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Aster was analyzing his dream notes for the third time when he heard Sam’s voice. “Aster? Are you there?”
Ah, right on time. “Yes, Sam! Over here!”
Aster looked up as footsteps approached. Day 7 since the Visitor. Seven days until the ritual. Not enough time.
The woman appeared first.
Small, compact, grinning.
Running at him.
Fast.
…Too fast.
“Wait—!!!” Aster started, notebook and pen still in his hands.
But she didn’t stop.
…
Then she changed.
It wasn’t gradual—her body erupted into an odd mass of human compounds. But Aster heard the sounds first: bones cracking, flesh splitting, mouths forming into multiple grins with small deep chuckles, Aster swore he saw an intestine hanging out, sharp claws, and teeth—so many teeth—bursting through gums and skin that stretched and tore and reformed into something else entirely, like a string of firecrackers made of calcium and horror. Wrong.
Then the smell: copper, ozone, and something organic that made Aster’s hindmind scream RUN!!!
Heat rolled off her transforming body in waves. The air pressure changed as her mass increased impossibly, pushing outward and Aster’s ears popped.
She was the size of a car now—no, bigger. Much bigger.
Multiple eyes bloomed across her form like flowers. Mouths—so many mouths—opened in a grin that could swallow him whole. The floor shook when she landed. Aster heard something crack—the floorboards? Or her bones restructuring? Both?
And she was still running at him!!!
“ASTER, RUN!” Sam’s voice was distant, no echo to bounce off the walls.
But Aster couldn’t move. He could only stare as the Grinning Beast’s jaws—magnificent, some detached part of his brain whispered. Absolutely magnificent—
“MMMMMMM!!!” Aster’s muffled screaming could be heard from inside one of Leigh’s mouths as his legs dangled out and was swung to and fro like a toy.
“Leigh wait! Don’t eat him—!” Sam and his other companions, Hellen and Papineau, rushed around Leigh’s beast form.
“No way, Sam! It’s a Cursed!” Leigh spoke with one of her other mouths and wrapped her tongue around Aster’s legs as she began to fully devour him.
“LEIGH NO!!!” Sam yelled as he, Hellen, and Papineau all grabbed Aster’s legs and Leigh’s mouths with as much force as they can. “It’s one of the Astronomers who’s gonna help with the ritual for the Visitor!”
“He looks like a cursed to me!”
“He isn’t!!”
“How do we know the dorky robes aren’t hiding anything dangerously fun?!”
“If he could, he would have fought back already—!!!” Sam lost his grip on Aster—he only had one arm and he’s not really built, what did you expect?—and landed on his butt while Hellen and Papineau and Leigh tumbled backwards.
And just like that, Aster was completely inside the Grinning Beast’s mouth. Said astronomer wasn’t sure what to make of the situation at first—everything happened so fast. He was too engrossed watching the young lady transform and many, many questions and possibilities began to cross Aster’s mind that he didn’t realize the possible danger he was in until he was enveloped in darkness.
He had felt Sam’s remaining hand gripping his ankle and something—several somethings actually, it felt like wet flesh after being in the pool for too long—gripping his upper body. Aster had no idea what it was and was genuinely terrified of what it could be aside from the razor sharp teeth lightly grazing his lower back and abdomen. Then the oddly smooth slimy texture of the massive tongue wrapped around him and tugged inwards hungrily.
Aster wanted out immediately and was grateful that Sam and his other two subordinates were attempting to free him.
Only for Sam’s grip to slip and the rest of Aster flew into the monster’s mouth. Which doesn’t sound too bad…until Aster realized that not only there was a MASSIVE tongue, there were also many hands and eyes—HANDS AND EYES!!!
The hands weren’t just hands—some had too many fingers, some had none, just smooth palm that pressed against him like they were learning his shape. Testing him, and tasting him through touch.
The eyes blinked independently. Some tracked him, others looked inward…or at each other? Were they aware of themselves? Of him?
And the tongue—goodness, the tongue—was prehensile, muscular, wrapping around him with the strength of a python and the curiosity of something that had never tasted an astronomer before.
The worst part?
It was warm. Not cold and dead like he’d expected. Warm and alive and impossibly, horribly gentle. Like she was cradling him…like he was precious.
Oh yeah, and teeth. Razor sharp teeth. Which was natural, given the large form but come on!!!
Aster initially wanted to panic about being this close to death and yet the teeth didn’t seem to unnerve him as much as the extra hands and eyes inside the mouth did.
Speaking of mouths, Aster thanked whatever Gods existed that his mouth was closed when he flew in—nothing got in his mouth or nose. The stench was practically unbearable: rotting flesh combined with spoiled eggs, iron from a human being’s blood, and…was that cinnamon and lemon? He couldn’t tell.
Aster attempted to stand, or at least get his bearings, as he saw a darker hole a few feet away—the throat or the stomach? Both? But he could barely grab his glasses as the masses within the mouth kept shifting and the extra hands now held him in place.
Aster’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest. He couldn’t take it anymore and struggled, to no avail. The hands held him in place, not forcefully. Eventually, he stopped thrashing…he just closed his eyes, and just waited for his demise to be chewed into a pulp or to be swallowed whole.
…
Except it never came. Or rather, the bright light a lot of people claim to see before they die never came.
Aster then heard muffled yelling. “Leigh! Spit him out! I mean it!”
“Alright! Alright! Gimme a second!”
Aster lost his balance again as the tongue, in a surprisingly gentle way, wrapped around him again. He almost panicked until he was blinded by light and felt an odd breeze and then the soft forgiving, rustic wood floor.
Outside. Outside of the danger.
His eyes took time to readjust to the pathetic l.e.d. lights again. Aster could only took in a deep breath and stare at the ceiling, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
Sam and his companions crowded in and finally got a good look at Aster. His robe’s hood was off, the astronomer was taller than Sam, standing at about five foot nine, olive skin, stormy blue eyes, golden-tinted glasses, and blonde hair styled in what Sam assumed was a textured pompadour—sticking in all directions thanks to saliva.
Leigh’s grin extended slightly, cracking, as she chuckled, awkwardly. She had transformed back—small again, human again, looking anywhere but Aster’s pupils. “Hey man…you okay?”
Aster blinked once, majority of his body covered in saliva and other fluids. And he coughed once before answering. “I think…I think I feel violated right now. Very violated and mostly wet.”
Sam, Hellen, and Papineau all glared at Leigh, who surprisingly had the audacity to blush a little. “Hehe, whoops.”
Sam helped Aster stand, one arm supporting him while the astronomer’s legs remembered how to function. Then he firmly stated. “Shower, my apartment. There’s soap that’ll actually get that…stuff off.”
Aster nodded mutely. His entire body felt wrong—like he’d been turned inside out and put back together slightly incorrectly.
“I’ve got spare clothes too. They’ll be a bit big on you but—” Sam glanced at Aster’s saliva-soaked robes. “Better than that.”
“Thank you.” Aster’s voice came out hoarse. “I…yes, thank you.”
Papineau assisted Aster as the latter stumbled towards the stairs, he heard Sam’s low voice behind him. “Leigh, we need to talk.”
Aster didn’t hear her response. He was too busy trying not to think about teeth.
“You tasted good by the way!” Leigh called out to Aster.
Aster froze mid-step on the stairs.
She—
She what?
“Leigh.” Sam warned as the small lady’s grin only extended lightly.
But Aster’s brain had already short-circuited. Because she’d said it so casually like commenting on the weather, or like it was a normal thing to say to someone you‘d almost devoured.
You tasted good.
His face burned. His entire body burned. And some absolutely deranged part of his brain whispered: ‘She thought I tasted good.’
“I…mmm, um…” Aster managed before giving up completely. Words were long beyond him.
Leigh’s grin widened-impossibly and dangerously. “Hehe.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Papineau, please help him upstairs before this gets weirder.”
Too late—it was already weird.
Aster stumbled up the stairs, Papineau steadying him, still processing. She thought I tasted good.
“I need that shower.” Aster muttered.
“Yeah, you do.” Papineau agreed, probably misunderstanding entirely.
∞∞∞
Aster turned the shower knob to cold.
Hot would’ve been kinder—his muscles ached, his skin felt raw where teeth had scraped but he needed the shock. Needed something to cut through the fog in his brain.
And, if he was being honest with himself, he needed to address a rather…unfortunate physical responses to almost being eaten alive.
Which was deeply concerning on multiple levels.
The cold water hit like a slap. A gasp tore from his throat, pressed his forehead against the tile, trying to think about literally anything else.
Rock formations. Sedimentary layers. The Mohs hardness scale. Having to wait until his robes were dry to be protected again. What his offering could be. The Ritual. The Visitor.
It wasn’t working.
Because his traitorous brain kept circling back to her. The way she’d moved—fluid, predatory, completely in control. The power in her transformed body. The intelligence in those multiple eyes, still her even when she was something else entirely.
The moment when she’d stopped.
When those jaws, completely capable of crushing him like meat or paper, had held him carefully instead.
“This is inappropriate.” Aster told the shower drain. “Deeply. Profoundly inappropriate.”
At least, the cold water was helping. Physically. Though it did nothing for the thoughts.
He’d been inside her mouth—multiple mouths. There were hands in there—and eyes—and a tongue the size of—
“Stop.” Aster commanded himself. “Stop thinking about it.”
But he couldn’t.
Because underneath the terror—and yes, he’d been genuinely terrified, his hands were still shaking even now—was something else. Something he didn’t have terminology for.
Fascination, obviously. Scientific curiosity. The transformation alone warranted years of study. But also…
Aster turned the water colder.
He’d felt safe somehow. Even with teeth around his torso, even with those massive hands gripping him, even when every logical part of his brain screamed that he was about to die—some deeper instinct had whispered that she would’t hurt him.
And she hadn’t.
She’d stopped.
For him.
“Magnificent.” Aster whispered, then immediately felt his body respond to the memory and cranked the cold water higher. “No. Absolutely not! I am not doing this.”
The scientific part of his mind, the part that never shut up—started cataloguing anyway: elevated heart rate, pupil dilation, increased blood flow—
“ROCK FORMATIONS!” Aster said loudly to himself. “Think about rock formations!”
Sedimentary, igneous, metamorphic.
Her transformed body had been primarily muscle tissue, but the skeletal structure suggested—the way her legs had bent, digitigrade, powerful—
“Mm, NO!!” Aster groaned and cranked the water colder. Even his scientific observations were becoming inappropriate.
The water ran clear now. No more saliva, no more evidence of what had happened. Just Aster, freezing and deeply confused about his own psychology.
And maybe, possibly, definitely attracted to someone who could eat him whole.
“I need therapy.” Aster told the shower drain as his head leaned against the shower tile wall.
“…I need to see her again.” A whisper only the passing cockroaches can hear.
The drain, wisely, didn’t judge him.
Aster stood under the freezing water for another five minutes—just to be safe—before finally turning it off. His skin was pink from cold, his hands had stopped shaking, and his body had finally gotten the message that now was not the time.
He dried off with Sam’s towel, pulled on the borrowed clothes that were three sizes too big, and tried to prepare himself for facing her.
The woman who’d almost killed him.
The woman who’d stopped.
The woman he apparently found ‘magnificent’ in ways that would require significant unpacking later.
“You can do this.” Aster told his reflection—glasses, damp-haired, drowning in a stranger’s sweatpants. “Just…apologize for tasting good? No, don’t say that. Definitely don’t say that.”
Aster adjusted his glasses and headed for the door. Outside the bathroom door, he could hear voices: Sam’s steady tone and Leigh’s sharper one.
His heart rate picked up again.
“Rock formations.” Aster reminded himself. “Think about rock formations.”
It didn’t help at all.
∞∞∞
Leigh paced in the living room.
“Sit.” Sam said.
“I’m good.”
“Leigh. Sit.”
Leigh sat. Mostly because Sam used his firm captain voice, which was far and rare in between, but Leigh still had her limits.
Sam studied her for a long moment. Hellen and Papineau had retreated to the kitchen—smart of them. Joel was coloring in the children’s coloring book and Ratticus was just staring.
“You almost killed him.” Sam finally said.
“I know.”
“He’s an Astronomer. We need him for the ritual.”
“I. KNOW.” Leigh’s hands clenched. “You think I don’t know? I just—he looked like—“
“He looked like a Cursed.” Sam finished. “I get it. Your instincts kicked in.”
“Yeah.” Leigh’s voice was small. She hated that, hating feeling small. It made her feel weak.
“But here’s the thing.” Sam continued. “You stopped. That matters.”
Leigh looked up sharply.
“I saw it.” Sam said. “You had him. Could’ve bit down. Could’ve finished it. But you didn’t.” He leaned forward. “That’s control, Leigh. That’s you staying human even when you’re not.”
Something in Leigh’s chest loosened just a little.
“I still scared the shit out of him though.” Leigh muttered, her grin gone.
“Yeah, well.” Sam stood, grabbed his jacket. “That’s what apologies are for.”
“Apologies…” Leigh repeated flatly, eyes squinted and to the side as she recalled a bitter memory.
“Yep. Novel concept, I know.” Sam checked his watch. “Supply run. Hellen, Papineau, Joel—you’re all with me. You too Ratticus.”
“Wait, what?” Leigh stood. “You’re leaving?”
“For an hour. Maybe two.” Sam gave her a look. “You two need to talk without an audience. So~talk.”
“Sam—”
“Apologize, Leigh. Be a human about it.” Sam paused at the door. “Oh, and Aster? When he comes out? I’m taking him on the next run. He’s been on floor 2 for too long. Needs field experience.”
Then Sam and the others were gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
Leigh stood alone in the apartment, listening to water running close by.
“Fuck.” She said to the empty room.
Then quieter: “Fuck fuck fuck.”
She started pacing again. And trying very hard NOT to think about the way Aster had tasted: sweet. That was the wrong word. Wrong and creepy and she shouldn’t be thinking it. But he’d tasted…clean? Academic? Like mint toothpaste and old books and something underneath that was just him.
The Beast had wanted to keep him, pull him deeper, feel him struggle, hear those muffled sounds he’d made—
“NOPE!” Leigh smack her own face. “Not going there.”
But her body disagreed, she was still humming from the transformation. Still wired and energized and wanting to chase something, fight something, bite something—
Someone.
“He should hate me.” Leigh muttered as she bit on a claw and began to pace faster.
Because she’d seen it before: the fear. The way people looked at her Beast from and decided she was a monster. Even Sam sometimes got that look, even if it was just for a second, just a flicker when she transformed.
But Aster stared at her like she was magnificent. Nobody had ever looked at her like that. Not even—
“Fuck.” Leigh said again, because it bore repeating.
She heard the shower shut off and some rustling inside. And her heart did something stupid.
“Rock formations.” She muttered, borrowing from what she’d heard Aster yell earlier inside the bathroom door. She was surprised that Sam and the others hadn’t heard it until she remembered that she was one of the few with enhanced hearing and smell. “Think about…boring rocks. Sedimentary. Iguana—whatever.”
It didn’t work. And Leigh could only ruffle her mess of a hair in frustration.
Because all she could think about was the way he’d looked at her, terrified and fascinated, and the fact that she wanted him look at her like that again. Preferably while she wasn’t trying to eat him.
Then the bathroom door opened.
∞∞∞
Aster emerged fifteen minutes later, drowning in Sam’s borrowed clothes.
The sweatpants pooled around his ankles. The t-shirt hung off one shoulder. He’d kept his glasses but lost the wizard aesthetic entirely—now he just looked like a grad student who’d raided a gym’s lost and found.
Leigh, still pacing, froze when she saw him.
They stared at each other.
“Hi…” Aster said.
“Hi…” Leigh said.
…
Silence…
…
“Sam left.” Leigh added. “Supply run.”
“Ah.” Aster adjusted his glasses. “That’s…good. Supply runs are important. Strategically speaking.”
“Yeah.”
More silence.
“He said he’d take you next time.” Leigh continued. “On the run. Said you needed field experience.”
“Indeed.”
They were still just standing there. Aster at the bathroom entrance, Leigh near the couch. Three meters between them that felt like three kilometers.
Aster realized this is probably the first time he is able to see Leigh completely without having to worry about Cursed or being eaten. Small, maybe 5’0”, which meant she’d have to tilt her head back to look up at him. The thought made something warm curl in his chest.
Her hair was a mess-medium length, falling just past her shoulders in tangles that suggested she’d never met a brush she liked. He was tempted to touch it and see if it was as soft as it looked.
She was built solid—curvy and full-figured in a way that made his academic brain short-circuit entirely. Deep brown skin, warm and rich even under Sam’s pathetic LED lighting. Thick thighs, a soft round belly. The kind of body that looked like it could both crush and catch him, which was distressingly accurate given the last twenty minutes of his life.
His lizard brain, unhelpfully, went: Oh.
Yellow eyes with vertical pupils tracked his stare. Cat-like. Predatory.
Beautiful.
And were those—
“Are those paw pads?” Aster blurted, staring at her hands.
Leigh glanced down at her palms, then back up at him. “Yeah. So?”
“That’s…” He stepped closer without thinking. “May I?”
She held out her hand with suspicion yet curious.
Aster touched one of the pads gently—soft, slightly warmer than human skin, with a texture like suede. Leigh’s pupils dilated and she let out a trill-squeak, like cat.
“Fascinating.” Aster breathed.
“You’re weird.” Leigh said, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Her ears, surprisingly human—another factor he would have to take note about later—had gone slightly pink.
“I’m beginning to suspect that about myself.”
“Look.” Leigh started, one of her legs rubbing against the other, at the same time Aster said. “I should—”
Aster coughed into his hand and gestured towards Leigh in an offer. “You first.”
Leigh’s jaw worked. This was harder than fighting. Way, way harder.
“I’m sorry.” She forced out. “For, you know. Almost eating you. That was…shit. That was really shit of me.”
Leigh hadn’t apologized to anybody in a while—it felt completely alien. And usually, she would brush it off or tell the person to walk it off. But Sam’s words came back, and Leigh silently agreed with him—not that she would ever let him be aware of it for while.
“You thought I was a Cursed.” Aster said quietly. “You instincts—”
Don’t make excuses for me.” Leigh’s hands clenched. “I fucked up. Could’ve killed you. Should’ve looked first, asked questions, literally anything other than.” She rubbed the back of her head with one hand as the other hand gestured vaguely towards the front door. “…that.”
Aster took a few, puny steps forward. Then closer. Two meters.
“You stopped.” He said.
Leigh’s eyes shot up. “What?”
“You stopped. You had me—entirely at your mercy—and you stopped.” He took another step. One meter. “That’s not instinct. That’s choice.”
Leigh’s breath caught as her eyes and pupils thinned. Unable to believe her enhanced hearing.
“May I tell you something?” Aster asked. “And please don’t think I’m insane—more insane than you already suspect-but…”
“But?”
He closed the distance between them. Close enough to touch now, though he didn’t. Among other things. Aster was attempting to keep calm and his complete focus on Leigh. “That was the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
“You should hate me.” Leigh burst out finally. “I almost killed you—I almost ate you! You should be terrified! You should demand Sam kick me out. You should—”
Aster leaned forward slightly. “I don’t hate you.”
“What?”
Aster repeated deliberately. “I said: I don’t hate you.”
“But I—”
“You almost ate me, yes. The experience was…harrowing.” Aster adjusted his glasses as he continued thinking. “Do you know what I found fascinating, though?”
Leigh could hardly believe what she was hearing right now. She stared at Aster like he’d grown a second head. “Fascinating? Are you insane?”
“Perhaps.” Aster stood up and took light strides closer to Leigh. She backed up instantly until she hit the wall. “Your transformation is complete molecular restructuring. The energy required alone is staggering. The way your mass increases and changes shape—there’s no physical explanation for it. You’re essentially creating matter from nothing, which shouldn’t be possible, but you do it anyway.”
“Are you seriously nerding out right now?!” Heat crawled up Leigh’s neck and flooded her cheeks. She could feel it—hated that she could feel it. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go.
Aster then placed one hand on the wall beside her head, with just enough room on the side of Leigh’s head. Not trapping—he wasn’t quite touching her—but definitely into her space. “And the way your consciousness splits. You’re still you in there, but you’re also something else. Two minds operating simultaneously. The cognitive implications alone—”
“Aster—”
“You’re magnificent.” His voice was soft now, intense. “Terrifying, yes. Absolutely terrifying. But magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like you.”
Leigh’s breathe caught as her pupils began dilating, despite her mental panicking. “You’re insane. You know what? Completely fucking insane.”
“Like I said: I’m beginning to suspect as much.” He leaned closer, not threatening, just…curious. “The moment when you had me in your jaws…I should have been terrified. But there was also this…this wonder. You were so powerful. So completely in your element.”
Leigh lightly spread her arms out in shock. “I was about to eat you!”
“But you didn’t.” His free hand came up, carefully, and touched her cheek. “That’s what’s fascinating. You were in full Beast mode, bloodlust, hunting—and you still stopped. Something in you recognized me. Held back.”
Leigh was trembling now, but not from fear. “I wanted to, though. For a second there, I wanted to bite down and—”
“But you didn’t.” Aster repeated, his hand curled into a thumb as he softly traced down her jawline. “That’s what matters.”
They were very close now. Leigh could see the flecks of the sky in his blue eyes, the way his glasses reflected her face back at her. Close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him. Close enough to count his breaths.
“May I…” Aster paused, suddenly uncertain. “May I try something?”
Leigh’s hand found the hem of her torn shirt. “Like what?” Her voice came out meeker than intended, unlike her usual demeanor.
“The kind that requires your explicit, enthusiastic consent.”
Oh.
Oh.
Leigh’s brain caught up. He wanted to—
She nodded, couldn’t find the words, so she just nodded.
“Tell me,” Aster said softly, “if you want to stop.”
Aster’s hand slid from her cheek to cup the back of her neck—gentle, careful, mindful, giving her every chance to pull away.
Leigh didn’t pull away. For a long moment she just breathed—his breath warm against her face—and made a choice.
She leaned in.
They met in the middle.
The kiss started gentle, testing. Aster’s hands hovered uncertainly near her soft waist before settling carefully, like she might break upon his touch.
She tasted like violence and cheap coffee. He tasted like mint and anxiety. Her tongue was slightly rough—cat-like—and Aster’s brain catalogued this detail even as it short-circuited.
His hands trembled when they touched her waist. Not from fear, from want. Her skin was warmer than his. Almost feverish. Like her body was still processing the transformation.
Leigh deepened the kiss, almost laughing at the way Aster gently handled her. But she forced it down and deepened the kiss and caught his lower lip between her fangs. Softly with just enough pressure, Leigh felt him gasp against her mouth.
His hands were careful…too careful. Like she was something precious instead of something dangerous. A huge part of her was tempted to bite him. Not hard, but just enough to remind him what she was. And yet, the other part, the one melting like honey under his touch, wanted to let him keep thinking it.
Just for tonight.
Aster’s hands slid from her waist to her hips—still careful but firmer now. His thumbs traced small circles through her shirt.
This was insane. Completely insane. She could kill him—had almost killed him and could still—
Leigh’s hips shifted against his and Aster’s brain short-circuited entirely. Forget the Visitor, the Ritual—EVERYTHING except the way that she was looking at him: hungry and entirely focused. He was going to die in eight days anyway.
Might as well make them count.
Leigh made a mixed sound—she didn’t mean to, but it had slipped out—of surprise, pleasure, confusion, and something that sounded between approval and demand. She grabbed Aster’s borrowed shirt, yanking him closer and forcing him to bend down more. Less gentle and honest.
MUCH, more honest.
Aster pulled back just enough to speak as Leigh lightly groaned in protest, both of them out of breath. He adjusted his glasses.“Was that—is this okay?”
Leigh tugged him an inch closer, pupils slitted as she growled lowly in a nonthreatening manner. “Shut up and don’t stop.” And she pulled him in for a harder kiss.
Aster’s brain finally got the message and met her intensity with his own. His hands moved to her soft, plump waist, pulling her against his thin frame. Leigh’s entire body responded. Her breath caught on something that wasn’t quite a sound.
When she bit his lower lip, softly testing him, Aster moaned.
They were moving now—not coordinated, not graceful. Leigh’s hands fisted in his hair with Aster arched up against her. Their teeth clicked together once, twice, and neither cared.
After some more exploration, they broke apart to gather air. Both were flushed and gasped as if they ran a marathon.
“That was…” Aster started.”
“Yeah.” Leigh grinned genuinely. “Hehe.”
“I should probably inform you,” Aster said, grabbing his glasses and wiping away the built up fog, “that your Beast form is not a deterrent. If anything, it’s…um…”
“Spit it out, nerd.”
“Attractive. In a deeply confusing, probably psychologically concerning way.”
Leigh laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re so weird.”
“I’m aware.” Aster smiled, which transformed his anxious face. “But you kissed me anyway.”
“Heh, yeah…guess I did.” Leigh pulled him down for another kiss softer this time. She grinned against his chest. “heh. You’re stuck with me now. Hope you know that.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Aster’s hands were still in her hair. Leigh’s were fisted in his borrowed shirt. Neither wanted to move.
Then Leigh tugged. Not hard, just testing and wanted to see if he would follow.
He did.
Leigh pulled again and Aster stumbled forward. His leg caught the living room table. They tripped—
“W-Wait—” Too late.
They hit the floor in a tangle of limbs. Aster’s glasses went flying. Leigh landed on top, straddling his hips and grinning down at him like she’d just won something or just caught her prey.
In this context, it was both. Aster couldn’t help but lightly gulp and felt a combination of fear and excitement.
Leigh chuckled wholeheartedly. “Smooth.”
“I’m not—this wasn’t—“ Aster’s face was flushed, hair mussed, looking up at her with wide eyes.
Leigh’s grin widened as she leaned forward, inches from Aster’s face. Aster could smell cheap coffee and raw meat—possibly another Cursed she had eaten earlier before their encounter. “You look good like this."
“Like what? Horizontal?”
“Underneath me.”
Aster’s breath hitched as his face reached another ten levels of blush. “I—that’s—you can’t just—”
“Can’t just what?” Leigh leaned down, bracketing his head with her arms. Her hair fell around them like a curtain. “Say what I’m thinking?”
“Y-Yes.” Aster looked away, unable to meet Leigh’s predatory gaze. “It’s extremely distracting.”
Leigh chuckled again. “Good.” She kissed him again.
This time there was no wall, no careful positioning. Just them on Sam’s floor, Leigh settled on Aster’s hips, and the kiss that had been interrupted earlier finally continuing.
The floor was hard against Aster’s back. Uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. Leigh’s weight on top of him was solid, real, grounding. She smelled like sweat and transformation, ozone, copper, and something sharper he couldn’t name.
When she shifted her hips, Aster made a sound he’d never made before-helpless and wanting.
Aster tried to roll them over but failed. Leigh’s mass was way above his flimsy frame’s weight class.
Leigh felt Aster’s muscles shift and pulled away for a second. “What are you—”
“I thought—leverage—” Aster tried again but failed, again.
Leigh burst out laughing. “You’re a nerd, not a gymnast.”
“I’m aware.” But Aster was grinning now, breathless and mussed. “I’m improvising.”
“Heh, you’re bad at improvising.”
Aster huffed, though Leigh could smell from his body scent that he was not angry. “Then help me.”
Leigh’s grin turned wicked, Aster swore he saw drooling. “Oh, I can help."
She rolled them in one smooth motion as Aster yelped. Then he realized he was on top, bracing himself on shaking arms above her.
“Better?” Leigh asked.
“I—yes. Much better. Very much—“
“Aster.”
“Yes?”
“Stop talking and kiss me.”
“Right. Yes, excellent plan.”
His hands slid under her shirt, tentative and just fingertips, and Leigh’s breath caught.
“Okay?” Aster whispered against her mouth.
“Yeah.” Leigh’s voice came out rougher than intended. “Yeah. That’s—keep doing that.”
She arched into his touch, felt him tense beneath her, heard his breathing change to something ragged and desperate.
“You know,” Leigh said against his mouth, “you’re a lot more fun than the cold shower you took.”
Aster froze. “You-how did you—?”
“Thin walls.” She grinned wickedly. “I heard you yelling about rock formations.”
His face went nuclear. “I was-that was—”
“Sedimentary.” Leigh quoted in a terrible impression of his voice. “Iguana. Metamorphic.”
“It’s igneous—"
“Don’t care.” She kissed him hard enough to shut him up. “But I’m gonna ask about it later.”
“Please don’t.” Aster breathed.
“Definitely gonna.” Her hands fisted in his hair. “But first…”
She pulled him back down and Aster stopped caring about his dignity entirely.
Her legs locked around his lower back and they continued exploring each other. Somehow they’d migrated. Leigh’s back pressed against the couch now, Aster’s weight settling between her legs—still clothed, still technically innocent, but—
“Oh.” Leigh said.
“Is this-should I—”
“DON’T. Move.” Her hands locked on his hips. “Just—stay right there.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Aster’s mouth moved to her neck-soft, experimental kisses that made her entire body arch up.
“Fuck.” Leigh gasped, and she hugged him closer. “Aster—”
His teeth scraped gently, so gently and Leigh’s hand flew to the back of his head to hold him there.
Then, purely out of instinct—or maybe spite, or maybe want, she wasn’t entirely sure—Leigh turned her head and dragged her tongue slowly up the side of his neck.
Flat. Deliberate. Entirely unhurried.
Aster made a sound like his soul had briefly left his body. His entire frame shuddered—a full-body shiver that she felt through her hands, her legs, everywhere they were pressed together.
“That’s—” He swallowed audibly. “That was—”
“Mm?” Leigh pressed her grin against his pulse point. His heartbeat was absolutely frantic under her lips. “Problem?”
“No.” Aster managed, with the tone of a man who had completely lost the thread of his own argument. “No problem whatsoever.”
“Heh heh, didn’t think so.”
This was getting dangerous. Not in the funny way: in the ‘if they don’t stop now they won’t stop at all’ way.
But god, Leigh didn’t want to stop.
Click!
Then the door clicked and they both froze.
“—telling you, Joel, the bottom floor is already and completely picked over—” Sam’s voice was familiar. Oh so familiar from the door.
“Shit!” Leigh hissed as the two scrambled apart.
Aster rolled behind the couch but forgot his glasses on the floor. Leigh dove for the kitchen with her shirt on backwards. The small details can be easy to ignore except for a few things: their flushed faces, breathing hard, as well as the oh so crucial detail of being absolutely, completely obvious.
Sam rounded the corner and stopped dead. He looked from Aster hiding behind the couch, the tall man gave an awkward ‘hi’ gesture, to Leigh who was frozen by the fridge, with said machine being half open.
Sam blinked, once.
Twice.
Then the third time he arched a brow. “Really?”
“We were—“ Aster started.
“Don’t.” Sam held up his only hand. “I don’t want to know.”
“We were just talking—”
“Aster, your lips are swollen and your shirt’s inside-out.”
Aster looked down. “…Oh.”
Leigh began laughing, she couldn’t help it. This was the most fun she’d had since first met Sam and co.
Aster’s face turned red again for the hundredth time that evening, before he joined Leigh in her laughing fit. He was nervous laughing before soon doubling over alongside her. Sam could only stand there, looking deeply and profoundly done with both adults.
“I was gone for an hour.” Sam said.
“A lot can happen in an hour.” Leigh merely answered, giving Sam a cheeky grin.
“Apparently.” Sam muttered. “Papineau, please put the supplies in the kitchen. Joel and Ratticus, feel free to take a break. Hellen, you’re with me. I need coffee. …About five cups.”
Sam paused as he turned to leave, he then looked back at the odd duo. “Just…please lock the door next time.” He gestured vaguely. “We might get the message.”
Sam sighed—long, suffering, the sigh of a man who’d signed up for apocalypse survival, not relationship counseling.
“I need a raise.” He muttered.
“You don’t pay yourself.” Hellen pointed out from the kitchen.
“EXACTLY MY POINT.”
Leigh and Aster stared at each other.
“Well….” Aster began.
“Yeah…” Leigh merely responded, rubbing the back of her neck.
“That was…” Aster grabbed his glasses from the floor. “Mortifying?”
Leigh flashed her blood-coated pearly whites at him. “I was going to say ‘worth it’.
Aster huffed playfully as he rubbed grime and fog from his glasses. “Beast.”
“Nerd.” Leigh stuck her oddly shaped tongue out at him.
The two stayed where they were: Aster behind the couch, Leigh by the kitchen-both disheveled and embarrassed and absolutely, entirely, ridiculously happy.
Leigh scratched her cheek. “We’re doing this again…right?”
Aster gave a soft smile that transformed his entire face, one that even lifted his glasses from his nose. “Scientifically speaking, this requires further research foreseeable in the near future.”
“You’re such a dork!”
Now it was Aster’s turn to smugly smile. “You~ like it.”
“Yeah.” Leigh admitted as she rumbled a purr. “I really do.”
∞∞∞
The unlikely duo ended up on the couch. Luckily, and for whatever reason, Aster had a spare wizard’s robe in his work bag. ‘Just in case’.
Leigh was sprawled across Aster’s lap purring her heart out, which vibrated through his entire body. It was a low rumble he felt in his bones while his fingers ran through her hair. Both too wound up to sleep, content to just be. His hand in her hair was starting to cramp, but he didn’t move it. Couldn’t. Her purr vibrated though his chest, settling something restless in him he hadn’t known was there.
The apartment smelled like coffee and dust and them—their combined scent settling into the couch cushions. Said apartment was quiet now. Sam and the others had retreated to give them space. Or to avoid witnessing more trauma—probably both.
“This is insane.” Leigh said into his chest.
“Statistically improbable.” Aster agreed, adjusting his glasses with his free hand.
“You’re gonna die in eight days.”
“Seven, technically. It’s past midnight.”
She bit his collarbone, not hard, just enough. “Nerd.”
His hand tightened in her hair. “Beast.”
Silence. Comfortable, for once.
Then Leigh broke it with a quiet confession, “I don’t know how to do this. The…not-violence thing.”
Aster’s fingers paused in her hair. “What do you mean?”
“This.” She gestured vaguely at them. “Feelings, relationships, normal people stuff. I’m not…I mean I did it once but…” She trailed off, Aster brought her closer.
“I’ve never been attracted to someone who could eat me whole.” Aster said. “So I think we’re equally unprepared.”
“You’re into that.” Leigh pointed out.
“Distressingly, yes.”
She grinned against his chest. “Freak.”
“Says the woman currently purring.”
“Shut up.” But she burrowed closer, and Aster let himself imagine, just for a moment, that they might have more than seven days.
“Aster?”
“Mm?”
“You know I could bite you in half, right?”
“I’m aware.”
Leigh’s purr stuttered. “What if I can’t stop next time?”
“Then I’ll remind you.” Aster said simply. “I’ll talk about rock formations until you remember yourself. Worked once.”
Despite everything, Leigh laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You like it.”
“Yeah.” She admitted softly. “I really do.”
They stayed like that for a while—Leigh stretched across the couch, Aster at the other end—until Leigh apparently decided the distance was unacceptable.
She moved without announcing it. Just rolled, repositioned, and climbed directly into his lap with the confidence of someone who had decided this was her territory now.
Aster made a quiet, startled sound. “Oh—”
“Problem?” Leigh purred as she settled herself against his chest, tucking her head under his chin.
“None whatsoever.” His arms came up around her—careful, then firmer when she didn’t protest. “This is fine. This is completely fine.”
“You’re narrating again.”
“Force of habit.”
Her purr started low, then slowly built up, a deep, rolling rumble that vibrated through both of them. Aster went very still, the way people do when a cat deigns to sit on them and they’re terrified to move in case it ends.
He didn’t want it to end.
“My apartment’s on floor 2.” Leigh said eventually, into the quiet. Her voice was casual, too casual. “Apartment 23. In case you need somewhere to conduct your…further research.”
Aster’s breath caught. Leigh continued as she lightly twirled a strand of hair in her finger. “Though it might be a little hard—I destroyed half my apartment when I became the Beast. So we might have to get a little…creative.”
“I see.” Aster adjusted his glasses with one finger, the only part of him he dared move. “And would this research be peer-reviewed?”
“By me. Yeah.”
Aster huffed lightly in a playful way. “That seems like a conflict of interest.”
Leigh tilted her head up just enough to look at him. One yellow eye, pupils blown wide and soft. “You complaining?”
“Absolutely not.” Aster looked back down at her. Something in his chest ached—quiet and warm, and he gently brought Leigh in closer to him “Apartment 23. I’ll remember that.”
“You better.” She settled back against him. “You forget and I’ll eat you.”
“Noted.”
“Still might anyway.”
“Also noted.” His hand found her hair again, fingers threading through the tangles gently. “I find I don’t mind as much as I should.”
Leigh’s purr deepened. Outside, the apocalypse continued. Inside, for just a few hours, neither of them thought about it. They fell asleep like that—Leigh sprawled possessively across him, Aster’s arms wrapped around her, his hand still tangled in her hair, both content in their strange, violent, perfect understanding.
It wouldn’t last. But it was enough for the both of them.
For now.