We left the theater and briskly walked back to the parking area. I bet that Deen was super uncomfortable in her wet panties. It wasn’t the normal sort of wet, like water. It was the sticky kind. I shivered just imagining myself in her shoes. Panties. She made me walk behind her just in case something was visible. Fortunately, there was no trace.

  “Why are you giggling?” Deen asked as we left the cool air-conditioning of the mall and entered the adjacent parking building.

  “Nothing. Just thinking about your wet panties. I assume they’re not so wet now, are they?”

  “No,” she stiffly said as she pinched my arm. “And I don’t want to talk about them.”

  “Random thought. Why are panties, like, uh, plural? Is it the same case as pants and shorts?”

  “Because they have two legs, yes,” Deen said, pressing the button on her car keys to unlock her car. “Here you are with your tangents again.”

  I frowned. “I could’ve sworn I’ve read the word ‘panty’ before. Was that just wrong? It can’t be singular?”

  “The singular form would be a pair of panties,” Deen said. “Now, get in. I really, really want to go back home and change.”

  “Go back to my home, you mean?” I asked, hopping into the passenger’s seat. I grinned at Deen as she started the car.

  “It’s our home, Erind Hartwell. I have an idea—why don’t we have a rushed Vegas wedding?”

  “Wha-what?” I choked on my own saliva and started to cough.

  “Same-sex marriage is legal in the entire state of Nevada.”

  “I’m not getting married to you or anyone.”

  Deen pointedly ignored me as she started to drive. “Most people think that Vegas marriages are a joke. But if we fill out all the paperwork, it’s considered a valid wedding. If it’s just taking pictures at the church, then that’s a tourist thing. It depends on the paperwork that is processed. I don’t think it’ll require much to—”

  “Deen, that’s not going to happen,” I sternly said, about to open the car door and jump out. Having a relationship with Deen, whatever it was we had, was one thing. Marriage, that level of commitment? No way!

  “Why not? We can keep it a secret from your mom. Don’t you want to be married to the heir of the Leska Empire?”

  “Now, I know that you’re just teasing me,” I said with a huff. “I’m a hundred percent certain that you’d rather die than admit to your family that you had a secret wedding with another woman.” Deen’s family seemed to be very particular with their heir. Her older sister had a bazillion boyfriends, but never committed to a single one. She didn’t seem to have any intentions of starting a family.

  And so, the task of continuing their bloodline and keeping the money within their family fell to Deen. She definitely couldn’t fulfil that role if she got married to me. This felt like the plot to a modern-day drama. Also, I never wanted kids. Zero parental instincts here.

  Deen laughed. “I am teasing you. Or am I?”

  “Deen…”

  “Thinking seriously about the topic, my only choice would be to run away with you somewhere my family couldn’t find me. I’ll have to rely on you for support because I’ll leave my money behind.”

  “Dude, I’m also relying on Mom for money. We can’t elope. Even if we have a fortune stashed away somewhere, I’m still not getting married. That’s that.”

  “Are you scared of commitment?” Deen asked.

  “A bit. But I’m not sure if that’s why I don’t want to marry. Like, I’m not seeing any guys. Or girls. I’m pretty fine with exclusively doing what we’re doing. But going a step further? I don’t know…”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “You value your independence.”

  “There’s that, I guess. I’m not really sure.” I didn’t tell Deen the truth. I wasn’t certain that my ‘true nature’ was suited for a long-term relationship. Or any relationship for that matter. What if I awoke one day and simply decided I was tired of it? Tired of Deen. My finicky mind couldn’t be trusted with commitment because once I no longer cared, I’d throw away years of a relationship with no second thought.

  There was also the aspect of giving effort. It didn’t require much effort to be a daughter—it was Dad and Mom doing the heavy lifting in the relationship. My role was merely not to be a shitty person, and my parents should already be more than grateful for that.

  In contrast, being in a romantic relationship required constant effort. Keep the flame burning and stuff like that. Add more sticks to the pile, fan the flames, making sure it wasn’t doused in water. What if there was a conflict between Deen and me? I’d probably just bail out at the first opportunity because I simply didn’t have the energy to deal with that shit. It would be unfair to Deen to be legally tied to a person like me.

  That said, didn’t this mean that I cared for Deen? That I didn’t want to hurt her someday? This was caring, wasn’t it? Weird.

  “You look troubled,” Deen said, glancing at me before facing forward again. “We’ll leave that topic here. I’m sorry for being pushy. We’ve only been together recently, and I’m already fast-forwarding it. Did I overwhelm you?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “I just… I just haven’t thought of stuff like this before. Plus, I also have to deal with being an Adumbrae now.”

  Deen reached out to me and patted my head. “There, there. We’ll get through this. And I’m sorry for springing this topic onto you; it was supposed to be just light teasing. Let’s talk about something else. How did you find the movie?”

  “Uh, I’m surprised that I liked it. I thought that it would just be some random movie that’d bore me; it wasn’t even on my radar. But it was pretty good. You wouldn’t know because you weren’t watching,” I snidely added, sticking my tongue out at her.

  “I watched you watch the movie. You seemed really engrossed in it while your fingers were doing magic.” Deen chuckled, glancing at me. “I feel like you were playing with my, you know, so that I wouldn’t distract you from your movie.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It’s fine, Erind. I’m glad that you enjoyed the movie. It makes me feel less guilty that I wasn’t able to return the favor.”

  I groaned. “Again, with that transactional thing. A relationship isn’t a transaction. I know it’s supposed to be a give-and-take setup. One person can’t do all the taking and the other all the giving; it just wouldn’t work that way. But it also wouldn’t work if the couple kept a scorecard. That’ll just lead to resentment and competition of the toxic kind.”

  Deen didn’t immediately reply. After rocking her head for several seconds, she said, “That’s surprisingly mature, coming from you.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “I’m being completely serious.”

  I shrugged. “It’s just logical.” I may not have much experience with ‘normal’ feelings, but what I told Deen seemed obvious to me. Could I be more mature than her when it came to relationships?

  “On the topic of transactional, prepare for my impending revenge,” Deen said. “I hate you for making me… You know… with those people near us.”

  “Sure, sure. Do your worst later.” My phone started to ring. “Or you might not have the opportunity later. Myra is calling.”

  It turned out that Myra was already waiting for us at the condo. She had left her friend’s place with all her things and was ready to move in with us! I hadn’t prepared anything. I suppose that she could sleep in Mom’s room. It wasn’t like Mom had a bunch of stuff there because she was barely in the country. Giving Myra privacy meant more privacy for Deen and me. No way Deen would keep her hands off of me.

  “What if we tell Myra?” Deen suggested.

  “About what? About us making fire every night?”

  “Making fire? Oh, because we’re rubbing…” Deen giggled. “You have a unique way of putting things. Anyway, yes. Why not tell Myra that we’re together, and ask her to keep it a secret as well?”

  “I… I’m not sure if I want to.” Why didn’t I want to? Weird and unfamiliar feelings broiled inside me. My instinctive opposition was probably because I’d be sharing something intimate.

  My relationship with Deen was, dare I say, real… to some extent. Yes, I did have feelings for her. I liked Deen. This wasn’t part of my face, but of the real me. This might be the first time this had ever happened to me, and I felt vulnerable showing it to others. Some kind of weakness.

  I don’t know. My head was a mess. I didn’t like dealing with this. If my emotions were part of my face, there was a degree of separation that insulated my true self. And that was why I found it easy to switch faces. Not the case with my relationship with Deen.

  “You have a serious expression,” Deen said. “Again, I don’t want to be pushy. We’ll keep it a secret from Myra until you’re comfortable to share it.”

  Twenty-two advanced REND chapters and ten advanced ExD chapters on Patreon! Many thanks to our Purple Bloom supporters, Karp Paul, Danger Mittens, Ghost, ARIMA Maroon, thelastRickstanding, Mickey, and LackOfImagination!

  Come hang out at our !