Chapter 20 – A Change of Topic That’s Way Too Shameless.

Lyon was still holding the sandwich in his hand and Cya was still in front of him, waiting.

The question was still floating in the air.

"How have you felt with the new phone?"

It was a simple question.

A normal question.

A question that any person could answer with something like "fine," "I like it," "it works perfectly," or "thanks again."

The problem was that Lyon wasn't just any person.

And the phone wasn't just any phone.

It was the phone Cya had bought him from a store that was way too expensive, with a welcome screen personalized for her, with emergency priority set up, with who knows how many internal permissions and who knows how many ways of tracking it.

Lyon swallowed.

'I can't tell her I haven't used it because I think it's a trap,' he thought. 'That would sound awful. And suspicious. Really suspicious.'

The voice inside his head spoke with an annoying calm.

"You can tell her the truth."

'No.'

"That you think the phone is a Trojan horse with a touchscreen."

'No.'

"A surveillance device wrapped in expensive metal."

'No.'

"A romantic gift with tracking features."

'No!'

Lyon kept the smile on his face, though on the inside he was calculating the least disastrous way to escape that conversation.

Cya tilted her head a little.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Lyon answered quickly. "Nothing. It's just that…"

Lyon stopped because right at that moment he remembered something.

The previous morning… when the conversation had gotten uncomfortable.

When Cya had started getting too close to the truth, or at least to a point where he didn't want to be.

He had managed to change the topic on her.

How?

With a compliment.

More precisely, by telling her she was beautiful.

And to Lyon's surprise, that had worked.

Not only had it worked, it had managed to divert her attention almost perfectly.

Cya, a woman who could threaten an employee with destroying her life without moving an eyebrow, seemed to have a pretty clear weak spot.

Direct compliments.

Lyon stayed looking at her.

Cya was still waiting.

The voice inside his head seemed to notice the shift in his thoughts.

"Lyon…"

'I'm going to do it.'

"No."

'It's the only way out.'

"It's not the only way out. You can talk like a normal person."

'I can't. Not on this topic.'

"Lyon, don't use that."

Lyon completely ignored the warning. He straightened up a bit, lowered the sandwich, and looked at Cya with all the seriousness he could muster.

"Cya," he said.

She blinked.

"Yes."

"Today…" Lyon paused briefly, as if he were choosing his words carefully. "Today your outfit looks really good on you."

Cya went still.

At first, nothing happened.

Absolutely nothing.

Her expression stayed the same. Her red eyes stayed fixed on him. Her posture didn't change.

But then, little by little, almost imperceptibly, the color rose to her cheeks.

It wasn't a strong blush.

It wasn't the kind that covered her whole face.

But for someone like Cya, who normally looked carved out of ice, that tiny change was practically a shout.

Lyon saw it and his brain went click.

'It worked.'

The voice inside his head let out a low sound.

"This is going to end badly…"

Cya looked down at her own uniform, as if she had just remembered she was wearing clothes.

"This…" she murmured, in a slightly less flat tone than usual. "This is just my guild's uniform."

"Yeah, but it looks really good on you."

"It's a work uniform."

"A work uniform that looks really good on you."

Cya raised her eyes up to him.

Lyon noticed her face was still a little red.

And since the fear of talking about the phone was stronger than his common sense, he kept going.

"In fact…" Lyon added, trying to sound casual even though his heart was already starting to pound in his chest, "with that on, you look freaking hot."

Silence.

Lyon stayed still.

Cya stayed still.

The voice inside his head also stayed still.

And then Lyon processed what he had just said.

'…I went too far.'

Yes.

He had definitely gone too far.

One thing was telling her she looked pretty.

Another thing was straight-up telling a guild leader that she looked freaking hot in the middle of his apartment, while they were both eating sandwiches she herself had brought him.

'Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Why did I say that? Why did I have to use that word? I could have said elegant. I could have said professional. I could have said striking. But no. My mouth decided to commit suicide.'

Lyon opened his mouth to fix it.

"Cya, I—"

But he didn't get there.

Because Cya raised a hand and covered her mouth.

Lyon froze.

She didn't look angry.

She didn't look offended.

She didn't look about to hit him, arrest him, or call someone to take his apartment away.

She looked…

Embarrassed.

Cya had her eyes slightly averted, her cheeks a little redder than before and her fingers covering her lips as if she didn't quite know what to do with the expression that was trying to come out.

"You…" she murmured, slowly. "You are quite the exaggerator."

Lyon blinked.

'…It worked way too well.'

The voice spoke in a dark tone.

"Lyon."

'Not now.'

"Lyon."

'Not now.'

Lyon felt like he had just found an emergency exit in a burning building.

He couldn't stop.

If he stopped, Cya would go back to the topic of the phone. And if she went back to the topic of the phone, he'd have to lie badly, admit too much, or come off as paranoid.

So he smiled a little.

A nervous smile, yes.

But a smile at last.

"I'm not exaggerating," Lyon insisted. "Not at all."

Cya was still covering her mouth.

"You are exaggerating…"

"No. Look, if it were a lie, I'd tell you. Well, no, I wouldn't tell you because it would be rude, but the point is that it isn't a lie."

"That doesn't make much sense…"

"I'm nervous. Let me explain."

"You don't have to explain."

The voice inside his head sighed.

"This is a slow-motion tragedy…"

Lyon ignored the voice and carefully gestured at Cya's uniform, without touching her, just tracing shapes in the air.

"The uniform has a really good cut. It doesn't look like one of those uniforms that only work for making you look serious and that's it. Like, you can tell it's high quality. It makes you look professional, but it doesn't cover you up weirdly. It hugs your figure without looking uncomfortable."

Cya lowered her eyes a little more.

"I see…"

"And the dark details go really well with your hair. That helps a lot. Not everyone can wear a uniform like that without looking like they're trying to intimidate everyone."

"I do intimidate everyone…" Cya murmured, almost under her breath.

"Yeah, but on you it works."

Cya stayed quiet.

Lyon, feeling that the conversation was now far from the phone, made the mistake of gaining confidence.

"Also," he added, "the chest part is really well fitted."

Cya looked up sharply.

"The chest part?"

Lyon felt like he had just stepped on a landmine.

But he was already on it.

He couldn't step back without making it worse.

"Yeah," he clarified, faking a calm he didn't have. "I mean, not in a vulgar way. I'm not saying that. I just mean the uniform… highlights it. Naturally. Like it was made for you."

Cya went completely red.

Not by a lot.

But enough for Lyon to notice without any doubt.

The voice inside his head exploded.

"Lyon!"

'I'm improvising!'

"You're digging your own grave!"

'But the phone conversation is dead!'

"But now YOU are going to die!"

Lyon swallowed, but kept going.

"And the back part is also really well designed," he continued, now with his voice slightly faster from the panic. "Because it doesn't look stiff. There are uniforms that make people look like a walking box, but yours doesn't. Yours brings out your figure. Especially when you walk. It makes you look… well… like a model with a really nice butt."

Cya squeezed the sandwich with both hands. The bread sank a little between her fingers.

Lyon noticed that.

'Okay. I'm overdoing it. I'm overdoing it way too much.'

Cya lowered her head. Her black hair covered part of her face.

And then, for the first time, her voice came out clearly embarrassed.

"Please…" she asked. "Stop..."

Lyon stopped instantly.

"Yes. Of course. I'm stopping. Sorry."

The voice inside his head spoke at the same time, annoyed.

"Yes, stop. That's enough."

Lyon blinked.

'You too?'

"Yes. Me too."

'Why are YOU annoyed?'

"Because you're acting like that Cya girl is the prettiest thing in the world, and she isn't."

Lyon was a little surprised.

'…What?'

The voice made an offended sound.

"Don't make me repeat it."

'No, no. Wait. Did it bother you that I complimented her?'

"It bothered me that you exaggerated."

'But that was the point. I was changing the topic.'

"Well, change it with less enthusiasm."

'Are you upset just because of that?'

The voice stayed quiet.

A short silence.

But enough.

Lyon widened his eyes a bit.

'No way…'

"I'm not jealous," she blurted out immediately.

'Huh? But I didn't say that.'

"You thought it, and I'm not jealous. I'm just telling the truth. The body you have when you transform into a woman is a lot prettier than that Cya girl's."

Lyon stayed staring into space.

From the outside, he probably looked like he had just gotten lost in thought about the sandwich.

From the inside, he was trying to process a piece of information he didn't know where to file.

'Did you just brag about my female body?'

"It's our body."

'It's my modified body.'

"When I use it, it's mine."

'That's not how it works.'

"It works that way if I say so."

Lyon brought a hand to his forehead.

'I can't with this...'

Cya, who still had her head slightly lowered, didn't seem to have noticed the mental discussion that had just taken place.

Or if she noticed that Lyon had gone quiet weirdly, she didn't comment on it.

Instead, she breathed slowly.

Then she looked up a little.

Her cheeks were still red.

And, to Lyon's surprise, she spoke.

"I…" she started.

Cya stopped.

Lyon looked at her.

"Yes?"

Cya touched a strand of black hair with the fingers of her free hand, moving it just barely, as if she needed to keep her hands occupied with something.

"I also like your hair a little."

Lyon stayed still.

"My hair?"

"Yes."

"This hair?"

"Yes."

Lyon blinked, confused.

His hair, right now, was nothing special.

It was brown hair, short, badly cut by himself with a pair of scissors in the middle of an emergency.

It wasn't a professional cut. It wasn't elegant. He wasn't even sure both sides were the same length.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Cya nodded.

"It has a… natural look."

"That's a polite way of saying badly cut."

"No," she answered quickly.

Too quickly.

Then she got a little embarrassed for having answered like that.

"I don't think it's badly cut," she added, more quietly. "I think it really suits your style."

Lyon didn't know what to do with that sentence.

It wasn't the most normal compliment in the world.

But coming from Cya, it sounded strangely sincere.

Cya kept touching her hair.

"And…" she said.

Lyon waited.

"I also like your eyes."

Lyon felt something on his face heat up.

He wasn't prepared for that.

Not for a compliment like that.

Not from a girl.

Not from Cya.

He could handle jokes. He could handle threats. He could handle monsters coming out of the ground, portals, suspicious phones and internal voices that insulted him from inside his own head.

But for a girl to tell him she liked his eyes…

That was different.

Really different.

"Ah…" Lyon stammered, because his brain decided not to give him any better sentence. "Thanks."

Cya looked at him attentively.

Lyon looked away a bit.

'Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't be an idiot. It's not a big deal. It's just a compliment. People compliment each other. Normal people do that…'

The problem was that in a long time no girl had said something like that to Lyon.

The girls who worked at stores or coffee shops didn't count, because they were working and were probably saying nice things out of obligation.

His mother didn't count either, because a mother could tell you that you were handsome even if you looked like a zombie after three days without sleep.

But Cya…

Cya didn't have to say it.

And that made it worse.

Much worse.

The voice inside his head coughed.

A fake cough.

A very fake one.

"Ahem."

'Don't start.'

"I just have one question."

'No.'

"Do the times I call you 'sweetheart' not count?"

Lyon pressed his lips together.

"Or the many other compliments I give you," the voice continued, more and more offended. "Because in case you don't remember, I say pretty things to you. In my own way."

'You're like a virus they injected into my mind.'

The voice made an indignant sound.

"A virus?"

'Yes.'

"A virus?"

'A really talkative one.'

"A simple virus doesn't give someone powers."

'There are viruses that do weird things.'

"Not that weird!"

'I don't know. I'm not a doctor.'

"Lyon."

'What?'

"Take that back."

'No.'

"Take back the virus thing."

'I'm not taking anything back.'

"I am a vampiric presence, powerful, beautiful, useful, entertaining and clearly necessary for your survival."

'You're a voice that lives in my head and laughs when my life gets ruined.'

"I also save your life."

'Sometimes.'

"Many times."

'Sometimes.'

Lyon had to make an enormous effort not to smile weirdly in front of Cya.

Cya, meanwhile, was still watching him.

Maybe thinking his silence was because of the compliment.

Maybe not.

With her, it was never easy to tell.

In the end, Cya lowered her gaze to the sandwich and took another small bite.

Lyon did the same, trying to use the food as an excuse to get some stability back.

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable.

Or not that much.

For the first time since she had arrived, the apartment felt less like an interrogation scene and more like a strange visit, yes, but a visit at last.

Cya ate slowly.

Lyon ate a little faster.

The voice mumbled that she wasn't jealous.

Lyon pretended not to hear her.

And the food baskets kept taking up half the living room as physical proof that Cya Hogwarts had no normal measure for anything.

After a while, Cya set what was left of her sandwich down on a napkin and wiped her fingers carefully.

Then she touched her hair again, barely, as if she were still thinking about the compliments from before.

"Lyon."

He looked up.

"Yes?"

Cya didn't look at him directly at first. Her red eyes moved toward the table, then toward one of the baskets, then toward him.

"I wanted to ask you one more thing..."

Lyon felt his body tense up by instinct.

"One more thing?"

"Yes."

The voice spoke immediately.

"If she asks about the phone, tell her again that she has a nice butt."

'I'm not going to do that.'

"Well, it worked."

'It worked too well.'

Cya took a breath. And then she asked, with a voice a little quieter than before:

"Would you like to see a movie today…?"

Thank you for reading!

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