Page 82 of Relapse

Because the truth feels simple now.

I’ll share her if I have to.

As long as she stays.

As long as neither of us ever has to wake up and find her gone again.

Chapter fourteen

Chapter Eleven

Blair

The sound of the apartment lock clicking open should probably make me panic considering I’m currently half naked, wrapped around Noir on Dagger’s couch after very aggressively making poor life choices all morning.

Instead my first thought is honestly, oh this is going to piss him off so bad.

Which apparently says deeply concerning things about me as a person.

Morning rain hammers steadily against the balcony windows while the apartment smells like sex, cigarettes, and burnt coffee by the time Dagger steps inside.

Then silence.

Long enough that I already know exactly what he’s looking at.

Fair.

Because I’m still tangled up with Noir across the couch beneath twisted blankets, one of his arms wrapped heavily around my waist while his black shirt hangs halfway off one shoulder and my panties are still very much missing somewhere in the apartment. My split pink and purple hair is a complete disaster across his chest and the couch cushions beneath us, and somewhere at some point during the morning one of us apparently kicked half the blankets onto the floor.

The TV hums quietly in the background.

Noir’s cigarette burned itself out in the ashtray beside the couch forever ago.

And honestly?

Neither of us look remotely sorry about any of it.

Dagger slowly shuts the apartment door behind himself.

Paper takeout bags rustle softly in his hands.

Neither of us move.

Mostly because I want to see what he does.

Noir wakes first.

His eyes cracking open lazily before immediately finding Dagger standing near the kitchen island holding enough coffee and breakfast to feed a small army.

The silence stretches.

Then:

“Well,” Dagger mutters flatly. “At least somebody had a productive morning.”

I grin into Noir’s chest immediately.

“Noir,” I mumble sleepily, “your competition brought breakfast.”