Ideworld Chronicles: The Art Mage

Act 2 Chapter 3: Instincts


Day in the story: 2nd December (Tuesday)

"Cheer up, girl, you made good progress," Dam said as I slumped down on the floor. Today's session had been grueling. I'd started with a few paintings at home, stirring up my shadowlight without any particular trigger, then arrived at the Lebens' training hall ready to throw cards at Dam, who had decided to make it harder by occasionally attacking me.

"It seemed to me you succeeded a few times. Was I mistaken?"

"No, you're right. Two times during your attacks, I managed to turn cards into steel purely on instinct, no conscious thought."

"I thought so. That's great."

"No, it sucks. It takes me so long to learn. You told me it took you around a hundred attempts. I lost count how many times I've tried already."

He sat down beside me and put an arm around me in what I guessed was a fatherly gesture. I let him. It felt… nice.

"Tell me," he said, "when you paint or draw, generally when you make art, are you thinking about the next brush stroke or line?"

"Sometimes," I admitted, "but for the most part it's instinctual now."

"So your body, mind, or soul, or all three, learned how to respond to your intent. You didn't put yourself through training just to learn that, right? It happened anyway."

"True. So… you're saying I should stop this?"

"No." He shook his head. "I'm pointing out that it will happen one day anyway, whether you train or not, as long as you keep doing it."

I sighed. He was probably right, but it wasn't as hopeful as he made it sound. I wanted progress faster.

"What about the other thing I asked about today? Range manipulation."

"That will probably come harder for you," Dam said, "since your Domain is rooted in touch and handheld tools. However, you do have something that could help you greatly."

"What is it?"

"When you put shadowlight into objects, a link forms between you and it. You can feel it."

It wasn't really a question, but I nodded anyway.

"You and I are lucky in that department. Our Domains let us imbue objects with our shadowlight, carrying our authority. That creates a stable link between you and your art. I think that if you want to be able to create such a link at range, you should first study one: observe it, see what makes it work, how the shadowlight carries authority, if it even still does after the item is initially imbued. Then learn to close it, take your authority back, remove the link."

"Like forced negatives in physical training?"

"Good analogy," he said, nodding. "When you learn how to remove your authority cleanly, it will be the first step toward learning how to send authority through those links at range and how to create them."

"Are you really sure, Dam? I feel like I'm still missing something, even with this instinctual training. Was repetition really the only thing you did until it clicked?"

That question actually gave him pause. He twirled the end of his long mustache and looked down at his feet, thinking.

"He isn't," Ariana said as she walked in, carrying a tray of sandwiches. They looked hearty enough to energize me for the rest of the day.

Dam smiled up at his wife, he really did love her dearly.

"It's what he did a long time ago and it worked for him," she continued, "but I think he's forgotten the most important part of it."

"What was that, honey?" Dam asked.

"After one too many tries, he realized something. He did something different and it finally hit him, just enough, like the first crack that lets water seep through a dam, until the whole thing breaks. Once it breaks, it can hold the water no more."

"Oh, you are so poetic, my sweet blueberry!" Dam laughed, grabbing her by the waist and planting a kiss on her. I turned my head away. They should really do that in private, but Dam was never the sort of man you could stop from expressing his feelings.

When they finally came up for air, Ariana went on.

"This power we have is part of us, but we still have to learn how it works, what its rules are. Some dams, we build ourselves, to protect us from something that could hurt us. Some are built by the power itself, to be taken down when we're ready. It's our job to figure out which is which and why they're there, so they won't limit us anymore."

"Oh honey, that is so true," Dam agreed, "but what better way to figure that out than to repeat, repeat, repeat, until you see something you couldn't see before?"

"Alexa," Ariana said, turning back to me, "Dam is partially right. Exercises like these can, let's say, brute-force revelations eventually, but not because of repetition alone. One day, you'll get bored of doing it exactly the same way and you'll try something different and that will help you see what you've been missing."

She was absolutely right. It had been just like that today.

"You should have been the one to train me," I told her and Dam made a mock-offended face.

"Dam, you went on the offensive today and that was the only time I managed to do it, right? We never tried that before."

"Yes, but I attacked you many times today," he reminded me, "and you managed it twice."

"Yeah, maybe something was different about those attacks, or about my stance, or my mindset. Would you like to go again?"

"Always!"

Ariana raised the tray, reminding us about the sandwiches. We each grabbed one and bit in on the spot, I was dead right, they were splendid. It felt like I'd been injected with pure, distilled power. Unfortunately, Dam felt the same: he turned his arms into hard, salt-like crystals and smashed them together.

"Fan-TASTIC!" he bellowed, his voice rumbling through the entire hall.

"I'll put the rest in the saferoom," Ariana said, carrying the tray away. Before leaving, she gave me a look full of gentle care, then shot a frown at Dam. "Please, Dam, try not to break her."

She closed the steel-reinforced door behind her and I was left alone with this beast of a man.

The moment I looked back at him, his legs shifted, they bent backward like a grasshopper's and with a single explosive kick, he leapt straight at me. Fists of hardened salt slammed into my stomach.

If I hadn't been wearing my suit, I'd have been snapped in half by that blow, then ground to paste against the wall. Even with the suit, it hurt like a motherfucker. I smashed into the wall, bones rattling, but I wasn't broken.

As I hit, I planted my feet against the wall, letting the rabbit boots engage. Instead of crumpling, I launched myself off it like a missile. Dam's follow-up strike missed completely and blew a hole in the wall instead, while I shot across the room and landed on the far side.

As I twisted to face him, I snatched a card from my holder.

Become the fire, I commanded in my mind, hurling it toward Dam as he charged once more.

He reacted on instinct, crossing his arms in a chitinous block to shield his face. But instead of becoming a piercing projectile, the card simply transformed into flame, no weight, no bite and lost all momentum. It fluttered to the ground like burning paper instead of slicing like a blade of steel.

Another failure.

When Dam saw that the card failed to change properly, he leapt at me again, transforming one of his arms into a whipping tentacle to grab me from range. I dodged underneath at the last second and the tentacle slammed into the wall behind me, leaving a crater in the concrete.

I jumped away again, hurling another fire card at him in midair. Become the fire! I commanded, but once more, it fizzled, turning into harmless flame and falling far short of the range a steel card should have carried.

I landed and he was already there, impossibly fast for his sheer mass. He smashed down on me from above with both of his massive, salt-encrusted arms.

I crossed my forearms to block, but the shock reverberated through my entire body, rattling bones and armor alike. The blow drove me to the ground, forcing me to crouch under the pressure.

Pain burned through my arms, but I planted one hand to the ground and used it, along with my feet, to launch myself sideways before he could slam me again with a leg now transformed into a bull's thick, stomping hoof.

I rolled as I landed, narrowly dodging a follow-up strike from another tentacle, this one bristling with salt-like crystal spikes. Instinctively, I grabbed a card from my belt and raised it to block.

Dam's tentacle recoiled instantly, spraying blood where it collided with the sharp steel edge of the card. I froze in shock, it had become steel, hard as a blade, even though I hadn't consciously commanded it to change.

A flash of triumph barely registered before Dam's fist slammed into my gut, launching me like a rag doll across the training hall.

I hit the ground with a bone-jarring crash, stunned and breathless.

This man. This fucking man, I thought, gasping. He won't even let me have my little victory.

I stood up just in time to raise both arms and block his salted fist. The punch sent a shockwave ripping through the air and through me, slamming me against the wall again.

Another punch came and I blocked it, gritting my teeth against the sting. Oh reality, how it hurts.

He swung a third time, but I kicked his knee just before the strike landed. His leg reinforced with chitinous plating, but my suit gave me enough strength to throw him off balance.

I seized the moment to leap toward the ceiling, twisting midair before springing off the wall to the opposite side.

I reached for a card and hurled it at him. Become the fire.

The damn fiery paper fluttered uselessly to the ground, failure again. Why!?

I landed and he was already beside me. His face grotesquely twisted, morphing into that of an octopus, long ginger hair, a wild mustache and beard framing strange deep-sea creature eyes.

What the hell?

Before I could react, he spat at me.

Black ink exploded across my vision. I couldn't see a damn thing.

I stumbled and rolled blindly, dodging his strikes by instinct. But I could feel him closing in, fast.

Before I knew it, I slammed into the wall, disoriented. Where the hell am I in this room?

I jumped away, desperate, but he caught my leg and flung me through the air.

He would fucking kill me and there was nothing I could do. The ink was thick and sticky; I could barely speak. What the hell?

I stood up, hands raised in a desperate plea for him to stop, but he struck me in the stomach instead, sending me flying.

FUCK, Dam! Stop for once!

Another hit knocked me back. I think it was a kick, I needed to see. I needed to see.

I reached for my holder and grabbed one of my eye-cards. Become eyes, I thought, tossing it out.

My vision returned, but at a weird angle. I dodged a clumsy attack and threw another card: Be the eyes.

And another. And another. Five more flew out in every direction, each infused with eye identity. Slowly, I could see the battlefield properly.

He jumped at me again. I ducked under his strike, then punched him hard in the stomach, then another, then a flurry of jabs that pushed him back, forcing him to block.

I was mad. Furious. He wanted to kill me. I knew I couldn't trust him.

Finally, he blocked one of my punches and swung a fist, but I jumped and slammed a strong kick into his face.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He flew backward, crashing to the ground.

I didn't hesitate. I leapt on top of him and pounded his face with every ounce of fury I had, until it was a bloody pulp.

Then, suddenly, a deep laugh echoed.

His face began to reform. He was laughing.

It caught me off guard. With a sweep of his arm, he threw me aside.

"GOOD!" he bellowed. "Good, Alexa!"

What?

"Let me help you with that." His face shifted again as he squirted a watery substance on mine. The ink dissolved.

I took a deep breath.

"WHAT THE FUCK, DAM!?" I shouted, finally able to speak. "You wanted to kill me?!"

"Look, girl!" he bellowed, arms spread wide. "Look through your beautiful extra eyes and your own."

I looked.

Those cards I'd thrown, the ones I'd asked to be eyes, were stuck fast, thrust into the walls, floor and ceiling like steel.

Steel, something I never consciously willed.

"I did it?" I asked, disbelief still lingering.

"Yes, you did, girl. That was a damn good fight. I feel great, thanks."

I looked at him and if my eyes could kill, he'd be dead. Instead, he just laughed again.

"Dam, you almost killed me."

"And that's exactly why I did it." He smiled wide. "You stopped thinking and just did what had to be done. Your authority moved because it was the right thing to do, not because you asked it to."

"I stopped thinking about steel a long time ago. It didn't work anyway, Dam."

"You think you stopped thinking, girl. But you were obsessed with making it work, I know it. You never missed a training day in Reality, only knows how many days now."

Was he right? Maybe it was always on my mind. Had I been interfering with the process?

"Cut off my finger, girl! Do it now!"

"You're crazy, again?" I asked as he straightened his arm into a reverse punch, then extended only the middle finger. Oh, fuck this guy!

I pulled a card from my holder and slashed it across his finger. It fell to the ground and Dam's ecstatic laughter echoed once more.

"See! I was right." His finger began regrowing, his powers were terrifying. "Did you think about the card or not? Did I make you angry enough to stop thinking?"

"You actually did," I admitted. "But don't think it's all thanks to you, Ariana came up with the proper thought."

"Even better!" he bellowed, slinging his arm around my shoulders. "Come on, I'll help you gather your cards. You did great today, Alexa. I bet it'll be much easier from now on."

He was probably right. Instincts, after all, are what we fall back on when there's no time to think and life's on the line. I'd never really thought about them before.

**********

"Hello, Mr. Penrose," I said as I appeared inside his office at the Finests. After his turf war with Robert de Marco ended, he'd renovated and repainted the place, firmly reestablishing himself here as the mastermind behind all the operations again.

He'd asked me to come as soon as I could and since I'd just finished my lectures and teleported home a few minutes ago, I saw no reason to delay.

The moment I arrived, I felt Rei's shadow manipulation reach out, his authority battling mine to hold me in place. Rei was "shadowing" Penrose everywhere now, having earned a place as his personal guard.

"Let her go, Rei." Penrose's voice cut through and Yamashiro's intrusion ended, though not instantly. This man loved his power and relished having a relatively safe space to wield it on others. I didn't trust him one bit.

"Alexandra, welcome." Penrose stood to greet me. "Go out now, Rei."

I could tell Rei didn't like it one bit, but he obeyed. As he closed the door behind him, Phillip continued.

"I asked you here because I finally found where the guild keeps their Domains' records. I want you to help me, make a copy."

"The United States Guild, sir? Or some lesser one?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.

"No, not the U.S.G., Alexandra. Beatrice said their protections would be too strong for us to overcome, for now."

Beatrice was better now, working for Penrose willingly, or so it seemed. I suspected she was playing her own game, trying to get revenge on the still-missing Eveline.

When Robert de Marco found out, through some miraculous circumstance, which might have been my doing but certainly wasn't, that Eveline was alive, he agreed to end the conflict with Penrose, declaring any debts between them null and void. Phillip didn't mind at all.

"It's a guild that calls themselves Edge of Tomorrow."

"Like the tech company on the artificial island?" I asked.

"Yes, apparently it's one and the same," he confirmed. "Tech companies are just fronts. They're using them to conduct magical experiments disguised as technological development, so Reality won't interfere. Beatrice has been following one of the CEOs, Alicia Bergman, for quite some time now. She's pretty sure Alicia keeps records on every one of her mages, including the locations of their Domains within Ideworld. And I want it, Alexandra. I want a list of Domains to choose from."

"I'll get right on it, sir. I'll head there today for the first reconnaissance."

"There's no deadline, Alexandra. Better to do it well than hastily. Think it through, see the place, meet the people. You know how to handle it best. I'll be here if you need any resources."

I knew I wasn't the only one he'd assigned to this task. He didn't trust me like he used to and I certainly didn't trust him anymore. Still, we kept dancing this delicate dance.

This place he wanted me to check out, I didn't mention to him that I already had a way in. Zoe had started her internship at one of the AI companies there about three weeks ago, chasing a dream of hers. I wondered if she knew what really hid behind those computer windows, or the curtains behind them.

"If that's all for now, sir," I said, eager to leave.

"No, there's one more thing. Thomas mentioned your railgun pistol the other day and I was thinking about the suit you made. Can you make more of the weapon and the armor?"

"No, sir," I lied smoothly. "My authority only lets me make one of each. I've tried."

"I understand. That's all then. Good day, Alexandra."

He returned to whatever he was working on, expecting me to disappear and so I vanished into my Domain.

**********

I was Elle Erikson now: a blonde woman with a neat bob haircut, silver eyes and wide-rimmed glasses that softened the sharp edges of my face. A faint smattering of freckles crossed my cheeks. I wore simple blue jeans, a warm, comfortable sweater and a lightweight coat, casual, but thoughtful.

Alexandra had shaped this persona carefully: someone intelligent and observant, yet easily forgettable. Someone who could slip through the cracks and notice the smallest details. This wasn't just makeup; it was art given an identity.

I arrived on the island by a small bus that carried both visitors and workers. My fellow passengers wore loose, practical clothing, tuned in to their own worlds: some with music in their ears, others buried in notebooks, typing away on laptops or sketching on tablets. I was the odd one out, with nothing but a simple handbag over my shoulder.

When I stepped off the bus, I was surprised not to catch the scent of the river. It struck me as strange, the Hudson and East Rivers usually carried a sharp, briny tang, especially near Battery Park. The absence was unsettling, though I filed it away for later.

I paused in front of the main building. Then again, even this grass under my feet was a building, wasn't it? The entire island was artificial, engineered from the ground up. Which made me wonder what might lie hidden underneath, things Alexandra would certainly be interested in.

The building before me was a tower, one of four of differing heights that seemed to sprout directly from the earth. This one was the tallest: a spear of steel and glass thrust toward the sky. The entire arrangement looked like a gigantic hand emerging from the river, its clawed fingers extended skyward. Even the island's layout included what looked like a thumb, forming the base for a bridge that connected it to Manhattan.

Alexandra actually lived not far from here, but right now, that didn't matter.

I was waiting for a friend of hers, Zoe Harper and she arrived right on time. She wore a simple two-piece business suit that looked good on her, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail that swung behind her as she jogged toward the front of the building. I gave a small wave to catch her attention.

She slowed down, approaching me warily.

"Alexa?" she asked.

"Yes. Hi, Zoe." I answered, dropping Elle's identity, letting the facade fade away.

"I wasn't sure at all until just a second ago," she admitted. "You look different, you even stood and moved differently than usual. Wow, color me impressed, girl." She smiled warmly, though her cold, precise eyes still scanned me head to toe, analyzing as always.

"Well, I cheated a little," I told her. "Most of my life I've played different people, but these days I help myself with a bit of extra juice, changing my identity from the inside out. It's a crazy feeling."

"I already asked about any job openings, after you told me… you know what." She meant what I'd explained on the phone about Penrose's instructions.

"Anything?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid," Zoe said, shaking her head. "Crystal-Clean is looking for a cleaner, that's it."

"A cleaner? You mean someone who sweeps floors, scrubs toilets, stuff like that?" I asked.

"Exactly. Crystal-Clean is a company with its headquarters here, but they only clean on the island itself. Like I said, shitty work. Probably not what you were hoping for, right?"

I grinned. "Zoe, my sweet summer child. That's exactly what I'm looking for."

She raised an eyebrow while I pulled out my phone, quickly texting Penrose: Need a killer CV for Elle Erikson. Qualified to clean high-security, high-profile sites. ASAP.

Then I turned to Zoe. "Can you lead me to their office? And don't freak out, okay? I'm going to let Elle take over as my standard persona while I'm here."

"Sure," Zoe replied with a slight chuckle. "Go for it."

Become Elle Erikson, I thought and a wave of changes rolled through me, mind and body language shifting. Alexandra was gone again. Too free-spirited to survive this place. It was easier when she just watched.

Zoe Harper led me into the building. Everyone I saw used simple cards, working both as keys and IDs. We approached two security guards, who promptly stepped forward to intercept me.

"This is my friend Elle," Zoe began.

"Elle Erikson," I finished for her. "I'm looking for a cleaner job at Crystal-Clean."

"I don't think they have any interviews scheduled for today, right Jack?" one of the guards said, glancing at the other.

"Not mine," I confirmed.

"Then I'm sorry," the first guard told me, "but we can't let you through."

"She's my friend, Tom," Zoe interjected, "I told her about the opening so she could get a head start. It's a new posting."

"I'm sorry, Zoe, rules are rules," Tom replied with a shrug. "Only employees or pre-approved visitors."

My phone buzzed just then, an email from Penrose with the CV Alexandra's requested. Perfect.

"I understand gentlemen," I told them, stepping back toward the waiting lounge. Zoe followed.

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting down beside me. "I really thought I could get you inside… Elle."

"It's fine," I reassured her. "You already gave me the intel I needed, plus a personal connection to leverage if necessary. That's more than enough. You can go now, I'll take it from here."

"Wow," she exhaled softly, studying me. "You really are… different, aren't you?"

I offered a faint smile. She sighed, gave me a quick wave and left.

Once she was gone, I pulled up the contact number for Crystal-Clean from their public listing and dialed. A forty-minute conversation later, I was asked to wait in the lobby. Twenty minutes after that, someone came down to meet me in person.

He was a Black man in his forties, immaculately dressed in a tailored suit, moving with controlled, almost meticulous precision. Definitely a man who lived up to his company's name.

"Elle Erikson?" he asked, approaching me.

"Mr. Adrian Brawn, I presume?" I answered.

"Yes. We spoke on the phone," he confirmed with a polite nod. "I ran through your CV and called your previous employer after we finished talking. I'm willing to give you a chance, but wanted to meet you face-to-face first."

"I hope this meeting hasn't changed your first impression."

"Not at all." A small approving smile. "How soon can you start?"

"As soon as you're ready with the paperwork."

"I like that," he said. "I like that you insist on proper order. You have good instincts. We do have a few interviews scheduled for tomorrow since we already posted the opening, but I'd be surprised if anyone else was more qualified. Can you start on Friday?"

"Yes. Please email me the details," I replied.

"Good," he said, extending a hand for me to shake. "I hope you'll find our work environment satisfying."

**********

"Once again, you're right on time, Lexy," Jason said as he opened the door to his apartment. I just smiled.

"Seriously, how?" he went on. "Do you come early and then just wait until the exact second to knock?"

"Oh, I bet you'd love it if I waited for you," I teased.

He sighed dramatically and stepped aside to let me in. He was wearing a casual grey-and-silver suit, paired with sporty white shoes. The colors brought out his green eyes nicely and would go well with my red dress, green scarf and denim jacket.

The moment I stepped in, I started kicking off my heels, I hated those things and only wore them for appearances. Never felt the need to seem taller than I was.

"I never understood how some people wear shoes inside the house," I teased again. "Is it some wealth thing?"

"I was just trying the outfit on," he protested. "Come on, Lexy, don't be like that again."

Yeah, I might have poked fun at him for it once or twice before. He liked to dress sharp, probably a bit more than the average guy, but I didn't mind.

"Are you taking me somewhere tonight?" I asked, hopping up to sit on his kitchen counter and swinging my legs.

He stepped closer, planting his hands on either side of me, his chest brushing my knees as he looked up at me with a mischievous glint. My breath caught and I bit my lip, heat sparking through me.

"Would you like to be taken?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

I nodded slowly.

In a flash, I leapt at him. He caught me by the hips, hands firm under my ass as I wrapped my legs around him, arms around his shoulders. Our lips crashed together in a hungry kiss.

He shifted, carrying me still wrapped around him, until we landed on the couch with me straddling him. I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it aside and kept kissing him, feeling the primal edge in his hungry gaze.

I started unbuttoning his shirt while he gripped the hem of my dress and tugged it upward, helping me pull it over my head.

"No bra?" he asked, pausing to glance at my freckled breasts.

"Do you see one?" I teased back, leaning down to gently bite his earlobe, which I knew drove him crazy.

He shivered against me, a soft gasp leaving his lips as I ground myself against his lap. I trailed my tongue along the curve of his ear, down to his neck, then lower, leaving wet kisses across his chest.

I paused to taste each of his nipples, loving how he shuddered under me, before my hand moved to his trousers. He moaned as I undid the zipper and slid down, my tongue tracing a wet path along his stomach, exactly where I knew he liked it best.

Jason's breath hitched as I slid lower, pleasuring him with just the right pressure, just the right rhythm. His hands tangled in my hair, guiding me, but I paused with a wicked grin and pulled myself back up, straddling him again – more intimate now.

He let out a wicked sound, but I silenced it with another deep kiss. We moved together, a quiet rhythm building, every touch sending little sparks through me.

His hands roamed over my back, my sides, finding every sensitive spot like he'd memorized a map of me. My own fingers tangled in his hair as our movements grew more urgent, less restrained.

In that moment, it was like the rest of the world went silent. Just him, just me and that pulse of want that seemed to flood everything else.

Somewhere in the blur of heat and breath and tangled limbs, we finally gave in, letting ourselves drown in the moment, letting all the tension break.

Afterward, we stayed wrapped up in each other, breathing hard, skin still buzzing with the afterglow.

Jason traced lazy circles on my hip, smiling up at me.

"Was that a yes to going out later?" he teased, voice rough and low.

I laughed, pressing my forehead against his.

"Maybe," I murmured. "Depends if you have anything left to impress me with."

His grin turned positively wicked.

"So, I impressed you this time?"

"I did most of the work," I teased, slipping off his lap and bending to gather my dress from the floor, "but you weren't bad yourself." I pulled it on slowly, adjusting the hem, then tugged my stockings back into place.

"You liked it, Lexy. Don't pretend."

"Would I have started it if I didn't?" I shot back, arching an eyebrow.

That seemed to catch him off guard. He went quiet, thoughtful, which was rare for him.

"What's with the sudden mood shift, Jason?" I asked, perching on the couch with my knees folded beside him, tying my hair back.

"I don't know." He hesitated, searching for words. "We've been together what, two months?"

"About eight weeks, yeah."

"Right. And don't get me wrong, Lexy, I love spending time with you, talking, going out, being…like this. But you knew how I felt about you from the start. And I still don't know where I stand with you."

"What do you mean? I'm your girlfriend." I frowned, trying to read him.

He looked me straight in the eyes, vulnerable for once. "I mean…I like you. A lot. I think I might even be in love with you."

Ah. That.

I did like him, more than I ever thought I would and the time we'd carved out together had grown precious to me. But love? I wasn't sure.

"Jason," I began carefully.

He sighed, bracing himself. "Here it comes…"

"I don't love you," I told him plainly, watching his shoulders tense. "I'm not thinking about you every minute of every day, or dreaming about you in my sleep. You knew from the start that there was…an imbalance between us. And I wanted to give it a chance to even out."

He swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"

"It means," I continued, "that eight weeks ago I didn't like you all that much. But now? I like you. A lot. I enjoy being with you, I truly do. You've shown me you're not the shallow guy I assumed you were, there's depth there and it's worth exploring. I won't lie to you with a fake love confession, but if you don't mind me sticking around, maybe one day it won't be fake anymore."

His relief was almost tangible. "So…you're not breaking up with me?"

"Why would I?" I laughed, genuinely amused.

"I don't know, I told you I loved you and you started your answer with my name. I thought…"

"You thought wrong, moron," I said, flicking his shoulder. "Didn't you brag the other day about having impeccable instincts with women?"

He relaxed then, finally chuckling. "Yeah, I'm starting to think you don't count as one."

I smirked, leaning closer to steal a quick kiss. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me all day."

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