It occurred again—a vision of that little pink slob. This time she was in public amongst many other creatures, smoking a cigarette as she walked down the street. Tied up in her free hand were the long fingers of a Pearl that did not belong to her.

They spoke casually, laughing and chattering as they walked.

"Pearl, what do you want to do next?"

"Actually, I think I'd like to head back."

"Oh? Do you want to watch that anime I've been telling you about? I know you'll love it."

Her cheeks flourished with a little blue. "As if you don't already know what I want to do."

Both of them released some amount of laughter. And as Morganite moved her lips to touch one side of Pearl's face, something fowl and cruel reacted inside Red Beryl's stomach.

Their digits intertwined even more tightly as the pleasant blue sky turned to bright gold beneath the clarity of the sun.

The scene shifted from the streets to a steamy window, showing the inside of Morganite's apartment. Upon the old sofa she kept inside her living room appeared, again, the vision's two principal characters.

They sure as hell weren't watching anime.

"Oh, Pearl. You're so pretty."

Morganite had found a lovely patch of skin to suck on, near one of those milky white shoulders, upon the ex-slave's neck. That was hardly the only one. Morganite kept sinking lower and lower, as Pearl's cries grew louder and louder, until the window fogged up more and more. Red Beryl could hardly make out the image before her, and how Morganite took her raspberry tongue and lapped up those lovely upper and inner thighs.

No—

The unintentional voyeur's sickness grew like a fungus deep, deep in a dark basement—or rather, closet. Her body grew to be the same temperature as the glass while that Pearl's toes coiled up and her fingers gripped entire sections of Morganite's candy-colored hair. The sound of gentle sucking and heavy moaning came through the slight cracks in the window.

"Oh my stars—"

The paler gem arched her slender back.

Morganite didn't bother to reply. Her mouth was quite preoccupied, as it were.

The yelling grew a little louder and the panels a little foggier, until Red's vision was nothing but one blinding white light. Her body landed back inside her office chair and a vague itching spread across every square centimeter of her skin, until it caught flame.

Red wiped the sweat from her brow.

Then she waited for the nausea and hunger to pass from her stomach, and the dizziness to wear off inside her blood, and for her excited well to dry.

"Sick."