I'm sure it doesn't escape her notice. I swear I see her smile a little.
"You know – when you died?" I clarify nervously. I tug a little on my loose hair and pull it behind my right ear. "Was there a big white light? Did you see your whole life flash before your eyes?"
Buffy hesitates. "Y-yes. All that stuff. But if it's okay with you, I-I don't want to think about it. I think I've died too many times for one person."
"I'm sorry, B," I frown guiltily. "I keep forgetting that dying is old hat to you. You're like a pro at it by now."
The blonde goddess sighs sadly and nods. "The next thing I remember was waking up tonight. Here…in LA." Her eyes narrow in concentration. "And somehow, I knew immediately…about…about what I am now." Buffy looks down at her hands and bites her bottom lip. I can tell she's futilely trying to hold back the tears. She's cried enough for one day.
I lean back against the bed frame and cross my long legs. "So what's it feel like to be a vampire?" I ask, trying to lighten this situation or something. I pull my heavy boots off my feet and throw them into a corner of my small bedroom. The chunky shoes knock against the plaster wall loudly and leave a black mark in their wake. I don't exactly know how to make B feel better about this, but I'm gonna try my damn-dest.
"Well…I haven't been doing it that long," Buffy points out. "So I'm not exactly an expert." She scratches at her head. "I guess the biggest thing," she starts, shaking her head slightly and narrowing her eyes in thought, "is the hunger. I just…I don't know…I'm so aware of all the blood around me."
She nods in my direction. "Like, I can practically hearyour heart beating. I can almost see the blood flowing through your arteries and veins." Buffy's stomach suddenly growls loudly and she grabs at her abdomen with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she apologizes with a sheepish smile. "I guess I never realized even just talkingabout blood would make me so hungry."
"I could see if Angel has any blood in the kitchen?" I offer quickly, moving to get up off of the bed. "You'd be surprised how good I've gotten at getting it the right temperature."
Buffy shakes her head and stops my exit. "No. I don't want to be a burden to Angel anymore than I already am." She pushes out a long, sad sigh between her slightly parted lips. "This has got to be pretty weird for him, don't you think?" she muses aloud. "His ex-girlfriend is now suddenly just like him? A vampire with a soul?"
I stare at her for a moment before dropping my head. I'd never thought about that before. "Yeah," I mumble, turning my gaze away from the girl who's managed to break my heart more times than I'd like to remember. "Guess you guys can have that Happy Ending you've always wanted."
When I feel her cool hand grasping my own sweaty palm, I turn my attention back to that painfully angelic face. She's so beautiful, I have to squint.
"I don't want to be with Angel anymore, Faith," she insists quietly. The words make my stomach do summersaults, but I don't want to let myself hope for anything more than this. "That ship sailed a long time ago. I hope you don't think it's going to be like that." She hesitates meaningfully before continuing. "I hope you don't think I'm going to choose Angel over you again."
We stare intensely at each other, neither one of us moving or saying a word when B's stomach is growling again, this time more loudly. "Sorry," she grimaces. "Guess that hunger's not gonna go away."
I want her to know that I trust her. I want her to know how I feel. "You could…you know…always have some of mine…." I trail off.
At my words, B's hazel-green eyes widen. "No!" she exclaims, jumping up from the bed and away from me. I instantly miss her proximity. "I-I could never…you want me to feed off of you?"
"I'm sorry, B," I apologize, embarrassed to have made the suggestion. "You're right. It's a bad idea. Forget I said anything. You shouldn't get in the habit of drinking human blood, anyway."
Buffy closes her eyes tightly. "Can we just go to sleep now?" she grimaces. "This all feels like a bad dream."
"Of course, B. Fuck, I'm sorry." I rake my fingers through my chaotic tresses. "Sorry is like my middle name or something. I just keep fuckin' up tonight, huh?"
She gives me that little lopsided smile she's perfected over the years and fuck if I don't wanna jump her bones or just hug her to death or something. Fuck, I'm in trouble. She's already dead.
"I'm glad you're here, Fai," she whispers, almost shyly. "I don't honestly know how you're out of prison," she points out with a quiet chuckle, "but I'm really glad you're here."
I can feel my face slightly flush from her admission, and it's makin' me all kinds of uncomfortable. How come she always makes me feel softer than a marshmallow?
"We should get to bed," I grunt.
After one more devastatingly adorable smile, she gives a curt nod and busies herself with the task of climbing into my bed. I suddenly realize I still have to change into pajamas and am now faced with the dilemma of where to do it. If I take my bed clothes into the bathroom, she might think being around her makes me uncomfortable (which it does). But if I strip down in front of her, she's gonna think I'm still the slutty slayer (which I kinda am).
"Fuck it," I mutter under my breath as I pull my top up over my abdomen, past my bra encased breasts, and off my head. I've got on one of those convertible bras, so just the top half of my chest is threatening to spill out.
Even though I'm not lookin' in her direction, I can feel those addictive green eyes trained on my body. I wiggle my tight pants down my hips and thighs and quickly step into my boi shorts. I can tell she's trying to do the prude, innocent Buffy thing, but she keeps ogglin' the goodies like I'm a delicious piece of meat. Fuck, I hope she doesn't eat me tonight.
Get your head outta the gutter. Of course I wouldn't mind that.
When I finally build up enough courage to look at her face, she's not pretending to avert her eyes anymore. She's staring at me hardcore, and her face looks a little wild.
"Come here," she whispers. I'm still just standing in my bra and shorts, my nightshirt completely forgotten with her whispered command. She sits up in my bed, a pillow propped behind her. "Faith," she quietly states again. "Come here."
My feet start walking toward the bed before my mind can tell them no. She pats the space beside her, inviting me close. I sit down on the squishy mattress, feeling it shift slightly with the pressure of my weight.
Buffy stares at my face, studying me like a road map. I shiver a little when I feel her fingertips brush against my wrist. I don't jump back like last time and her digits continue to dance up my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I can hear my heart echoing in my ears and the sound of my heavy breath blankets my senses. Those traveling fingers continue north, up my slightly tensed bicep and up to my naked shoulder.
Her fingers stop when she reaches the swell of my breasts and the fading marks at the top of the barely covered fleshy globe. Buffy lightly fingers the shallow twin scars. "Faith," she whispers again. "You've been bit."
I'm sure my eyes have flipped wide open and my jaw goes a little slack. I had completely forgotten about that. I mean, I didn't forget about it. I just forgot about the scars. And before I can stop myself, I'm suddenly blubbering like a baby.
Tears spill down my olive-tinted skin. Her cools hands are on me, stroking my face, wiping the tears away. She's murmuring hushing noises, trying to help me reign in my emotions once again.
"It looks…" B hesitates, "…recent." I can see her choking and struggling with the next words. "It was me, wasn't it?" she asks quietly.
I've got no reason to lie to her, and all I can do is nod my head.
The undead slayer continues to softly caress my exposed skin, never breaking eye contact. "Faith," she states with amazing calmness. "How long have I been a vampire?"
I feel my thick bottom lip quiver slightly and I wipe at my errant tears with the back of my hands. "About three months," I rasp.
Buffy tilts her head to the side and unconsciously licks her lips as she allows her eyes to drop from my face, down to my heaving chest. "Who did this to me, Fai?" she asks in an even quieter, calmer voice. "How did I become a vampire?"
My breath comes out in awkward shuddered bursts as I feel her cool touch stroke across the expanse of the top of my breasts. The more she touches me, the more honest I become. "W-Willow," I reveal. "You were going to die. So she changed you with vampire blood."
Buffy's features cloud over and her eyes narrow slightly. She once again fingers the bite marks above my breast, causing me to draw in a sharp breath. "And why do you have these?" she asks with interest.
I can't keep secrets from her. Not anymore.
"Because I let you," I reveal, my voice lowering to its usual husk.
Fuck, I'm in trouble.
TBC