Page 84 of Relapse

Dangerously domestic.

That realization sits weirdly in my chest while I curl cross-legged onto one of the kitchen stools eating pancakes wrapped in blankets and somebody else’s shirt.

A few months ago this entire situation would’ve sounded clinically insane.

Now?

Now it somehow feels natural.

Which honestly might be the most concerning part.

Dagger glances toward me eventually.

“You should probably shower when you’re done eating.”

I blink once.

“Excuse me?”

“Mina’s coming over later.”

“Oh thank fuck.” I shove another bite of pancakes into my mouth dramatically. “Another woman. I was starting to forget society existed outside emotionally unstable criminal men.”

Noir smirks faintly near the balcony.

Dagger ignores both of us.

“That was his subtle way of saying you smell like sex.”

I nearly choke laughing.

I look toward Dagger innocently over the rim of my coffee. “Ohhh, so you only like when I smell like sex if it’s sex with you? Interesting. Possessive. A little toxic. Very on brand.”

“Blair.”

“No, no.” I point at him dramatically. “This is important character development for everybody.”

“Mostly him,” Noir mutters calmly from the balcony doorway around his cigarette.

Dagger visibly regrets having ears.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

I grin wider into my coffee.

“Oh my god,” I gasp dramatically. “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Dagger gestures vaguely toward my throat with his coffee cup.

“You’ve got bruises all over your neck.”

I glance down instinctively.