Chapter Two-Hundred Eighty-Three: Storms and Shadows

Chapter 283

Storms and Shadows

Gathered around the patio in Tristan’s backyard were Tristan, Celeste, Fabien, Deimos, Jordi, and Jaxon.

A soft, dual radiance washed over the deck from the twin moons suspended high in the night sky, accompanied by the calming murmur of the stone pool waterfall in the background. As they spoke, Tristan detailed his encounter with Rosemary Ferraro, while Celeste and Jordi recounted Fabien’s rescue from Ivy and their clash with Goldie Glide, the disco-dancing Lamoris. Finally, Fabien shared the full story: Lena’s abduction by a human trafficker disguised as a police officer to an abandoned hospital, how Narcisse permitted a Duskfang Stalker to bite her, and how Percy supplied the cure to prevent Jaxon from using his healing powers.

Jordi slammed his palms on the armchair and angrily rose, glaring at Fabien.

Jordi: “WHY am I hearing about MY SISTER being kidnapped and almost being killed NOW?!”

He snapped. Fabien drew a long breath and rolled his eyes.

Fabien: “Because I was fucking tired when I came back, and then Celeste argued with me for it.”

He looked away. Celeste looked down. Jaxon looked away to hide his smirk.

Fabien: “She and I made up.”

He patted her back.

Deimos: “I’m going to say something to Lena about this.”

He interjected.

Jordi: “You will do no such thing, Deimos.”

He growled.

Deimos: “Why? She’s butting into my friend’s relationship.”

He shot back.

Jordi: “She’s a young girl with a harmless crush!”

Celeste shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

Deimos: “I beg to differ.”

He said flatly.

Tristan raised his hands to calm everyone down.

Tristan: “Enough.”

He spoke in a composed yet unyielding tone. Turning toward Jordi, his expression softened with understanding even as his gaze remained stern.

Tristan: “Jordi, can’t you be grateful that Fabien got Lena out safely?”

He asked him. Jordi looked away with hurt.

Deimos: “Yeah, big brother, Lena should have told you, but she’s angry because you slept with her boyfriend in her head.”

He huffed. Jordi angrily rose.

Jordi: “Deimos, can you fucking… KNOCK IT OFF?! I know what I did! Just because I made mistakes doesn’t mean I don’t care!”

He snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. He leaned forward, pointing a finger directly at Deimos.

Jordi: “You sit there and judge me, making light of my mistakes as if you’ve never fucked up!”

Deimos opened his mouth to interrupt, but Jordi pressed on, his voice cracking with emotion.

Jordi: “She’s my younger sister. I almost lost her, and instead of showing an ounce of empathy, you turn her distress into ammunition to mock me.”

Deimos glared at him and rolled his eyes.

Jordi: “I know I messed up. I know I hurt people I care about, and I have to live with that every day. But don’t you ever pretend you know how much I love my sister, or act like I don’t care about protecting her.”

Jaxon gently reached over and laid his hands on his arm in a comforting gesture. Jordi softened to Jaxon’s soft touch and gave his hand a reassuring pat.

Tristan: “Fabien, why didn’t you use your ‘Sextet Communicator’ to contact us when this happened?”

He asked him. Fabien paused and rubbed the back of his head.

Fabien: “I forgot?”

Tristan heaved a deep sigh. It’s one of those days where I really need a drink, he thought.

Fabien: “...It happened in a flash, so I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

He blew air through his parted lips.

Tristan cleared his throat.

Tristan: “We can’t go back and change what’s done, but we can learn something from this. Narcisse has those teleporting devices that Ichiro and Cedar use.”

He cupped his chin.

Celeste: “Does Narcisse work for that company?”

Tristan shook his head.

Tristan: “He doesn’t work at all. He never worked a day in his life.”

Fabien snorted. Tristan pursed his lips.

Tristan: “...How did he obtain those? Jordi, you worked in Megalos Tower for Minerva.”

Jordi rubbed the back of his head.

Jordi: “Narcisse humiliated Minerva, but he never worked there.”

Jaxon: “Hey, didn’t Dougal have some of those devices, too?”

He interjected.

Dougal’s name hung in the air, stretching out into a thick, heavy silence that pressed against the group. Finally, Tristan sighed, his gaze dropping momentarily before he met Jaxon’s eyes.

Tristan: “He did.”

Fabien: “Yeah, last we saw him, he attacked Celeste, Jiro, and me in the funhouse with a samurai Darashinai. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

He drawled, leaning back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest.

Tristan: “He was also supplied a golden suit of armor by Narcisse and cleverly dubbed himself ‘The Golden Todger.’ ”

He let out a mirthless chuckle. He removed his glasses to rub his eyes and slid them back onto the bridge of his nose.

Tristan: “That fat thing always thought with his ‘todger,’ as he so eloquently called it, so I guess it fits.”

He muttered, cupping his mouth and looking away.

Fabien reached into his pocket and pulled out a fidget spinner, spinning it distractedly between his fingers while the heavy tension lingered over the patio. In the quiet night air, the spinner produced a low, rhythmic whirring sound that hummed softly against the silence. Celeste shifted slightly in her seat and leaned her head onto Fabien’s shoulder, silently offering and seeking comfort.

Fabien: “I had an uncle named ‘Julien.’ ”

He finally said. Tristan turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

Fabien: “He was my mother’s older brother. He ran away from home in 1954 or 1955—about ten or nine years before I was born. He never came back. No one knew where he went.”

He added, spinning his toy between his fingers.

Fabien: “Until Jiro healed your crazy mother. She called me ‘Julien’. She cornered me in Narcisse’s shitty abandoned circus, insisting I was Julien.”

Tristan hung his head and heaved another weary sigh.

Tristan: “That thing never mentioned anyone named Julien, even as she came and went.”

Deimos: “What does this have to do with anything?”

Jordi flashed Deimos a hot glare.

Jordi: “You have no empathy for anyone who isn’t Tristan, and even then, that’s debatable!”

He hissed.

Deimos: “Spare me the speech, Jordi. Save your tears for someone who actually believes you care about anything other than yourself.”

He countered. Jordi angrily rose, with fire in his Byzantine eyes.

Jordi: “EXCUSE ME?! I do nothing BUT put others before me! Why do you think I worked that dreadful job with Minerva?! You?! You do nothing but wave your stinky feet around and mope when people point out you’re a failure and a loser!”

He bellowed. Fabien pursed his lips, trying not to laugh.

Deimos snapped, abruptly standing, his jaw clenched, eyes dark with fury as he stared up at Jordi.

Deimos: “Well, I don’t need to fuck my brother’s boyfriend!”

Jordi’s jaw tightened.

Jordi: “Lena and Jaxon were never dating!”

Fabien: “Can I finish my story?”

He asked, followed by a hollow laugh.

Jordi: “So why don’t you take your miserable self somewhere else and stop projecting your own pathetic insecurities on me?”

He barked at Deimos.

Deimos: “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, dickhead!? Demetrio’s fat stooge had to die so you could get a job!”

He yelled back, bracing his feet apart.

Fabien: “No? Okay.”

He laughed a hollow laugh.

Unable to contain his fury, Jordi suddenly lashed out, swinging a wild punch that struck Deimos square on the jaw with a harsh crack, sending him stumbling backward. Wiping a smear of blood from his lip, Deimos steadied himself as his purple glow surrounded him. With a raw, furious roar, he lunged straight back at Jordi, and the two collided violently, tumbling across the patio deck in an all-out brawl that shattered the quiet of the night.

Jordi threw a heavy right hook, but Deimos caught the fist.

Jordi: “Get off me!”

He roared, grabbing Deimos’ arm and throwing him over, sending him backward into a glass patio table, shattering it into a shower of crystalline shards.

Deimos slammed against the stone wall, but his purple glow flared brighter. The cuts from the glass closed almost instantly as he surged back to his feet, eyes blazing. He tackled Jordi low, driving them both into the poolside railing with a sickening thud. Jordi gasped and boxed his ears. Deimos snarled through gritted teeth, refusing to break his grip as his vitakinesis rapidly worked to counteract his ruptured eardrums and pain.

Celeste: “Come on, boys!”

She yelled, instinctively stepping forward, her super strength tense and ready to physically drag them apart. Fabien quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her back while raising a hand.

Fabien: “Let them tear each other up.”

Jaxon ducked behind the patio couch, his face pale as he watched the chaotic spectacle.

Tristan’s jaw set into a grim line. Freezing frost rippled outward from his Oxford shoes across the deck planks.

Tristan: “Enough!”

He bellowed, his voice echoing as his cryokinesis lowered the surrounding temperature in a sudden, icy snap.

The sudden, unnerving plunge in temperature hit them instantly. Mid-lunge, Deimos’ glowing purple vitakinesis flickered and dimmed, the biting frost stiffening his limbs and halting his momentum in mid-air. Beside him, Jordi gasped, stifled by the oppressive wave of sub-zero cold. Both men stumbled apart, their breath billowing into heavy white clouds as frost rapidly coated the deck. Panting heavily, shivering uncontrollably, they froze in place and stared at Tristan, their wide eyes reflecting sheer shock at his unyielding display of power.

Tristan: “Enough is enough! Fabien was trying to tell us something, and you two are at each other’s throats! What exactly is ANY of this achieving?!”

He thundered.

Jaxon, seeing the lingering pain on Jordi’s face, stepped out from behind the couch. He moved to Jordi, whose breathing was still ragged, and knelt beside him. Jaxon’s hands began to emit a warm, pulsing red glow as he placed them gently on Jordi’s bruised skin, his healing mending the injuries from the fight.

Deimos folded his arms and threw himself on the seat next to Tristan, glaring daggers at Jordi.

Jordi: “You can throw venom my way, Deimos, but you didn’t have to insult Sylvia! She died a horrible death and isn’t Blair tainting her memory enough?! We were all there when it happened!”

He flared hotly. Tristan glared coldly at Deimos. The glare sent him shrinking into his seat.

Tristan: “Don’t. Don’t.”

He said icily to Deimos.

Fabien: “Can I finish my story now?”

He asked with an awkward laugh, running his hand through his hair. Celeste rubbed his back.

Tristan: “Please do, Fabien. I apologize for this.”

Fabien spun his fidget spinner.

Fabien: “Anyway, Charlotte showed me a compass with ‘C.B.’ on it. She said Julien gave it to her for her sixteenth birthday. She showed it to me hoping I was Julien and it would jog my memory, but I don’t think I was born when she turned sixteen.”

He ran a hand through his hair. Tristan gazed at him.

Tristan: “She would have turned sixteen on July 24th, 1956.”

He said evenly and inhaled sharply.

Fabien: “I wasn’t born then.”

He leaned forward, spinning his toy.

Fabien: “She told me he really is dead.”

He chuckled bitterly.

Tristan pursed his lips and inhaled sharply. He removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

Tristan: “I’m sorry, Fabien.”

Fabien shrugged.

Fabien: “I never met him, but I kind of guessed he was when I knew he had something to do with Charlotte and Narcisse.”

He blew air through his parted lips. Celeste shifted closer to Fabien, resting her head gently against his arm. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, offering silent comfort.

Tristan slid his glasses on over his nose.

Tristan: “So you think Dougal’s silence is his death?”

He finally said. Fabien nodded soberly.

Fabien: “Yes. I can’t imagine that fat fuck being on the downlow for this long. The other option is he’s back in jail, but nah, this is Narcisse. He’s dead.”

He laughed darkly.

Tristan: “Interestingly, Dougal killed Borko and dumped his car and body in a river handy to his house.”

He mumbled.

Tristan: “This explains why Narcisse has those gadgets.”

Celeste: “What do you think, Deimos?”

Standing up abruptly, Deimos threw a parting, venomous look at Jordi before striding off the patio, vanishing into the darkness of the night. Tristan watched his departure, his hands tightening around the armrests as a heavy wave of exhaustion and irritation washed over him, culminating in a shaky, burdened sigh. A dry, humorless chuckle escaped Fabien. Celeste quietly lowered her eyes toward her feet and Fabien’s.

Jordi sat slumped on his seat, watching Deimos disappear into the gloom. His chest heaved with heavy, frustrated breaths as the adrenaline faded, leaving behind a bitter, hollow feeling that settled deep in his stomach.

Tristan: “I need a drink.”

He sighed, removed his glasses to rub his forehead.

Jordi: “Same, honestly.”

~

Later that night, the noise and tension of the patio gave way to the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom. Moonlight filtered softly through the vertical blinds, casting a gentle glow over the room. Jordi lay in bed, clad in black silk pajamas, his body propped up slightly against the pillows. Beside him, Jaxon lay comfortably, his warm skin pressed softly against Jordi’s side as they soaked in the peaceful stillness.

Jaxon reached up, his fingers gently tracing the line of Jordi’s jaw. Jordi let out a long, slow breath, closing his eyes and leaning into Jaxon’s tender touch. The lingering sting of Deimos’ harsh words and the bitter clash on the deck began to fade, replaced by the calming rhythm of Jaxon’s steady breathing.

Jaxon: “You don’t have to carry all of it on your shoulders, Jordi.”

He murmured softly, resting his hand against Jordi’s chest, right over his heart.

Jordi opened his eyes, looking down at Jaxon with a gaze full of quiet gratitude. He wrapped his arm around Jaxon, pulling him a little closer into his chest.

Jordi: “I hate how Lena won’t talk to me… I hate how Deimos disparaged Sylvia’s memory. We were all there when Ichiro turned her into a richonoid. How could he say that about someone who was so selfless?! Isn’t it bad enough that Blair destroyed her memorials during his childish tantrums?!”

His voice trembled with emotion.

Jordi: “And I miss my little sister… I wish she would talk to me… I have the money now to put that miserable bastard in a nursing home and have her live with us.”

He breathed a ragged breath.

Jaxon: “Live with us?”

He looked up at us.

Jaxon: “We have two bedrooms upstairs. Noah is one, and the other is small.”

Jordi: “I will build a piece in this place.”

Jaxon: “What about your old house?”

Jordi paused and took a deep breath.

Jordi: “I was born and raised in that house. It’s full of memories… Looking at it, not good memories. Mom using drugs and being high… Mom dying. Grandma leaving. Grandpa treating me like garbage.”

He pursed his lips as his fingertips traced Jaxon’s shoulder.

Jordi: “Maybe it’s best left behind, Jiro.”

Jaxon snuggled closer to him.

Jaxon: “You have to make amends with her first.”

Jordi drew a breath and kissed Jaxon’s head.

Jordi: “I know.”

Jordi: “Tomorrow, I will call a family friend, Elias.”

He added.

Jordi: “He’s a skilled contractor, and he can handle the addition of Lena’s bedroom and bathroom.”

He said, looking down at him.

Jordi leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Jaxon’s lips, holding the sweet moment between them before pulling back. Content and reassured, they both settled deeply into the warmth of the covers, wrapping their arms around each other until their breathing synced and they drifted off to sleep together.

~

In Tristan’s bedroom, the soft moonlight poured through the window, painting the room in cool shades of blue and silver. Tristan sat propped against the headboard, his usual meticulous appearance softened. His white hair fell loose around his shoulders, free from its usual style, and his glasses rested on the nightstand beside him. Clad in silver silk pajamas, he let out a long, quiet sigh, the lingering fatigue of the evening finally catching up with him.

Beside him, Deimos shifted under the covers. Dressed in a black tank top and dark plaid pajama pants, his fierce expression from earlier had completely dissolved into quiet vulnerability. He reached out, his hand sliding over the silk sheets to rest gently over Tristan’s. Tristan turned his head, his vision slightly soft without his glasses.

Tristan: “What is it, Deimos?”

Deimos: “I fuck up everything, Tristan.”

Tristan drew a long breath.

Tristan: “Yes, Deimos, you come in all guns blazing, and this is why I told you to say nothing to Lena about her pursuing Fabien!”

He snapped, tightly furrowing his eyebrows.

Deimos: “I don’t like her hurting my friend, and she almost came between us!”

He blurted out.

Tristan: “Ah, so this is what it truly boils down to: how she affected you. I knew it.”

A mirthless, dry laugh escaped his lips.

Tristan lay on his back and laughed bitterly.

Deimos: “Can we have sex?”

He gave him a pleading look.

Tristan, glaring at him coldly, planted his elbow sharply into Deimos’ ribs, drawing a grunt of pain. Without another word, he rolled over onto his side, turning his back completely to him in heavy, suffocating silence.

Deimos quietly slipped out from under the covers. He stepped softly across the room, leaving the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom behind as he walked out onto the balcony. The cool night air hit his skin as he looked out over the landscape, bathed in the soft glow of the twin moons. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he launched himself over the railing and took flight, soaring up into the vast, open darkness of the night sky.

Tristan: “Goddamn you, Deimos…”

He muttered.

~

The soft, dual radiance of the twin moons spilled through Fabien and Celeste’s bedroom window, casting a silver sheen across the floor. Fabien sat cross-legged on his office chair, looking at the glowing monitor of his Bungle server, the hum of the cooling fan blending with the night's silence. He wore green plaid pajama pants, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the keyboard as he navigated the screen’s green text. Behind him, the bed was a quiet sanctuary. Celeste lay curled under the covers, peaceful in sleep, wearing a black tank top. Fabien paused, glanced over his shoulder at her, and smiled, then turned back to his work, the monitor’s soft light reflecting in his eyes.

Fabien clicked a few more keys on his Bungle server before shifting his attention to the art piece resting beside his keyboard. It was a caricature of Ashley he’d drawn earlier in vibrant orange marker, depicting them with wide, ecstatic eyes as they stared down a towering, cartoonish pile of food. Above their head, he’d carefully printed the caption: “Oh my stars, FOOD!” With a smirk, he carefully scanned the image and uploaded it to the server, watching the progress bar fill as the file transferred into the digital void.

SeigneurMonstre: Here is a drawing I did of Blair’s girlfriend. Cheer up, buddy! :)

BlairDonati: Yeah, Fabien, this isn’t getting Ashley closer to me. Why even bother? Why do I bother even living?

Fabien burst into laughter and slapped his thighs. He leaned over to reply.

SeigneurMonstre: You’re so welcome, mon ami! The shading on the upper lip took me three hours.

BlairDonati: You don’t understand... Ashley is all I have left.

If I quit trying to date them, I have no reason to keep going in life because I just lost another passion of mine. I want to show them off to Gramps’ friends and make them laugh. I can’t do dating ads or services; it’s been hell for me and almost had me killed twice. Ashley is all I have left to show my clever side, my funny side, my expression. If I can’t express myself, I might as well just be a shut-in doomer.

I don’t want to share my personal life, but I’ve been through too much, and I just want someone to help me get Ashley to date me.

Like, it’s ridiculous that Ashley dated that fat pig, Jordi.

Fabien reached into his shopping bag and pulled out a package of extremely spicy ramen called “Nuclear Assault Ramen.” Holding it up, he snapped a quick photo with his camera, uploaded the image to his Bungle server, and typed a message.

SeigneurMonstre: Had this today! Holy fuckballs, this is SPICY! I mean, it’s spicy for everyone, not just old people.

DeimosK: Might give it a try.

SeigneurMonstre: It’s up your alley, Deimos! I got mine at Y&R Grocer.

BlairDonati: I’m sorry? What does this have to do with helping me get Ashley? The only food that fatty won’t eat is spicy food. Talk about not knowing them.

DeimosK: Fuck you, Blair. It’s not about you or Ashley! He was sharing ramen he ate. It’s his fucking server, and I wish he would ban your ass!

BlairDonati: Deimos, I made a speech about my heart tearing into a million pieces, and you say that to me. You don’t have it as bad as me. No one in this server does! I ban you to the dark realm!

DeimosK: Oh, fuck you. Ashley doesn’t want you. No woman wants you. May as well be that shut-in doomer. Oh wait, you already are.

BlairDonati: Like I would take advice from a man who doesn’t date girls!

DeimosK: So what if I’m gay? Good advice is good advice, regardless of who it comes from, dipshit.

BlairDonati: I BAN YOU TO THE DARK REALM!

Fabien watched the heated exchange unfold on his screen, his shoulders shaking with silent, then raucous laughter as he slapped his desk. The humor of the absurdity hit him, and he leaned back in his chair, wiping tears from his eyes. Suddenly, a notification pinged on his monitor—a private, direct message blinking in the corner of his chat client. He clicked on it and raised his eyebrows.

PrincesaMariposa: Hey! :)

Fabien: “Oh, it’s from Lena.”

He muttered and reached out to type a response.

SeigneurMonstre: Salut! I didn’t think you’d be up this late. What’s up?

PrincesaMariposa: I liked the photo you took of that ramen.

SeigneurMonstre: Oh, thanks! I didn’t think you’d be into that.

PrincesaMariposa: Do you have a digital camera or a throwaway one?

SeigneurMonstre: Digital! I use disposable ones if I want prints. But for what? I dunno. Blair doing stupid bullshit or his girlfriend being a fatty?

PrincesaMariposa: Can I ask you something?

SeigneurMonstre: Sure, what’s on your mind?

PrincesaMariposa: It’s embarrassing…

Fabien raised his eyebrows.

SeigneurMonstre: Well? Out with it!

PrincesaMariposa: Can you… take some pictures of your feet? >///>

Fabien cupped his mouth to hide his smirk. He stood up from his office chair and set his feet flat on the floor. He lifted his digital camera, pointed it downward, and framed his bare feet against the hem of his green plaid pajama pants. With a soft click and a flash, he snapped the photo.

He then set the digital camera on the desk and activated the self-timer. He propped his bare feet up on the desk, crossed his ankles, and held up a peace sign for the camera. A soft click and flash captured the moment. Once the timer stopped, he sat back down, connected the camera, selected the image, and uploaded it directly to Bungle in his private chat with Lena.

SeigneurMonstre: [Image Attached] [Image Attached]

SeigneurMonstre: There you go. Don’t spend it all in one place!

PrincesaMariposa: WOW!!! O//////////////O

PrincesaMariposa: Could you take more? >/////>

Fabien beamed and pursed his lips. He sat cross-legged on his chair and reached out to reply.

SeigneurMonstre: I gave you a free sample. Anything else will cost you. ;)

PrincesaMariposa: Ok! ^^

SeigneurMonstre: Here is my BeamPay link.

He attached his BeamPay link for twenty dollars.

PrincesaMariposa: Thanks for being so kind about this, Fabien. >////>

Fabien snickered.

SeigneurMonstre: You’re welcome, Mademoiselle. :)

The blue light of the monitor cast long, sharp shadows across the bedroom as Fabien finally closed the Bungle window. He stretched his arms over his head, a contented sigh escaping his lips, ready to finally shut down for the night. Before his hand could reach the power switch, however, a small, subtle chime sounded from the computer speakers.

A new notification box popped up in the corner of his screen: New Email: BeamPay - Payment Received.

Fabien blinked, leaning in close to the glass, his eyes scanning the subject line. Lena had followed through. He clicked the link, and a small, satisfied smirk spread across his face as he read the confirmation that twenty dollars had been deposited into his account. He glanced back at Celeste, who remained deeply asleep, her breathing steady and soft.

Fabien: “Well, that was easy.”

He whispered into the quiet, dark room, the two moons glowing faintly through the blinds as he leaned back in his chair.

Still amused by the sheer absurdity of Blair and Deimos’ ongoing argument, he grabbed his digital camera from the desk and set a quick self-timer. Slipping off his chair, he sat flat on the floor, propped the camera up nearby, and pointed the lens straight at his feet. With a wide smirk, he spread and curled his toes as the camera flashed, capturing the moment.

Then Fabien sat up, pulled his foot toward his face, and licked it, giving a seductive look as the camera snapped.

He then got on all fours, turning to look back over his shoulder at the camera he had propped up on the floor. With a smirk, he spread and curled his toes, and the camera flashed, capturing the pose.

Fabien then dropped to his knees, glancing back over his shoulder with a confident wink as the camera focused squarely on his bare feet and captured the shot with a final flash.

Fabien connected the digital camera to his computer, selected the newly taken photos, and uploaded them into the private chat window with Lena.

SeigneurMonstre: Here are the extra photos you asked for. Enjoy! ;)

He leaned back in his office chair, crossing his arms with a smirk as he watched the screen, waiting for her response.

PrincesaMariposa: OH WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWW!! O/////////////////////O

SeigneurMonstre: Glad it’s to your liking. ;)

SeigneurMonstre: Anyway, I should head to bed. If you want more, give me a shout. :) Bonne nuit! <3

With the final images sent and the money confirmed, Fabien finally clicked the “Log Off” button on Bungle, watching the green text fade into darkness as the screen went black.

He pushed his office chair back, stood up, and stretched, his muscles loosening after the long night of typing and photography. He took one last look at the empty computer screen, then made his way across the room, his footsteps quiet on the floor, and slipped into the warmth of the bed beside the sleeping Celeste, putting his arm over her, and finally drifting off to sleep.

~

Meanwhile, in her own bedroom, Lena sat on the edge of her bed wearing a dainty pink nightgown. The soft glow of her computer screen illuminated her face in the dim room as she scrolled back through the newly received pictures of Fabien. Looking at each image on the monitor, a deep blush spread across her cheeks, and she smiled softly to herself, fiddling with her locket.

She shut off her computer screen and crawled into her bed. She slid her hand down her panties and inserted her fingers inside as she massaged herself.

Lena: “Fabien…”

She moaned as her finger encircled her clit and her panties dampened. She arched her back as she inserted her fingers deeper. A blush bloomed across her cheeks as her clit throbbed. A jagged moan escaped her throat as she climaxed in her panties. She lay back panting. Her breasts were out of her nightgown, her brown nipples taut.

She rose from her bed to use the shower.

~

When Lena returned from the shower, she slipped into a fresh floral nightgown and crawled back into bed. Pulling the soft covers up to her chin, she stared up at the ceiling as thoughts of Fabien drifted through her mind until her eyelids grew heavy and she peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Abraham stood outside her door. He crept into her bedroom and gazed down at her sleeping. He raised his camera to snap pictures of her. He then lowered her blankets, brushing aside the straps of her nightgown to expose her bare breasts and snapped a picture. A lecherous grin crossed his lips, and he left her bedroom.