《Haptic Imperative》Chapter Forty-Five (part three)
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"I said," clarified Enna, trying and failing to tuck her feet under covers that were in no way long enough to do so, "What took you so long?"
Orton blew out a breath, staring up at the ceiling. "I was... afraid, I guess. Afraid I would be taking advantage of you."
"I believe I made it clear, on multiple occasions," said Enna, with the slightest hint of asperity, "that I was perfectly okay with you taking advantage of me. If you know what I mean." She waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, making him grin.
"You know what I mean." He stroked her hair, pondering how best to express himself. "A guy's not supposed to..." he trailed off, realizing how stupid he sounded. "And anyway, there's a little bit of an age gap. And a power differential. It's not exactly woke."
"I dunno what any of that means, Orton," said Enna, somewhat muzzily, "but it sort of sounds like you were trying to win a prize for being noble instead of trying to win me." She snuggled up closer, smirking. "Some genius wizard you are."
He squirmed uncomfortably, although he couldn't help but smile a little in return. "I didn't want it to be just... you know?"
"Just what?" She sat up, her grin widening. "Coitus? Nookie? Doin' it?" She pulled at him playfully, then affected an expression of wide-eyed innocence. "Why, Mister Orton sir, I do declare! Holding hands? Whatever shall the tea society think?!"
She raised her gaze to the ceiling piously, clasping her hands in front of her, and Orton couldn't help but laugh. "Come on. You can't tell me you would have been okay with me just trying to sex you up all the time."
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She laid back down next to him. "Mmm. Maybe not all the time." Her hands slipped across his body again, then one finger crept up to tap him on the nose. "But more than once every ten years or so would have been nice."
He grimaced. "I'm sorry. I never meant..." he sighed. "I guess I was so busy trying to do what I thought you wanted that I never got around to asking what you actually wanted."
She yawned. "Men. Just typical, I tell you." She played with his hair for a while, silently; he dozed, feeling very content. Then, just as he was about to drift off to sleep, she suddenly asked him something he hadn't expected. "Orton, what are we going to do?"
He started a little, then absorbed her question and blew out a breath. "I don't know. If I learned anything from the seed, I think it got lost when Jiann purged me of the dead god's ipseity." He shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't even matter. All I know is that we need to keep moving if we're going to have any hope." Twisting his neck mightily, he gazed down at her. "Your opinion matters too, you know. Where do you want to go?"
Enna was silent for a few heartbeats. Then, in a very small voice, she said, "I want to go home."
"Oh, Enna." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly; she cried, but only a little. He hoped, with an ache in his heart that felt painfully sharp, that it would be the last time; but despite his best efforts, he couldn't make himself believe it. There would always be more tears to shed.
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Ой санамжаа алдчихсан юм байхдаа? Шархалсан дурсамжуудаа ч санахгүй байна.Чиний нүд рүү харах төдийд л...
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