"Are you out of your mind?"
Sunny stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at Cielle. She was standing by the front door, her hand resting on the heavy brass handle. Outside, the rain was coming down in a torrential, violent sheet, hammering against the glass panes of the new house with deafening force.
Inside, Cielle was wearing exactly one item of clothing: his oversized black shirt.
"I am going to get my toothbrush," she stated, looking at him with mild, genuine confusion, as if this completely explained everything.
"You are wearing a shirt," Sunny said, his voice rising a full octave, cracking slightly at the end. "Just a shirt. Your legs are entirely bare, Cielle. You cannot walk forty minutes through the city like that."
She looked down at her legs, wiggling her bare toes against the cool hardwood floor, then looked back at him. "My armor memory cannot be summoned right now. I can just fly over, though rain does feel terrible against my feathers. The rain can just wash my legs anyway. It is functionally the same as taking a cold shower."
"It is functionally the same as public indecency!" Sunny sputtered, violently averting his eyes. He had been trying very, very hard for the last hour to not look at her legs. The shirt hem stopped at her mid-thigh, and every time she shifted her weight, the fabric rode up just a fraction higher. Sunny was a paranoid survivor, a cold and calculating rat, but he was also a healthy young man whose brain was currently screaming at him. He forcefully stared at a very interesting knot in the wooden floorboards.
"Give me your communicator key," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending headache. "I'll go get your stuff."
Cielle frowned slightly. She stepped away from the door, the oversized sleeve of the shirt swallowing her hand. "You don't have to do that. I don't want to bother you, Sunny. I really don't mind the cold."
"I mind the fact that the Academy guards will arrest you for public indecency, and I will have to come bail you out," Sunny snapped, his Flaw forcing the absolute truth out of him. "Just go sit on the couch. Tell me what you need."
Cielle tilted her head, assessing his tone. Her green eyes searched his face for a moment, looking for anger, but finding only exasperation. "Are you sure? Do you mind doing this?"
"Sit," Sunny commanded softly, pointing at the living room.
"Okay." She tapped her communicator, transferring her dormitory access code to his. "I need my toothbrush. The plain toothpaste, not the mint one. A comb. And whatever clothes are in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. Thank you."
Sunny grabbed his heavy, water-resistant coat from the rack, muttered something highly derogatory about stubborn, flightless birds under his breath, and stepped out into the freezing downpour.
Because he was an Awakened and deeply impatient, he didn't walk the whole way. He slipped into the shadows, letting the darkness ferry him across the wet, gleaming streets of the city. When he arrived at the Academy, he slipped past the half-asleep guards and let himself into her dormitory room.
He closed the door, flicked on the pale fluorescent light, and stopped in his tracks.
Sunny had grown up in the outskirts. He knew what poverty looked like. He knew what a room looked like when someone had to scrape together every single note just to buy synthetic paste to eat. But this wasn't poverty. This was complete and utter absence.
The room looked like nobody had ever lived in it. The bed was perfectly made, but the sheets were stiff and flat, as if she barely moved when she slept. There were no posters on the walls, no cups left on the desk, no scattered shoes near the door, no discarded wrappers in the bin. Nothing. It was a sterile space.
He walked into the tiny bathroom. A single toothbrush, a tube of plain toothpaste, and a wooden comb sat in a perfectly straight line on the edge of the sink. He put them in his bag and then walked back out to open the bottom drawer of the wardrobe.
Inside were two spare grey tunics, a pair of trousers, and a small, neatly folded stack of undergarments.
Sunny felt a sudden, intense rush of heat flood his cheeks. '
Right. Obviously. Clothes include... clothes.'
He stood there for a second, swallowing hard. He gingerly reached out, using exactly two fingers, and pinched the stack of underwear, lifting it as if it were a highly volatile explosive. He practically threw it into the bag, his face burning furiously.
'Pathetic.'
Beneath the clothes, he found a worn, incredibly soft blanket, and three physical books.
He paused. Looking around the room one more time. That was it. That was everything she owned in the waking world.
Sunny stood in the quiet room, a strange, heavy feeling settling deep in his chest. She had lived here for over a month, but she hadn't claimed the space at all. She lived like a prisoner, or just someone who expected to abandon the room any day. It was a stark contrast to Sunny, who had immediately hoarded expensive tea, soft pillows, and a giant TV the second he got his hands on money, desperate to prove he owned his space.
He zipped up the bag, his jaw set in a tight line, and stepped back into the shadows.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
When he returned to the house, Cielle was exactly where he left her, curled up on his couch. He tossed the bag onto the cushion next to her.
"Everything you asked for," Sunny said, shaking the rain out of his dark hair like a wet dog.
She opened the bag and inspected the contents. "Efficient. Thank you." She reached into the bag and pulled out the grey trousers.
Before Sunny could even process what was happening, she stood up and began to slide the oversized black shirt up her thighs to step into the pants right there in the middle of his living room.
"Whoa! Hey!" Sunny yelped, spinning around so violently he nearly tripped over his own boots. He clamped his hands over his eyes, facing the front door. "Bathroom! Use the bathroom! Or at least give me a warning!"
He heard the rustle of fabric behind him. "Its not a big deal, Sunless," Cielle's voice came, muffled slightly as she pulled the fabric up. "We are just a little different. I don't mind if you look."
"I mind!" Sunny yelled at the wood of the door, his face radioactive. "I mind very much! I am going to have a stroke before we even reach the Dream Realm! Tell me when you are decent!"
"I am decent," she said calmly a moment later.
Sunny slowly turned around. She was fully dressed now, wearing her grey trousers and a fresh, dry tunic with the custom slits in the back. Her wings, freed from the damp environment and the heavy shirt, looked much fluffier and more relaxed, the pristine white feathers catching the warm light of the room.
Sunny let out a long, shuddering breath, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was approaching midnight. " If we're diving into the Chained Isles tomorrow morning, we should sync our combat rhythms. Come down to the basement training hall."
Cielle nodded, leaving her bare feet on the hardwood as she followed him down the stairs.
The basement was massive, lined with impact-resistant plating. The air down here was cooler, smelling faintly of dirt and polished stone. In the corner sat the two sleeping pods, humming quietly with a soft blue light.
"Alright," Sunny said, rolling his shoulders to loosen up, the tension from upstairs bleeding away as he entered a battle ready mindset. "Before we start sparring, you need to meet my Vanguard. We're going to be fighting together, so you need to understand her rhythm. And more importantly, you need to not attack her when you see her."
Cielle stood in the center of the mat, her hands loosely clasped behind her back. "Is she scary?"
"Usually, yes," Sunny said. The shadows in the basement stretched, deepened, and suddenly coalesced into a towering, seven-foot-tall figure.
Saint stepped out of the darkness.
Her dark, flawless granite armor absorbed the ambient light. Her ruby eyes glowed with cold, merciless might. She radiated an aura of absolute, unyielding lethality, standing perfectly still with her massive dark sword resting effortlessly on the ground. She was a monster, through and through, and her mere presence usually made grown Awakened draw their weapons in terror.
Sunny looked at Cielle, bracing himself. He expected her to step back, or manifest her own weapons in a panic.
Cielle didn't flinch. She stared at Saint with her big green eyes, she was very interested. She took a step forward, then paused, looking at Sunny.
"Can I get closer?" she asked politely. "Do you think she'll hit me?"
"She won't hit you unless I tell her to," Sunny said, completely bewildered by her lack of fear. "But... uh, yeah. Go ahead."
Cielle walked right up to the terrifying stone demon. She was dwarfed by the knight's sheer size. She looked up into Saint's glowing ruby eyes. Then, very casually, Cielle raised a single finger and poked Saint right in the center of her granite breastplate.
Clink.
Sunny's heart skipped a beat. 'Too cute'
Saint didn't move. The stone knight just slowly tilted her head downward, staring silently at the girl.
"Wow," Cielle murmured, her eyes widening slightly in genuine appreciation. "She's really sturdy. Like a boulder. And her armor doesn't have any obvious gaps at the joints." Cielle leaned to the side, peering closely at Saint's sword. "Can I touch the blade?"
Saint, without waiting for Sunny's command, slowly lifted the heavy sword and held it flat, presenting the dark, razor-sharp edge.
Cielle lightly ran her thumb along the flat of the stone. "Incredible sharpness" she praised softly, looking back up at Saint's helmet. "You're very impressive."
To Sunny's absolute, profound shock, Saint's ruby eyes seemed to pulse warmly. The terrifying demon knight gave a very slow, singular nod of acknowledgment to the girl, then turned to look at Sunny. If a featureless stone helmet could convey a smug expression, it was doing so right now.
Sunny stared at them. "Did you... Is she a damn melon at the market?"
"She's a very good melon," Cielle replied honestly. "I like her. She's quiet."
Sunny threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Whatever. Everyone is insane but me. Dismiss, Saint."
The knight dissolved back into his shadow, looking immensely pleased with herself.
"Draw your weapon," Sunny said, summoning the Midnight Shard. "Let's do some light coordination drills. No essence, just physical."
Cielle nodded. She extended her hands, and with a heavy, metallic rasp, a pair of long, dark chains materialized from her palms. They wrapped tightly around her forearms before spilling onto the floor. They were brutal, fluid weapons, suited perfectly for someone who could manipulate her space and flight.
They started moving.
At first, it was just circling each other on the mats. The only sounds in the basement were the soft slap of their feet, the ringing of steel against chain, and their steady breathing. But as they sped up, Sunny found himself getting entirely too distracted.
Cielle's combat style was mesmerizing. She used the heavy chains like whips, but her massive wings acted as a counterbalance, allowing her to pivot in mid-air and strike from impossible angles. Every time she swung, her waist twisted, and the fabric of her tunic pulled tight against her torso, highlighting the lean, wiry strength beneath.
Sunny parried a sweeping chain strike, sliding his blade down the links, but Cielle snapped her wrist. The chain coiled instantly around the Midnight Shard. With a sharp, surprisingly powerful tug, she yanked him forward.
Sunny stumbled, stepping in close to redirect her leverage. Suddenly, they were chest to chest.
He could feel the feverish heat radiating off her skin. He could smell the faint scent of rain that always seemed to cling to her hair, mixed now with the musk of sweat. A stray bead of sweat trickled down her throat, disappearing beneath the collar of her tunic. Her breath hitched slightly as she looked up at him, her green eyes dark, dilated, and intensely focused.
Sunny's brain blue-screened. Gods, she's beautiful, a traitorous, unbidden thought echoed loudly in his mind.
He violently shoved the thought down into the deepest pit of his soul. He ripped his sword free from the chains, nearly overbalancing, and scrambled backward, coughing awkwardly.
"Good," Sunny barked, his voice entirely too loud for the quiet basement. "Good leverage. But you're favoring your left side. Your left wing is drooping when you pivot."
Cielle lowered her chains, letting them dissipate into sparks of light. She rolled her left shoulder, wincing slightly, her brow furrowing. "You noticed. The cold rain tightened the muscle fibers at the base of the joint. It's cramped. I can't reach it properly." She looked at him, her expression completely open and utilitarian. "Can you help me press the knot out?"
Sunny swallowed hard. "Uh. Sure. Sit on the bench."
Cielle walked over to the wooden bench at the edge of the mats and sat down. Then, without a single ounce of hesitation or warning, she reached down, grabbed the hem of her tunic, pulling it entirely over her head, and dropping it onto the floor.
Sunny choked on a lungful of air.
"What are you doing?!" he squeaked, his eyes going wide as saucers as he took a massive step backward.
"The fabric restricts access to the back," she said, looking over her bare shoulder at him, confused by his panic. "I need you to dig into the muscle under the joint. You can't do that through clothes, Sunny."
She was completely bare from the waist up. Sunny's eyes immediately slammed down to stare at the floor mat. His heart was hammering so violently against his ribs it physically hurt.
"Right," Sunny rasped, his throat entirely dry. "Right. Logic. I am a professional. I am normal about this. A damn gentleman"
He stepped up behind her, fighting for his life not to look at the side profile of her chest. Instead, his eyes locked onto her back.
There were the scars. Silver, jagged, and brutal, crisscrossing over her ribs from whatever incident from her past. The sight of them sent a dark, heavy spike of protective anger through him, momentarily dulling his panic. But then his gaze trailed higher, looking at the incredibly intricate, beautifully toned muscles of her back, and the massive, soft white feathers sprouting from her shoulder blades.
With trembling hands, Sunny reached out and placed his palms flat against her bare skin.
She was incredibly hot to the touch, her skin flushed from the sparring. The moment his calloused thumbs dug into the tight, knotted muscle at the base of her left wing, Cielle let out a soft, breathy sigh that went straight to Sunny's groin.
"Oh," she murmured, her voice suddenly thick and heavy, her head dropping forward slightly. "Yes. Right there."
Sunny gritted his teeth, his face burning like a furnace. He worked his thumbs into the knot, applying steady, circular pressure. Cielle arched her back into his touch, her skin sliding smoothly beneath his hands. The sheer intimacy of it, the heat of her body, the dim light of the basement, the quiet rasp of her breathing echoing in the silent room…. was creating an atmosphere so thick it felt suffocating.
"Is that... is that better?" Sunny managed to choke out, his voice hoarse.
"Press harder," she commanded softly.
Sunny leaned his weight into his hands, digging his thumbs deeper into the tense muscle tucked under the heavy joint of the wing. Cielle let out a sharp gasp, her head dropping back. A violent shiver ran through her body. In a purely instinctual reaction to the intense physical release, her massive white wings flared outward and then draped backward, effectively wrapping around Sunny's arms and torso, enclosing the two of them in a warm, feather-lined cocoon.
Sunny stopped breathing entirely.
He was trapped in the dark warmth of her wings. His hands were slick with a faint sheen of sweat against her bare back, her body trembling against his palms. He could feel the rapid, steady beating of her heart through her . He could feel everything. He wanted to lean down. He wanted to press his mouth against the silver scars on her shoulders. The tension was an agonizing, physical weight in his chest.
"That's... the knot is gone," Sunny said. He forced his hands to let go, stepping back so quickly he nearly tripped over the edge of the mat, breaking the cocoon of her wings. He picked her tunic up off the floor and practically threw it at her head. "Put that back on! We're done for the night!"
Cielle caught the tunic, slipping it back over her head, completely unbothered. She looked remarkably relaxed, her eyes half-lidded, a faint flush on her cheeks. "Thank you, Sunny. That feels much better."
"You're welcome," he wheezed, staring fixedly at the ceiling. "Go shower. I'll meet you upstairs."
By four in the morning, the tension had somewhat dissipated into exhaustion. They were in the quiet living room. Sunny was aggressively arranging his furniture from here to there in order to distract his lingering thoughts, while Cielle was curled up on the couch, wrapped in her soft blanket, reading one of the physical books he had retrieved. She did not seem to mind him moving her here and there though.
Cielle finally let out a tiny yawn, closed the book, and stood up. She stopped in the hallway, looking between the two staircases. She turned back to look at Sunny, her expression perfectly innocent.
"Sunny?"
"Yeah?"
"Should I sleep in your bed, or the guest one?"
Sunny almost tripped, he dropped the glass of water he was holding and It hit the hardwood floor with a wet slap, luckily unbroken. He stared at her with wide, terrified eyes.
'Why does she ask things like that?! Of course, the answer is obvious!'
"The guest room!" Sunny practically yelled, his composure shattering all over again. "Obviously the guest room! Why would you sleep in my bed?!"
Cielle blinked, unbothered by his outburst. "Just checking . Some people prefer that. Goodnight, Sunny."
"Goodnight!" Sunny wheezed, clutching his chest.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, the house smelled like strong coffee and roasted meat.
They were diving into the Dream Realm in an hour, an expedition of course, she had agreed to come with him. Sunny was standing in the kitchen , dividing up dried provisions. He was exhausted, highly caffeinated, and doing his best not to think about the basement.
Cielle wandered down the stairs a few minutes later. She was wearing his oversized black shirt again, her wings dragging slightly behind her, her hair a messy halo of sleep.
She walked right up to the kitchen island, resting her chin on the cool marble counter, watching him work with half-open eyes.
"Morning," Sunny grumbled, sliding a steaming cup of tea toward her.
"Mm," she agreed, wrapping both hands around the mug and taking a slow sip.
Sunny reached into a small paper bag he had bought at a high-end market a few days ago. It was a rare, candied plum, extremely expensive, imported, and incredibly sweet. He popped a piece into his mouth, chewed, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Oh," Sunny muttered around the candy. "That's actually really good."
Cielle perked up. She looked at the paper bag, then at Sunny's mouth. "Is it really that good? Can I taste it?"
"Yeah, of course," Sunny said, reaching his hand into the bag to grab another piece for her.
She didn't wait for his hand.
Cielle stepped around the counter, closing the distance between them in a single, fluid second. She reached up, grabbed the collar of his shirt with one hand to pull him down slightly, and pressed her lips firmly against his.
Sunny's brain suffered a catastrophic, absolute systems failure.
A devastating 404 Error echoed through his soul. His hands froze in mid-air over the packed. The kiss wasn't hesitant. It was incredibly warm, shockingly soft, and entirely confident. The scent of her mixed with the sweetness of the fruit. But before his panicked, overridden mind could even begin to process the fact that she was actually kissing him, he felt the tip of her tongue trace his lower lip. It slipped inside his mouth, incredibly deft, and quite literally pulled the piece of candied plum right off his tongue.
She stepped back, releasing his collar, leaving him swaying slightly on his feet. She chewed thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling as she experienced the flavor.
"You're right," She sounded surprised. "Very good sugar content."
Sunny didn't move. He was a statue. His face was burning with the heat of a supernova, his heart was hammering at two hundred beats per minute, and his hands were gripping the edge of the marble counter so hard the stone threatened to crack under his fingers.
"You..." Sunny wheezed, his voice nothing but a high-pitched squeak. "You just..."
Cielle looked at him, genuinely confused by his total breakdown. "I asked if I could taste it. You said yes."
"You stole it out of my mouth!" Sunny yelled, his face entirely crimson.
"It was the fastest way" she pointed out reasonably, licking a lingering trace of sugar off her bottom lip. "And my hands were full with the tea. Did I do something wrong? Do you want me to give it back?"
"No!" Sunny scrambled backward, nearly knocking over a wooden stool. "No! Do not give it back! Go put your clothes on! Get in the pod! We are going to the Dream Realm! Right now!"
Cielle shrugged, completely unfazed by his reaction. "Okay. The tea was very good today, by the way."
She picked up her mug and wandered off toward the basement.
Sunny's happy shadow materialized on the counter, clutching its stomach as it silently, hysterically laughed at him, rolling around on the marble. Sunny swiped his hand through it, dissipating it back into his soul, and buried his burning face in his hands.
He was going to die in the Chained Isles. If the Nightmare Creatures didn't kill him, this absolute menace of a girl absolutely would.