Misato’s body went rigid against mine. Not the good kind of rigid either. The kind that ant her brain had just caught up to the fact that she was pressed against like we were slow dancing at prom.
Her hands ca up to my chest, not pushing exactly, but creating just enough space that she could tilt her head back and look at with those sharp li green eyes. The vulnerability from thirty seconds ago evaporated like it had never existed. Classic Misato defense chanism: emotional mont over, back to business.
"Thank you," she said quietly. Her voice carried that formal edge she used when talking to faculty. "For listening. For... this."
She gestured vaguely between us, like physical comfort was so kind of foreign concept she needed to categorize and file away. Which, knowing her background, it probably was.
Misato stepped back, extracting herself from my arms with the sa careful precision she used for everything else. Her right hand ca up to grab her left arm just below the shoulder, fingers wrapping around her bicep in what was probably supposed to be a casual gesture.
Except the movent pushed her chest up and forward, and suddenly my brain forgot how to process anything else.
Holy shit.
I an, I’d noticed Misato was built before. Kind of hard not to when soone spent half their ti in form-fitting tactical gear. But seeing her in civilian clothes, with that unconscious little motion highlighting exactly how well-proportioned she was? That was a whole different level of distraction.
Her black t-shirt wasn’t tight exactly, but it sure as hell wasn’t loose either. The fabric stretched just enough to outline curves that had no business being that perfect on soone who could probably benchpress a small car. And with her arm positioned like that, creating this little fra that drew attention to exactly the right places...
Thank god for baggy jeans and strategic jacket positioning, because this was not the ti for obvious physical reactions to my squad captain’s accidental sexy poses.
Misato’s gaze flicked to the side, avoiding eye contact like she’d just rembered we were standing way too close in my apartnt after an emotional breakdown. Pink colored her cheeks, barely visible but definitely there.
"Well." She cleared her throat, still not looking at directly. "Goodnight, Jace. I’ll see you for training tomorrow morning."
"Goodnight, Misato."
She moved toward the door with that controlled grace that made everything she did look choreographed. Even walking away was a masterclass in efficient movent and unintentional appeal. Her jeans fit just right, emphasizing the athletic curve of her hips and the lean strength in her legs.
The door clicked shut behind her, and I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.
Good thing she hadn’t noticed the obvious effect she’d had on . That would have made an already complicated situation infinitely worse. Nothing ruins a touching emotional mont quite like your squad captain realizing you’re sporting wood from hugging her.
Though honestly, how was a guy supposed to react normally when Misato Aya pressed herself against him and then did that little arm thing? It wasn’t fair. Soone that intimidating had no business being that ridiculously attractive. The universe clearly had a twisted sense of humor.
I flopped back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to process the last twenty minutes. Misato had basically confessed that the Davenports owned her entire family. Blair had escalated from verbal threats to physical violence. And now there was a Diamond-tier hunter coming to investigate personally.
Also, I’d discovered that hugging my squad captain was both incredibly dangerous and incredibly worth it.
The System chid softly sowhere in the periphery of my vision, probably tallying up so new relationship tric or unlocking an achievent I hadn’t asked for. "First Squad mber Consolation" or "You Let Her Cry on Your Shirt." I dismissed it without looking. My brain was still rebooting from Misato’s very literal, very distracting proximity. The girl moved like a weapon but felt like sothing else entirely, and my body had definitely noticed the difference. Not helpful. Very much not helpful when I needed to focus on the actual problem at hand.
The obvious move was right there, clear as day. Keep my head down. Train harder. Don’t antagonize the Diamond-tier investigation when it showed up at my door. Feed Blair’s sister the most boring, plausible narrative possible and hope she got tired of digging through my unremarkable life. Standard defensive play. Don’t make waves. Don’t give them ammunition. Let the storm pass over and move on to soone more interesting.
That strategy had one significant flaw: it ant leaving Misato to face Blair’s wrath alone. And after what I’d just seen—the way she’d unraveled in my room, the terror in her voice when she talked about losing her mother’s job, the desperate vulnerability she’d tried so hard to hide—I couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. Even my cynical, survival-focused brain drew a line sowhere, and apparently that line was "don’t throw the girl who hugged you under the bus just because it’s convenient."
Which ant I needed a different plan. One that didn’t involve sacrificing my most competent squad mber to the Ice Queen’s tantrums.
I lay on my bed for another ten minutes, replaying the feeling of Misato pressed against and trying to convince my body that now was not the ti for that particular biological response. The ceiling offered no useful advice. Neither did the growing pile of dirty laundry in the corner that I’d been ignoring since orientation.
Finally, I sat up and pulled the System interface into focus.
Ti to see where I actually stood.
◆ DIVINE MILKING SYSTEM ◆
│ JACE MONROE │ Height: 6’1" | Weight: 205 lbs │ Age: 18 | House: Obsidian
SYSTEM STATUS
Level: 6 (450/6000 XP)
Lifespan: 13D 10H
Points: 7,680
The numbers stared back at , and I felt that familiar cocktail of relief and anxiety. Thirteen days wasn’t bad. Three weeks ago I’d been counting hours. Now I had almost two weeks of breathing room, plus enough points to extend that significantly if needed.
But breathing room wasn’t the sa as safety. Cassandra Davenport was coming tomorrow. A Diamond-tier hunter with resources and motivation to dig into every aspect of my suspicious improvent.
And I was sitting here at Level 6 like so kind of tutorial character who hadn’t figured out the main quest yet.
User Comments
0 comments from readers