Nadine woke to the sound of the hotel room door opening – which she had to assume was intentional, because normally he was the quietest asshole on the planet. She grumbled as she slid out of bed, sore all over – which was her fault as much as his, but she was going to blame him anyway.
“Kas?” she called, as she threw on a shirt recovered from the floor – in her case, it was enough to qualify as dressed.
“Morning.” She squinted at the clock, which read somewhere after three. So, he was technically correct.
“The fuck you doing?” She rubbed her eyes as she shuffled to the main room of their suite, realizing as she surveyed the blurs within that she had no idea what had happened to her glasses.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Lokas was as chatty as ever. She didn’t bother asking why – not because he wouldn’t answer, though he wouldn’t, but because she didn’t actually give a shit. His blur came closer, until she could actually see his face; he held out her glasses, which she snatched with a wry twist to her mouth.
“So you wandered off to foil crimes in the night?” She slid her glasses on her face, and he snorted, though she noted that he didn’t deny the possibility.
Fucking idiot.
He bent over to slide a DVD into the side of the TV, and she couldn’t help cocking her head to the side as she admired the view. “Stop looking at my ass.” She hated when he did that; he’d probably just seen her reflection in the TV screen. Or else he’d guessed. She stuck her tongue out at his back, just in case.
“Lemme guess: Cars With Poor Gas Mileage Six: The Shootsplosioning?”
“I don’t think that’s a real movie.”
“You know what I mean.”
“It sounds awful. So, no.”
He didn’t seem to care when she joined him on the couch, but he didn’t seem to care about a lot of things. She liked that about him. When she wasn’t trying to coax him into manhandling her, anyway. She picked up one of the pint cartons on the coffee table, cocking an eyebrow. “This ice cream has chocolate covered potato chips in it.”
“Yes. Yes it does.”
“… can I have some?” Having apparently anticipated this, he handed her an extra spoon, which of course made her not want any out of spite. She squinted at the DVD menu, suspicious. “Is… is that Wolverine?”
“What?”
“That guy.” She pointed at Hugh Jackman with her spoon, brow furrowed. “I think he was Wolverine.”
“I haven’t seen that movie.”
“You never saw X-Men?”
“That sounds like nerd shit.”
“Fuck you.”
“Pretty sure I fucked you, actually.”
“Is this a chick flick? This looks like a chick flick.”
He licked some ice cream off his spoon, then tapped her chidingly on the nose with it. “Sexist.”
“You couldn’t sleep, so now you’re going to watch a romcom and eat ice cream.”
“What’s wrong with ice cream?”
“It’s too sweet, for one thing. For another, romcoms.”
“Didn’t you just admit to watching a comic book movie?”
“This is all the boring stuff that leads up to fucking, with none of the fucking.”
He only grunted, starting the movie and lighting up a clove. Theirs was actually a nonsmoking suite, but Lokas had disabled the smoke alarms. Before she could even look for her pack, he was lighting up one of her cigarettes as well, handing it to her. She scowled and considered putting it out in his ice cream, but decided against it, taking a drag instead.
You seem to be awake.
It was strange to hear Smokey’s voice in her head when he wasn’t in the room.
Yup!
Are you two intercoursing again?
No. No we are not.
May I come in, then?
Lokas seemed engrossed in the establishing scene of the film – in which Nadine noticed only the word erection, and cackled accordingly – so she stood and shuffled to the balcony door. Opening the blinds, scarlet eyes blinked at her in the darkness; he was already perched on the balcony, entirely too large. She pulled open the double doors, and he slithered in with a touch of gratefulness.
What are we doing?
She assumed that he was sending these thoughts to her and her alone, since Lokas didn’t look like he’d tolerate any sort of interruption.
We’re watching a movie, I guess. With Wolverine, in tight pants.
I see.
When Nadine turned from Smokey back to the couch, Lokas was holding a bag of chocolate chip cookies in the air. She snatched it from him with a suspicious glare. Goddamn know-it-all asshole.
What was that?
Sorry, that was for him.
She handed the bag to Smokey, who seemed delighted – but in a subdued way, befitting his draconic dignity. She settled in on the couch, Lokas on one side and Nadine on the other, Smokey’s head resting on the back of the couch between them. Lokas and Nadine smoked and ate ice cream, while Smokey spewed smoke and ate cookies; it was almost as heartwarming as it was strange.
♡♡♡
His mating dance leaves much to be desired.
“How are his teeth that nice? Isn’t he from the past? He probably stinks.”
♡♡♡
“If she doesn’t hurry up and let him know how she feels, he’s going to head back in time without her.”
♡♡♡
I don’t understand why her brother does not set fire to the institution in which he has been imprisoned.
♡♡♡
“Why haven’t they fucked yet?”
♡♡♡
“She should know better than to ask him to compromise his integrity, sure, but he shouldn’t be applying the ethical considerations of a duke to the world of 20th century advertising.”
♡♡♡
“Wait, why did she go back in time? Why didn’t he just come back to the future after he… invented shit? Bitch, you barely know the guy, don’t be going back to a time before vibrators for his ass, I don’t care if he is Wolverine.”
“Dean, I don’t think you get to criticize other people’s romantic decisions.”
I thought it was touching. Kind of.
Nadine Pascal-Said 