The Institute called.
After all these days, like dust finally stirred, they still want to cooperate?
Hedi slipped off her coat and kept listening to Selina. “They want to apologize. They also sent over the data on Dark Realm Erosion.”
“Anything else?”
“The Institute refuses to accept my unilateral resignation. Says it doesn’t take effect. I’m still an Investigator.”
“That sounds like something Stratford would say.”
“Not the Deputy Director. A man made the call.” Selina frowned, combing memory like sifting leaves. “But I’ve never heard him at the Institute.”
“Likely another high-level.”
“What do you plan to do?”
Hedi sank onto the sofa, a yawn blooming like a quiet flower she didn’t notice. “If they don’t talk cooperation, we keep the status quo.”
“Sounds like they want to work with you.”
“Of course. Spellcasters look down on the Institute. They can only come to me—the one interested in the Dark Realm.”
“If you accept the files, doesn’t that mean ongoing cooperation?”
“Call it an apology for now, but it’s probably the same trick—hide key info on Dark Realm Erosion, force me to reach out. Stratford is Deputy Director; even if she didn’t call, it’s the Institute’s usual play.”
“Letting them pull the strings.”
“That sounds too passive, but also my own doing.”
Hedi lay crooked on the sofa, eyes lifting to a corner of the ceiling like watching a pale moon.
Frankly, I never dug deep into Dark Realm Erosion. I haven’t given it the focus or the hard, quiet thought it deserves.
This distance bred by erosion feels hollow to me:
The headaches were brutal, yes, but that was long ago. They haven’t returned.
So when Olina says I’m “about to die,” my body doesn’t ring the alarm. I can’t feel the slow slide toward an end, and there’s no fire at my brows.
Selina tore open a food bag, handed Hedi one, and settled in beside her for lunch.
“You just said the situation now is your own making?”
“I rely too much on the unknown magic that shields my brain. So ‘about to die’ doesn’t land with any weight.”
“Who says that!” Selina clenched the bag, voice rising like a kettle, then forced it low. “You don’t look sickly at all!”
“Right. No discomfort, no nightmares, appetite fine. It could be the last flare before dusk.”
“Don’t say that. Smart people live a thousand years.”
“By then, you’ll be compost.”
“Even then, I’d stay with you.”
“Stay for what? I’ll toss you in the toilet and flush.”
“Professor!”
Hedi watched Selina’s coy, scolding face. The more she looked, the brighter she felt. A smile pricked at the corners of her lips like two fireflies, then spilled across her delicate, pale features, turning a quiet face into a warmth that could melt an iceberg.
“Has anyone told you you’re adorable?”
“With an adorable person beside me, my own adorableness stops being adorable.”
“No, I’m not adorable.”
“You’re adorable-adorable!”
“What kind of adorable is that?”
“Small body, soft, warm, and sweet.”
“Sounds pervy—whoa!”
A sudden shove tipped Hedi backward. That brief weightlessness drummed her heart. Then her back met the sofa. The plush cushions caught the fall like a slow wave, her body sinking into the foldable softness.
“It’s not just your words. Your behavior’s pervy too.”
“Who told you to be so cute?”
“Not cute.”
Hedi started to rise. Selina swung a leg over her and sat astride, eyes fixed on hers like a fern-fringed lake fixing the sky.
For a moment, only air moved and hearts beat. At the table edge, a food bag refused silence. It slid off, smacked the floor, and burst a brown-yellow oil stain, splattering its cargo.
Hedi cupped Selina’s face, tugging that gaze back to her. “I rank below a food bag?”
“No, no. It’s just the floor got dirty.”
“Clean it later.”
“You’ll clean.”
“No. You caused this.”
“Looks like me, but actually you.”
Hedi let Selina’s fingers roam her face—gliding down the full apple of her cheeks, tracing the neat, sculpted jawline, then retracing the path to knead the faintly flushed skin.
“I did nothing.”
“You’re seducing me!”
“Twisting facts.”
Hedi shook her head, then a thought flickered. Her eyes pinned the hand on her cheek, especially the thumbs-up tilt of that lifted thumb.
She parted her lips and bit gently on the warm thumb. A sheen of oil still clung to it, tasting like a fried little meatball.
“Pro... Professor...”
“Your lunch isn’t the same as mine.”
“Meatballs.”
“I’ve eaten that shop’s meatballs.”
“They’re pretty good.”
“Really? Has my sense of taste dulled?” Hedi leaned in, teasing, brushing Selina’s thumb with her lips, wobbling it lightly. The saliva left behind softened her dry mouth. “I taste nothing at all.”
“Wait—the mailman’s coming soon.”
“Delivering the Dark Realm Erosion files?”
Selina blushed and nodded like a wound-up puppet. “If he hears us, it’s over!”
“Then... help me up...”
“No.”
“I told you, didn’t I?”
“We’re not at the Academy, and this is your fault!”
Hedi narrowed her eyes, thought for a long beat, then played dumb with a small shake. “Can’t think of anything I did.”
“Nothing.”
“Right, right. My mind is filthy.”
“You smell—”
“The witch said I carry the stench of death. Can you smell it?”
Selina lay on Hedi and sniffed, testing. “Not rotten. Hard to say. You don’t smell like this normally.”
“Getting stranger.”
“Do you know what I mean?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“...Really.”
“It’s like perfume, but only in certain moments. A special scent, same as the last few times we—”
Hedi cut in. “You’re not about to say I... I...” She trailed off, too shy to say it.
“Yes! That! And you still blush!”
“I’m not blushing.”
“A stubborn Professor is adorable too!”
“The mailman’s about to arrive.” Hedi pushed at Selina, but Selina held her wrists. “Don’t mess around. Seriously...”
“Resist anytime. I can’t beat a Spellcaster like you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Say whatever you want. If you choose to tempt me, forget about a peaceful end!”
A subtle response stirred in Hedi’s body. An itch unfurled like grass under rain, then turned into a surge—silent, pressing, something about to break soil.
That special scent grew thicker.
