Chapter 24

“So, what’ve you been up to while I was gone?”

Honestly, it hadn’t even been four days—asking felt a little ridiculous. Still, it wasn't as if her life was packed with excitement.

Work. Clock out. A couple of cold beers and fried chicken with Lieutenant Camillia Ovia. Then scouring the forums to see if any of her favorite actors had a new project lined up. A completely average four days.

“Don’t tell me you just ate whatever was around and spent the whole time with James again.”

“James hasn’t had anything new lately...”

Lieutenant Erabelle Vermilion met Commander Dezeb Avganis’s smiling gaze and forced a faint smile of her own.

“Am I not enough for you?”

“They say you can never have too many beautiful people in your life.”

“...”

Dezeb covered his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking in quiet, breathy laughter. Maybe a sudden wave of melancholy had hit him out of nowhere. Or maybe the Merchants’ Union stock had taken a dive.

“Eat up. You won’t be getting any sleep tonight anyway.”

“...”

Is it my turn to cry now? she wondered. One thing about him was always consistent: he was relentlessly, terrifyingly kind.

If she hadn’t read the original material... if the last two years hadn’t happened... or if she hadn’t witnessed the literal slaughterhouse he’d carved out in her office just this morning...

If not for all of that, she might have fallen for the act, let herself be deceived, and died in an instant. Life would have been so much simpler that way... Oh, wait. I have extra backup slots. And I'm a genetic match.

Right. My situation is definitely worse.

“Want dessert?”

“Yes, I’ll have cake.”

“Alright. Eat as much as you want,” he said with an easy, charming smile.

Since she had skipped lunch to prepare for overtime, Erabelle didn’t hold back.

“Want to go for a walk after this? The promenade out here is beautiful.”

She wanted to say no. She really, desperately did. But of course, the refusal died in her throat. Before she knew it, they were strolling along the high-altitude observation trail.

Yes, the view was spectacular—shielded from the freezing vacuum of space, the starlit path shimmered with cosmic light—but...

“You look exhausted.”

“Sorry. I guess I’m just not in great shape today.”

More than anything, she just wanted to sink into a chair and stay still.

“You need to keep moving if you want to build up stamina.”

If I keep moving, I won’t even have enough stamina left to draw breath, she thought. But again, she kept her mouth shut. Lacking the courage to openly defy him, she opted for a tactical detour.

“Didn’t you say we needed to stop by the market? We could get our walking done there, maybe?”

“Don’t try to dodge exercise by getting clever.”

Still, she thought it was a solid effort.

Eventually, after dragging her feet through the entire length of the trail, they finally made it to the market in the nearby civilian colony.

Which naturally raised the question: If we were going to walk around the store anyway, why the hell did we have to march down the trail first?

To make matters worse, the environment here was even more surreal.

“They’re running a promotion on Pistis beer. Buy two, get one free. What do you think?”

A three-for-two promo... A cosmic miracle, truly. Erabelle’s eyes lit up with genuine excitement.

“Erabelle, you know quality matters more than sheer volume.”

“Pistis almost never runs sales like this.”

“They don’t need to. I’m rich.”

She knew that. Dezeb Avganis was easily one of the wealthiest men in the entire Nover Federation. But she wasn’t, and she was not about to pass up a bargain.

“If you want it that badly, go ahead.”

Overjoyed at his permission, Erabelle flagged down a clerk and ordered two entire crates. Which meant—thanks to the promotion—she walked out with three.

As she practically glowed at this magical multiplication of alcohol, Dezeb leveled a bewildered look at her.

“How do you plan on hauling all that?”

“I’ll just stash it in Miro.”

“Oh, right. The garbage bin.”

The “garbage bin” in question currently had less than two percent waste occupying its storage capacity...

“I cleared it out,” she said defensively.

“And what does clearing out a trash bin make it?”

“A... clean trash bin.”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

She wanted to argue, but unfortunately, she had thrown actual trash into Miro before. She had no legal defense.

“Let’s grab some meat while we’re here.”

They wove their way through the aisles. Dezeb picked out a few thick cuts of steak, fresh green beans, fruit, salad greens, and even a bottle of red wine for cooking. All fresh. All ingredients that required labor-intensive prep.

And since he strictly refused to let Miro store fresh food, they had to carry everything back onto the Antares by hand.

A single dinner with this man required deploying a whole brigade-level flagship. For an ordinary person, the sheer stress of it all could rupture an internal organ. Even the stares from the Dogs waiting aboard the vessel were suffocating.

What is with those eyes... It’s terrifying...

Fortunately, the ship was equipped with a high-grade mobile transit system, so they arrived back at the residence faster than a local grocery run.

“I don’t think all of this is going to fit in the fridge...”

As she began unloading the bags onto the kitchen counter, Dezeb leaned in without warning and pressed his lips to hers.

A soft, deliberate kiss. The smooth line of his jaw brushed against her skin as he lightly tugged at her lower lip.

Erabelle stood frozen, posture stiff, her mouth parting slightly to let him deepen the kiss at his own pace.

“The fridge is a bit cramped for two people,” he murmured, resting his hands on her hips and drawing her flush against his body.

Then, in one effortless movement, he scooped her up—one arm locked around her waist, the other slid beneath her thighs.

He kissed her again. A light, lingering brush of his lips. Once, twice. The chemical calm brought on by the sedatives began to dull the sharp edges of her tension.

“I should... put the groceries away...”

“Mm.”

He didn’t slow down. Instead, he carried her straight into the bathroom and set her down gently on the tiled rim of the tub.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a slim silver case.

“Just one cigarette.”

He snapped it open and popped a stick between his lips.

It was a standard blend laced with heavy muscle relaxants. For AT-types, who were prone to violent sensory overloads, it was practically a household staple, and he used them frequently.

Still, it was the first time he had lit one inside the house.

“I’ve been too wound up lately.”

Perhaps picking up on her silent, questioning gaze, he glanced down at her with a roguish smirk.

A hot flush crept up her neck—a purely involuntary physiological response, no different than a bruise forming after an impact.

Setting the lit cigarette on the shelf for a moment, he leaned in close.

“Raise your arms.”

Lieutenant Erabelle Vermilion raised her arms without a second's delay. Commander Dezeb Avganis pulled her shirt over her head, letting out a soft, dark chuckle.

Her shoulders bunched up as his lips brushed against her bare skin.

“The water temperature is acting up again. I think I need to swap out the heating element.”

He adjusted the fluctuating controls as he spoke. While the tub began to fill, he stripped away the rest of her clothes. She trembled like a stray caught in a downpour, consumed by an unavoidable, instinctual fear.

“Isn’t tonight the airtime for the Night-Night Show? Should we watch it together later with a drink?”

“I have a shift tomorrow...”

“We’ll sleep when we’re done.”

“I was only joking about keeping you up all night,” he said, lifting Erabelle directly onto his lap.

“You didn’t actually take me seriously, did you? I’m exhausted, too. It’s not like my stamina is endless.”

He muttered under his breath as he worked up a thick lather with a shower puff, washing her down.

The foam clinging to her shoulders soaked straight into the front of his shirt.

Erabelle leaned heavily against his chest, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.

He turned his head slightly, blowing a thin stream of smoke away from her as he reached back for his cigarette.

The tub had finished filling.

“Soak for a minute.”

Erabelle slid into the steaming water, pulling her knees tight against her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

He peeled off his soaked shirt and hung it over the edge of the sink. Erabelle averted her eyes, still unable to shake the suffocating awkwardness of the moment.

“Erabelle, the back of your neck is completely red. You’re acting so cute.”

At his teasing tone, she curled herself into an even tighter ball. Maybe I should start counting backwards again, she thought desperately, watching the water rise toward her chin.

Her eyes darted to his long, muscle-corded legs framing her on either side of the tub.

“Come here.”

That velvety voice produced the exact opposite of its intended effect. Yet after two years of fear-based conditioning, her body moved before her mind could catch up, pressing itself flush against his chest before he even finished the sentence.

Another low rumble of laughter vibrated through his ribs as he wedged his thigh between her legs, drawing her entirely into his space.

Dezeb took his time exploring her yielding frame. Tonight, he seemed committed to an excruciatingly agonizing pace.

“Are you almost done clearing out the storage bay?”

“M-maybe... two more days...”

“Always so efficient.”

His mouth captured hers with that same unhurried precision while Erabelle endured the sensory overload—every deliberate touch unspooling her tightly wound nerves until she hung entirely limp in his grip.

...This sadistic habit of his.

It’s cruel.

The way he makes his kindness feel so completely genuine.

Though her limbs felt waterlogged and heavy, he carried her effortlessly to the bedroom, humming a faint tune under his breath. But the moment he laid her back against the mattress, a fresh wave of heat crackled up her spine like a live wire.

“Nngh—!”

She twisted into the bedding, her fingers digging deep into the sheets.

“Ah! Hhk—!”

Her body, already hyper-sensitized from the scalding bath, went completely blank under his deliberate, measured movements.

“It’s alright. Just let go.”

His reassurance was as unhurried as his hands.

For some reason she couldn't quite name, Erabelle felt hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes...