She realized all her clothes were dirty. Nothing surprising, she barely had ti to do anything but study.
Her fridge was probably empty too. With a groan, she shrugged on the closest thing resembling clean: Laz’s varsity jacket.
Underwear? Not happening. The cramps were killing her.
She appreciated Laz for disappearing wherever he went after washing her hair. She wasn’t in the mood for company.
Vanessa had also left a ss before vanishing, if the watch on the nightstand was anything to go by, she’d been with her boyfriend. Typical.
Frida curled into a ball as another wave of pain gripped her. She groaned.
"Where is Laz? I need to scream into sothing, and he’s the perfect option."
The door opened, and the sound of shuffling feet reached her ears. His scent followed shortly after.
"Why do you always sll so damn good?" she muttered in agony.
She was on her period, this was not the ti to want him. Yet, she did.
A chuckle escaped Laz as he ca into view, carrying a box.
"I went back to the store," he whispered.
"What’s that?" she whispered back, not sure why they were both whispering.
"A period kit," he said casually, earning a blink of surprise from her. "Too corny? I noticed you were in pain, so I got so painkillers. Chocolate might irritate you, so I grabbed chips and ice cream instead. Oh, and..." He blushed, tossing a new set of underwear to the side.
"Why are we whispering?" she asked, her finger tracing his jawline.
"I didn’t want to give you a headache."
She laughed and grabbed his cheeks.
"Oh my god, you’re so cute! Can you sing Frozen’s ’Love Is an Open Door’ for ?"
He smirked.
"No."
"Awww, but you sing so well," she pouted.
He blinked at her, but her mind was elsewhere, specifically, replaying how gentle he’d been while washing her hair. Upside down on the bed, she whispered,
"I want to kiss you from this position."
His throat bobbed as she kissed his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair.
"May I?"
She didn’t wait for a reply, pulling him closer and kissing him.
"God, even your taste is addictive."
"LORD, IT’S HARD BEING FRIENDS WITH YOU," he growled, his voice dark and primal.
He flipped her over, placing a glass of water and acetaminophen in her hand.
"Drink."
She smirked and tossed the pill into her mouth, swallowing it without water.
"No."
"You play too much," he sighed, rolling his eyes.
She grabbed his earlobe.
"What was that?"
"Ah!" he yelped. "Nothing."
"Thought so," she huffed, letting go.
"You’re still a bully," he muttered, rubbing his ear.
Another wave of pain struck, and she curled into the sheets.
"I’m hungry."
"Let cook you sothing," he offered, but she shook her head, grabbing his hand.
"No, don’t go," she said softly. "I want you here."
Her stomach growled again, and she relented.
"Okay, fine," she said childishly, letting him go.
She watched him disappear into the kitchen, her eyelids growing heavy. That was odd, she didn’t sleep this much.
The soft clatter of pans filled the silence as her eyelids grew heavier.
---
He knew sothing was wrong when he ca over early that morning to quietly fix her door and leave.
But she wasn’t in.
His heart plumted.
It was the first ti ever that he didn’t know where she was. And it terrified him.
Terrified him enough to grab his gun.
A dumb move, he knew. Reckless.
But he hadn’t been thinking clearly—not when the fear clawed at his chest like a wild animal, tearing through every rational thought.
He hadn’t been expecting Lexi’s idiot boyfriend to be the problem either.
No, he had thought it was him.
The man who haunted their lives.
The man who should never find them.
Thankfully, it wasn’t him, but the re possibility had been enough to push him over the edge.
As for Lexi’s piece of shit boyfriend, the mont he laid a hand on Frida, his fate was sealed.
To Laziel, he was already a dead man walking.
Frida was right.
He was going to shoot the fucker, but since he had to please his woman. He’d take option two.
No forgiveness. No rcy. Just a slow, quiet death, rotting in the depths of so forgotten cell.
Laz was flipping pancakes when he felt it. The room was too quiet. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The question still lingered in his mind, heavy and unrelenting that he had to ask:
"Frida or Shelly?"
The words hovered in the air like a phantom, refusing to dissipate.
Delicate hands trailed over his hips, stopping at his abdon. A cloth pressed over his nose.
"Gotcha," a voice whispered.
When his eyes opened, she was there or soone who looked like her.
The room was bathed in faint purple light, its darkness oppressive. She stretched lazily, but sothing felt... off.
She turned toward the figure, her exact reflection, yet not. The woman wore a sleek leather jumpsuit, pink hair styled perfectly, and green contacts that glinted like molten fire.
"Hello," she purred, strutting around in a Darling in the Franxx cosplay.
He took a deep breath to steady his racing heart.
"Cat got your tongue?" she teased, heels clicking against the floor.
"Well, not exactly," he replied, blinking as she moved closer.
She placed her foot between his legs, and he realized his hands were bound.
"Did you miss ?" she asked, lifting his chin with a single finger.
He shrugged despite the restraints.
"Well, that depends on who I’m speaking to."
She smirked, her molten eyes locking with his.
"Does she know about us?"
"She’ll know in ti," he said tightly.
"Does she know anything about our past?"
"Not yet."
"Why are you protecting little miss innocent?" she asked, circling him like a predator.
"Because she’s my priority. It’s my fault she’s this way."
Her gaze softened montarily before hardening again.
"Do you think she can handle the truth? The real danger? The red notes? Does she know what those symbolize?"
He shook his head.
"She doesn’t, and she doesn’t need to. I’ll protect her."
She tilted her head, her leather jumpsuit creaking as she moved.
"Who do you love more?" she asked, straddling him.
His heart thundered in his chest.
"?" she purred, licking his lips. "Or her?"
Her hands trailed over his chest, teasing.
"Both," he said darkly.
Her confidence faltered for a split second.
"I’m better, Laziel. I ca all this way to give you what she denies you. To ride you until you forget her na."
He held back a groan.
"I’ll wait for her."
She smirked, grinding against him.
"Always a bad boy for ," she murmured.
"Always a good boy for her," he countered, his gaze burning into hers.
"Who do you truly want?" she demanded, her movents deliberate.
He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply.
"Well, it depends."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah."
She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.
"Didn’t know you liked good girls. Even if this is her body, she can’t pleasure you like ."
His lips curled into a smirk as he snapped the ropes binding him.
"I’ll decide that, be it Frida or shelly, you’re both mine."
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