The Oracle Feed pinged in my peripheral vision.
〘 Subject’s elevated heart rate and aggressive positioning indicate emotional investnt masked as interrogation. Physical dominance display suggests insecurity regarding information asymtry in relationship dynamic. 〙
In other words, Sloane was worried I was keeping secrets from her, and she was handling it the way she handled everything—by pinning to a mattress and demanding answers.
"I’m not hiding anything." The lie ca out smooth because technically it was true. I wasn’t hiding the Force Manipulation classification. I was hiding approximately seventeen other things, but not that specifically.
"Then why did you look so relieved when Dr. Weber approved it?" She shifted her weight again, and this ti there was no way she didn’t notice my body’s reaction to having her straddling . Her eyes widened slightly, and a flush crept up her neck. "Why did my mom jump in with that explanation before you could answer?"
"Because your mom is better at this than I am," I said honestly. "She’s been managing Hero PR for two decades. She knew what classification would work best for my application."
Sloane stared down at , her expression conflicted. The aggressive interrogation stance was faltering, replaced by sothing else entirely. Sothing that made my pulse kick up for reasons that had nothing to do with being caught in a lie.
"You’ve been different," she said quietly. "Ever since you manifested. Ever since that night in the training room when I—when we—"
"When you walked in on naked?"
"Before that." Her face went red but she didn’t look away. "When we were training. When you wouldn’t stay down no matter how many tis I knocked you on your ass. You were different then."
She leaned down until our noses almost touched. Her breath was warm against my lips.
"Maybe you’ve been holding out on this whole ti." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe there’s more to your Aspect than what you showed Dr. Weber today."
My heart hamred against my ribs. She was too close. Too warm. Too fucking perceptive for soone who was supposed to be the impulsive explosive type.
"What if there is?" I asked, testing the waters.
Her eyes searched mine. "Then I’d want to know why you didn’t trust enough to tell ."
The Oracle Feed notification appeared again.
〘 Temptation Gauge Update: Sloane Fitzgerald - 60% ( 1%) - DEVOTED THRESHOLD REACHED
Subject emotional state: Conflicted attachnt. Jealousy of information asymtry competing with protective instinct. Physical positioning indicates desire for intimacy masked as confrontation.
Warning: Devoted stage subjects prioritize host wellbeing over personal comfort. Emotional vulnerability window detected. 〙
Sixty percent. She hit Devoted while pinning to my bed and demanding to know my secrets.
The System really had a sick sense of humor.
"I trust you," I said, and ant it more than she could possibly know. "But so things are complicated to explain. So things are still developing and I don’t fully understand them yet."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that sotis when I use my Aspect, I feel like there’s more there than just moving objects around." The lie mixed with truth smoothly. "Like there’s potential I haven’t tapped into yet. Your mom recognized that. Dr. Weber recognized that. The Force Manipulation classification gives room to grow into whatever my Aspect actually is."
Sloane’s expression softened slightly. "So you’re not hiding so crazy secondary power from ?"
"Nothing I’m aware of," I said, which was technically true if you didn’t count Blitz, Boundless Stamina, False Data, Dampen, Sexercise, and the Faceless Veil currently sitting in my inventory.
She studied my face for a long mont, then slowly released my wrists.
"Fine," she said. "But if you develop sothing new, I want to know about it. Imdiately."
"Deal."
She didn’t move off my lap. Her hands rested on my chest now, her weight settling more comfortably against . The interrogation was over but she wasn’t leaving.
"Dinner’s probably ready," I said.
"Probably."
Neither of us moved.
Her eyes dropped to my mouth. My hands found her waist like they had a mind of their own, thumbs brushing against the strip of skin where her tank top had ridden up.
"Sloane—"
She kissed before I could finish the thought. Harder than she had in the theater, more desperate than she had in the gym this morning. Her fingers tangled in my hair and her body pressed flush against mine and suddenly having her on top of wasn’t about interrogation anymore.
I kissed her back, one hand sliding up her spine while the other gripped her hip. She made a sound against my mouth that shot straight through .
The Oracle Feed was probably having a field day with this data but I couldn’t have cared less.
Sloane broke the kiss, breathing hard. Her face was flushed and her eyes were unfocused and she looked at like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
"I’m still mad you didn’t tell everything," she said.
"Noted."
"And I still think you’re hiding sothing."
"Probably."
"But I—" She stopped herself, biting her lip.
"You what?"
She climbed off abruptly, running a hand through her ssy pink hair. "Dinner. We should go downstairs before my mom cos looking for us."
"Sloane—"
"Don’t." She held up a hand. "Just... don’t make say it yet. Okay?"
I sat up slowly, watching her retreat toward my door. The Oracle Feed helpfully inford that her Temptation Gauge was still at sixty percent and her emotional state registered as flustered.
No shit.
"For what it’s worth," I said, "I’m not trying to hide things from you. Not the important stuff."
She glanced back at , and for a second that aggressive confidence cracked completely. She looked young and uncertain and absolutely beautiful.
"You better not be or I’ll kill your ass," she said. Then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling again.
Sixty percent. Devoted stage. Sloane Fitzgerald was officially at the point where her emotional attachnt to would override her better judgnt in critical situations.
And I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
The Faceless Veil sat in my inventory, waiting. A mask that would let be soone else entirely. Soone who didn’t have to navigate the complicated ss of Sloane’s feelings or Diane’s suspicions or the System’s increasingly fucked up quest requirents.
Just and the night and whatever trouble I could find.
"Later," I promised myself. "After Halloran. After I’m licensed and have actual backing. Then I’ll figure out what to do with you."
〘 Recomnded course of action: Maintain current progression trajectory with primary heroine. Devoted threshold crossed successfully. Continue building attachnt while pursuing secondary objectives.
New main quest available soon. 〙
I could work with that.
I dragged myself off the bed and headed downstairs, where Sloane was already loading her plate with pad thai and pretending she hadn’t just kissed senseless thirty seconds ago.
Diane looked between us with knowing eyes and a smile that promised future conversations I absolutely did not want to have.
"Thai food makes everything better," she said cheerfully.
"An to that," I muttered, and grabbed enough spring rolls to avoid making eye contact with either of them for at least five minutes.
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