About three weeks ago I had a heart to heart discussion with my husband. I told him that after his years of asking me to spank him as part of our sex life I would consider doing so, but not as a prelude to sex. His only spanking would be as a disciplinary measure when I felt he was behaving in an inappropriate manner. If he could agree to this concept I would begin spanking him that evening. He agreed not really knowing what I really had in mind. (I had already found a good spanking tool. It was an old long handled âluffaâ brush. The handle is fifteen inches long and the business end is about 3Ă4 inches. I removed the âluffaâ scrub part).
About 9PM that evening we retired to our bedroom and I asked him if he still agreed to my terms. He said yes. We have a large wooden chest at the foot of our bed on which I sat down. I asked him to stand beside me and lower his pants and underwear. I told him to lay across my knees and thighs and once the spanking began he was not to move or attempt to stop his punishment or the spanking would last longer and be much harder. During this first session I gave him about thirty strokes with my brush handle. His rear was bright red and he squirmed a great deal. Once I was finished I asked him to stand beside the bed facing away from me. I left the room and returned in about fifteen minutes. I asked him was he still willing to conform to my spanking requirements. He agreed.
However, the most interesting part took place five days later. I must share this because it really showed me things were turning around. We were at a party on Friday evening. It was at a neighborâs home about three houses down the block from our home. My husband had one too many drinks and made several off color remarks. In the past I might have been embarassed and said nothing. This time I went to him and told him to excuse himself as we had to go home to get something. He looked at me with a slightly surprised and alarmed look.
When we stepped outside the door I told him he was to go home immediately where I would administer a severe spanking for his boorish behavior.
We went home and I took him to our bedroom. After taking off my jacket I had him lower his pants and underwear and lay across my thighs. I spanked him for ten or fifteen minutes as hard as I could swing that brush. His rear was a bright purple red color and tears streamed down his face. I told him to get dressed as we were going back to the party. He was to be on his very best behavior or the next spanking would be much worse. He stood by my side and never sat down, but was a model husband. I was very proud of him and myself for mastering this situation.
He is more helpful and loving in every way he can be. I have spanked him twice since that fateful night and both times his pain was great, but his demeanor was wonderful.
I want to thank you for opening up this new part of my life.
read more about this week's daily writing challenge here! @daily-writing-challenge
word count: 2087
content warnings: none!
summary: Raenessa's spent a century looking at her sister like a mirror. She's still figuring out how to contend with her emotions about the fact that the mirror won't ever be the same, again.
Rae looked up from where she sat on the broken-down couch in the apartment she shared with her sister, her brows raising as her eyes swept over Eerie. They'd always had the habit of changing places - but, recently, Eerie's hair had finally regrown long enough that she could let it down from her normal buns in favor of the short bob that Rae normally sported. Honestly, if it weren't for the microscopic differences they only they knew how to detect? It was like looking into a mirror.
"Oh, we're back in business," Rae confirmed. "Just stop standing with your weight on one hip, and roll the shoulders forward a little."
"Yeah, 'cause you're always fuckin' slouching," Eerie scoffed. "You're gonna give yourself back pain that way, dipshit."
To that, Rae stood, sniffing as she closed the gap between herself and Eerie, shoving her at the shoulder. "Then you get to suffer with me, jerkass. Now go switch the jacket - mine's on the dresser."
After Eerie had performed the switch and tossed her usual outfit to her sister, Rae had changed her clothes, tying her hair up into the pair of buns balanced precariously atop her head (Eerie swore they were power buns, which Rae vehemently disagreed with) and stepping out of their apartment complex into the streets of the Row. There wasn't anything that'd triggered this swap, except for the sheer enjoyment of it. The ability to see if they truly could again.
They walked together towards the Bazaar, passing through the Row and narrowly avoiding the piercing glares of a few passers-by; having set up something of a reputation for themselves as remorseless street kids, it was harder and harder to get anywhere without a rat or two from their new home district recognizing them for one petty crime or another. Still, that much was done without incident, and the twins squinted their eyes in uncanny unison as they stepped out of the shadows into the bright sunlight of the remainder of the city.
Eerie pulled a cigarette from her pack, and like clockwork, Rae snatched the pack away to steal one for herself. Ordinarily, the roles would be in reverse - but Rae pulled the matchbook from her pocket, lighting her own cigarette before barking a heads-up of "think fast, chucklefuck!" and lobbing the matchbook at her sister. Eerie caught it, nearly fumbling it to the street, before shoving Rae's shoulder and lighting her own.
"Asshole!" Eerie hissed. "Coulda dropped it."
"But you didn't," Rae countered. "I gotta keep you on your toes."
"Sure, sure."
They hit the Bazaar soon after, and eventually, under the shade of one of the awnings outside of an abandoned shop, they saw the person they were looking for. The elf's back was turned as he chattered to a presumed acquaintance, and the twins looked at each other before a silent nod acknowledged the approach.
Rae took a drag of her cigarette, flicking the ash onto the street before Eerie called out. "Orandin! Good to see you made it back from the Scar in one piece."
The elf in question - their contact for a proposed job - turned, and Rae immediately saw the severe scar that had mauled half of his face. It looked almost as if someone had taken a blade and cleaved clear through his face, from temple to jawline, and she blew out a breath. "Or two pieces," she mumbled, earning an elbow from Eerie.
"Ah. Raenessa. Eerie. A pleasure to see you both. Shall we step inside?" Orandin swept a hand towards the door of the shop, and Rae's brow raised before she shook her head.
"Prefer to stay outside, thanks. Don't really do 'dark and creepy space with no witnesses' on the first date," she deadpanned. Eerie, to her credit, played her role perfectly - shooting Rae a warning look, she sighed and returned her attention to their contact.
"Forgive my sister," Eerie said, seeing the way Orandin had frowned in disapproval. "We're working on her manners."
"My manners're fine," Raenessa ground out. "I'm being reasonable, Rae."
"Reasonable also means understanding when a conversation is meant to be private, Eerie," her sister replied tersely. "It'll be fine. Go in."
Rolling her eyes, Rae jabbed a finger towards Orandin. "One wrong move? The deal's off. One really wrong move, and I'll finish the set on your face."
That earned a scoff from their client, even as Rae stalked into the building. It was clean, for the most part; whatever dust and debris had been inside was long since cleared out, with a few candles lighting the room as she leaned against the far wall. She watched as Orandin and Eerie stepped inside, followed by the acquaintance that the former had been speaking with. That was an unknown variable, and she shook her head slightly in blatant disagreement. "Didn't say you'd have company. This is between you, me, and my sister. Your friend stays outside." Her tone brooked no room for argument: Eerie, of course, fulfilled the role of negotiator for all of their contracts. Today, it meant that Rae was doing the job.
"You'll have to pardon it, I'm afraid, Eerie," Orandin responded, his tone world-weary. "This is my solicitor, Vorinth. He shall be providing most of the⊠binding input, from my end of the negotiations. I fear that employment contracts are simply not my specialty. You understand."
"Then call him in after we've set terms, and he'll review them," Rae argued back. "I don't discuss drafts with third parties present."
Orandin frowned, seemingly debating that for a moment - then his hand raised, and he waved Vorinth towards the door. "Very well. You may remain outside, Vorinth. I will send for you when we are ready."
Vorinth nodded, silently excusing himself from the room before Rae, Eerie and Orandin took seats at the table holding the center of the room - Orandin on one side, and the twins on the other. Rae leaned aside in her seat, cigarette held between two fingers as she took a drag, and Eerie leaned back, arms folded as she watched Orandin with a careful, keen eye.
"Alright," Rae said after a moment. "You clearly know where to look, if you're talking to us. What's the job?"
That pulled a small smile to Orandin's lips, and he tilted his head, folding his hands on the table. "It's quite simple, my dear," he said, his tone condescendingly saccharine. "I want you to kill my wife."
â ··« â »·· â
áŽÊáŽê±áŽÉŽáŽ ᎠáŽÊ
Rae walked into the home that she and Eerie had recently acquired, tossing her rucksack onto the bench by the entryway and deftly avoiding the dual tripwires strung across the floor. In a rare instance, Eerie was sitting on the chaise by the fireplace, a coffee mug in one hand and a book in the other. She didn't look up to her sister as Rae found her place on the accompanying armchair, and briefly, Rae reflected on the irony of her sister seemingly reading despite the veil over her eyes.
"How'd it go?" Eerie asked, taking a sip from her coffee. "Get what you needed?"
"Yeah," Rae sighed, wiping a hand over her face. "You're never gonna believe this, though. You remember Orandin? That jackass who had us off his wife after the war?"
That caught Eerie's attention, and her head turned towards Rae as she set the book down. "The, uh, priest?"
"That's the one."
"Yeah, I remember him. Why? What's he up to?" Eerie's tone betrayed her intrigue as her ears flicked forward, and Rae scoffed in response, leaning over to steal her coffee. She took a sip, the burnt grind mingling with the unmistakable sting of vodka causing her to blink in surprise.
"Eerie, it's ten in the fuckin' morning."
"Yeah, and the party stops for no man. Now tell me what he wants." Eerie leaned over, reclaiming her mug as Rae snorted her disdain.
"It's not what he wants," Rae responded. "It's that he's our target. Seems he's been lifting a bit more from the infirmary coffers than he should be. One of his colleagues doesn't like it, much - wants us to break into his place and steal his valuables."
"⊠How much we talking?" Eerie asked, head canting.
"I dunno. He said something to the tune of a few thousand gold's worth." Rae laced her hands behind her head, one foot kicked up onto the edge of the coffee table as she rocked her chair onto its back legs. Eerie's jaw dropped, then closed, and there was a long pause before she seemed to find the words.
"And⊠how much is our cut supposed to be of this?"
"Hundred and fifty gold," Rae answered. "Said it should cover hazard pay in case Orandin went and rigged the place."
"Uh, yeah, no, one hundred and fifty is dirt-fuckin'-cheap by comparison. Did you tell him to fuck off?" Eerie grimaced, picking up her book again.
"Nah," Rae sighed. "Told him I'd discuss it with my business associate. We've got a meeting tonight at nine."
Eerie groaned, looking over her shoulder. "How the fuck are we meant to do that, Rae. I can't walk anywhere in the city without getting recognized, these days - I'm not exactly subtle."
Raenessa shrugged a shoulder casually, a thoughtful frown pulling at her lips before she answered. "Illusions."
"Fucking - what?" Eerie sat up, her upper body twisting so she could turn herself more fully towards her sister. "You want to use illusions. In a magic city. Fucker, they'll pick up in record time to anyone watching."
"Right," Rae drawled, looking up. "But they won't watch too closely if you null the aura. There are perks to you going all 'devourer', y'know."
"Right. And why, exactly? What's the point you're getting at."
"Point I'm getting at is, I don't want to negotiate this with my face," Rae answered dryly. "Guy's not spooked enough by me, so we gotta kick it up a notch, and I know you don't want to negotiate this job."
Eerie sighed, her head tipping towards the ceiling. "It's a terrible idea."
"Or, it's just like old times," Rae suggested. "C'mon, Eerie. Let's try it, at least. Plus, it gives me practice."
"Right, 'cause you're all-in on the whole spellblade thing," Eerie huffed. "Fine. But if you illusion me with a flat ass, I'm gonna kick yours into the ground."
"Scout's honor, I would never," Rae retorted as she stood. "That'd mean I'm saying I have a flat ass."
Eerie pushed up from the chaise as Rae grabbed a well-worn spellbook and her reagent pouch from one of the bookshelves. After a few moments, the spellwork hung in the air, and Rae took in a deep breath before performing the final gesture that would set it into motion. The familiar feeling of arcane rushed up her arms, warming her entire body, and a moment later a thin veil seemed to settle over her. Her vision rippled, and when she blinked, she was looking at her sister.
A small, involuntary smile curved against her lips. "Think it worked," she whispered, and the echo of the Void that touched Eerie's voice followed it. Eerie's hand came up, reaching out to touch Rae's face as she let out a low whistle.
"That's fuckin' uncanny, Raerae. I get what you mean about me being weird to look at, but this is⊠an extra step." Eerie stepped back to examine the full breadth of the illusion, and Rae shrugged a shoulder.
"What do you think? Enough like you?"
Eerie scoffed, shaking her head. "Shift your weight and square your shoulders," she coached. "C'mon. I've got perfect posture, now."
"Yeah, on account of your giant fuckin' head."
Eerie tutted, frowning. "Shut the fuck up, Rae, you have the same head size that I do. Now - shoulders back, dipshit."
As they moved through the familiar motions of posture correction, vocal inflections, and idle habits, a surge of something that felt like both grief and contentment made its way through Rae's chest. When Eerie had become Illidari, she'd been convinced that they'd never be able to slip into this again - the illusion of being one another. She'd missed it: the feeling of having a mirror that walked alongside her in each step, and that felt as much like her as anything else.
She'd have to send her mentor a gift basket, she decided. Thanks to her, Rae had gotten this small piece of normalcy back, after all.
"He's got a snout, Gwen! Spend a lot of time shaggin' pups, do ya?"
"Anyway, my money's on twenty-five."
"Oh please, we've all seen that limp. If he's a day under fifty I'll eat Ginger's hat."
"Why my hat?"
"My hat's nicer than yours."
Leon could get used to being a janitor. It was a simple, useful job that kept him indoors and out of trouble, for the most part. Cleaning up a brothel was its own handful of hazards, and sometimes he contemplated ripping his nose off so he couldn't smell what he was cleaning up, but on the whole it was a pretty cushy gig. The ladies were all cordial to him, too, once they got past the initial awkwardness of the friggin' dog-monster walking around with a mop.
After the first week or so, they even treated him to some friendly teasing now and again. He didn't take it too seriously, though he did appreciate it; it just meant that they were comfortable around him. It was their job, after all, was making a lad feel welcome. He was just the guy that kept their rooms tidy. They probably just liked making him do the worgen equivalent of blushing all the time.
And then on the third week, they ambushed him.
Miss Ginger had complained about an odd smell in the baths downstairs and asked him to try and find it, apologizing all the while. She hated asking him to stick his nose in something that already didn't smell good, but it was just so hard to pinpoint...
He completely missed the cheeky grin that crossed her face as he leaned past the full, steaming tub to see what he could find behind it.
Scrawny thing that he was, his body still made a truly spectacular splash as he hit the water, coming up sputtering and grabbing at the sides.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry! Here, sit still, let me get those off you and we can clean you up--"
Leon's ears shot straight up and then fell almost limp against his skull. "Do what?" He practically squeaked when he felt her hands tugging on his soaked shirt, not even bothering to push his fur out of his eyes before he tried to climb out of the tub. Naturally, he failed utterly to place his feet right and crashed back into the water again. Miss Ginger's hands found him again almost immediately, and swatted at his.
"--and quit squirming before you hurt yourself!"
If it weren't for that damned fur, he would've been beet red, but he was pretty sure if he kept trying to get out, he was indeed going to either hurt himself, or her, so he forced himself to sit still. Ginger smirked and patted his nose with a satisfied hum, then got to work. She still had to coax him to lift his arms, and he felt a ridiculous impulse to cover his bared chest.
He squawked like a startled parrot when he realized she was going for his belt.
"I can wash myself just fine! Uh, ma'am!"
The redhead's giggle was immediate and wicked, and did nothing at all to help him stop trying to blush his fur clean off. Still, she did straighten up and step away as she rolled up the soaked fabric in her hands.
"Spoilsport. Fine, get undressed and I'll be back for the rest of it. And before you say anything else: you smell like low tide threw up on the wastebins out back. No matter what else happens today, you're taking a bath, so you might as well get on with it."
As his mouth dropped open, Miss Ginger left him to his own devices as promised. He stared at the doorway for a moment, then down at his clothed legs under the water.
What is even happening today.
Then he gave some thought to the last few minutes, in particular the way Ginger's hips had swayed on her way out. Then he thought about the fact he had tried to stop a pretty redhead who pleasured people for a living from getting his pants off.
I think I might actually be stupid.
---
Thankfully, Miss Ginger was quite accustomed to dealing with stupid men, and merciful enough to this particular one that she did actually come back after about ten minutes. She did seem to be genuinely surprised to find he'd followed orders and left his belt and pants out, and even more so that he was completely covered in bubbles. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of that charcoal snout poking out of all those soap suds, and Leon made no attempt to clear them away.
"Cute. So, can I come in now?"
The mass of bubbles paused, then titled his head. "...Sorry, what?"
Ginger sighed melodramatically as she leaned over the side of the tub and blew the bubbles until she'd uncovered his eyes. "Did you really want to just play in the bubbles for a while? Because I can go back upstairs if you'd rather."
"Um--" Once again, a pretty woman was offering to give him a fantasy, and he couldn't get a word out. Or figure out what to do with his hands. Or do literally anything except stare at her until his vision blurred. And say 'um,' he did that one again for good measure.
After a couple seconds of that, Ginger set her hands on the edge of the tub and pushed herself up to get a good look at him, brow furrowed. As she took in the expression on his face and the fidgeting of his hands under the water, her eyes went wide. "Oh, honey... I'm not your first, am I?"
Oh. Back to trying to blush so hard he exploded. Cool. "Wh--My f--wh--"
"I'm not judging, obviously, I just thought--"
"--No!"
"It's completely okay if I am!"
"You're NOT!"
She paused, eyeing him up and down. "You're sure about that?"
Annnnnnnd there went his ears pulling their disappearing act again. "Plenty!"
"Oh, you were doing so good, don't start fibbing now."
Leon felt himself trying to sink through the bottom of the tub and into the floor. He considered lying again before a defeated sigh escaped him instead. "Just... just the one. The once."
"Ohh, honey." She reached out to touch under his muzzle, and he made no attempt to dodge her. "Everyone knows the second time is better anyway." Then she pecked his nose.
"So. Can I come in, now?"
---
"Aren't we looking smug today."
"Mm-hmm. First of all, nobody wins."
"What?"
"We all overshot."
"What?!"
"Second of all, he's got some work to do, but you really need to ask him what he can do with his tongue."
Daily Writing Challenge â November 2025 â Day 1 â November 9th â Sweet/Static
Just a few weeks ago:
Andivia sweeps into the room in a powder blue, floor-length halter style gown, her hair pulled up into a soft updo, sapphires dripping from her ears, neck and wrist. A shawl, knitted in a shell pattern, is draped around her thin shoulders, and she smells sweetly of vanilla and lavender. She smiles brightly at her mother as she comes into the dining room where the luncheon is supposed to take place, only to see a mere six place settings at the grand dining table.
Perplexed, she looks at her mom.
âAre⊠are we not having a luncheon?â she asks, the confusion spreading across her face.
âOh, darling, we are, itâs just, uh, a bit smaller than I may have originally thought.â Liriah smiles, and the lie is immediately evident, she had always been a bad liar, and Andi picked up on it right away, her brow furrowing.
âMother. What is actually going on?â the Priestess demands.
Liriah attempts to pretend she doesnât know what her daughter is talking about, but the look on Andiâs face says she knows exactly whatâs going on.
âNo,â Andi says, firmly.
âBut you havenât even heard-â she begins, but Andi cuts her off.
âNo, Mother, I donât care, and I donât want to hear, and I -donât- want to meet him. At all, ever.â
âBut, Andivia, I think if you just gave him a chanceâŠâ
âMother! No!â she hisses. âI donât care who he is, I donât care what he does, I donât even care who his parents are, or what you had to tell them to get them here. Itâs not happening, ever, so just stop!â
âAndivia Jovilenne Hopebringer, you are being entirely unreasonable, and extremely ungrateful,â Liriah nearly yells.
âDo you know whatâs unreasonable, mother?! You, trying to set me up with every single, or just unmarried, noble male you come across! Does it not matter what I want for myself?! Do you not care! It feels like you donât care!â Andi takes a deep breath. âIf you do this again, if you even suggest that thereâs someone you want me to meet, if you try to introduce me to someone at a party, or a dinner, or a gala, or a fundraiser, thatâs it, youâre done, you will not see me, or my children again. Iâll sell the house here, and weâll move to Pandaria full time. And you will NEVER. SEE. THEM. AGAIN. Do you understand me?â
The older elven woman looks shocked, she stands there, mouth open, stunned into silence. The anger from her daughterâs words crackled like static electricity between them, making the air feel charged and heavy.
âYou donât mean that,â her mother says, her voice quivering.
âTry me, mother. I mean every single word. I have never been more serious about something in my entire life. I am not Anna, and I canât bring back Arias. I am Andivia, and this is my life, not yours, so stay out of it.â She turns quickly, the skirt of her gown flaring around her as she heads to the door to the dining room, and towards the front door, which she slams behind her to emphasize her words.
Herbs, it was always something that took love and gentle touch. Something the medic was so great at, having to calculate the touch to picking each herb, being delicate in her ways not to bruise the plant itself from where she may have plucked what she needed, always taking just that, never being greedy in her ways. Holding up the Icecap she had gathered while being in Northrend once more, always having been fascinated by the properties of each frozen herb, this one was always used as a cooling agent in her salves, something to aid the ache on any body it say upon with the lace of snow lily to break down and be absorbed within the skin for a calming effect, something soothing, something to ethereal-bringing a feeling to the ones wounds to be at ease.
Striving for the freshest and best picked herbs she had wandered from the tournament grounds way past her tent to do so after a good round of watching performers and dancing, it was peaceful again in her mind. Closing her seafoam eyes she took in the chill of the winds as they softly kissed her skin where it could. Making sure she was bundled this round for the adventure, often thought of ways to help those around, and performers utmost, aside from the guards who were always out making sure there was peace within the grounds.Â
A small hum was given, recalling Nahilviâs song, as well as some of the other performers as she made her way back to the camp, she did have to break down the herbs and seep them after all, with a small sway of her hips and a twirl while she went back to render down her findings, the whole time thinking of her new friends. How she could aid them and as well as perfect her own remedies and be able to feel free-though she was free. The winds howled around the rocks giving a faint hum, a smile was given as she appreciated every bit of the nature the northrend ever had to offer in its Winterland beauty.
Seeing her fire she had left was now hot coals she would slowly unbury the wood she had brought along just for the events of camping and keeping warm, placing it on the fire it didnât take long for it to catch, she then went into her tent and began to rummage through the continents of the backpack, always adoring this enchanted big yellow backpack, slowly finding her things to help her steep the herbs, as well as a few of her notes, exiting the tent she began to set things up, spilling the contents out and in an orderly fashion as she did, going over the notes and slowly starting her journey of making the salves.Â
Humming all the while, waiting for the herbs to do their thing, there had to be a calculated time, to get the perfect breakdown and meld, it was deemed necessary, something she always made sure of, once the herbs were done she would add them into a bowl, along with a soothing oiled cloth for a body wrap, carefully rolling it within the contents to make sure it would soak at an even rate. Seafoam eyes danced from the cloth to the notes as she had to make sure everything went smoothly, a dance she adored to play in. Once done and nearly every bit of the content absorbed, she would then take the metal tubing and gently place it in, assuring not much of the product dripped off, not wanting to lose the potency.
Once done she sighed happily, she would soon enough repeat as she glanced to where the others were every so often, the place humming and always hearing others cheer and yell, knowing they were all safe and well kept, the staff alone was wonderful as always.
âHas anyone ever told you that youâre too serious?â
Nahi looked up from the open textbook beside her. She was holding half of a ham and brie sandwich with garlic whole-grain mustard, and didnât want to smear it over the section on gastrointestinal maladies. Violet eyes blinked at the speaker, one of her classmates.
âYou know,â she said, âthatâs not something Iâve ever been accused of.â That wasnât true, well not exactly, Irenthalas had said things similar, but not exactly.Â
Gavelin turned the chair on her left around and sat astride it, arms folded over the backrest. âYou are. You might smile, charm, and tease with the best of them, but the inside of your head is very serious.â
He had a reputation for unnervingly sharp insight, and most of their classmates had been subjected to his too-knowing observations. So far, Nahi had been spared.
She set down her sandwich and wiped her hands clean, meeting his gaze long enough to make most people uncomfortable. Not him, he just waited her out until she broke and said, âAlright, enlighten me.â
âYou joined every study group last semester even though your grades were fine.â
The word fine made her wrinkle her nose. He noticed, chuckled, and marked an invisible tally in the air.
âYou had the worst case of test anxiety,â he went on.
âOther people had test anxiety too.â
âI said the worst case. If you were as carefree as you like to seem, you wouldnât have been so bothered.â
When she didnât argue, he continued. âYou care deeply about being good at everything you do.â
âI donât see anything wrong with being good at things.â
His knowing gold eyes, as rich as amber, stayed on her until she waved a hand. âGo on.â
âWhen they announced placements for the practicals today, you looked like someone shot your puppy.â
She groaned softly. He was second in their class and had gotten one of the two emergency rotations sheâd been hoping for.
Nahi held up a finger. âAlright, but Iâm planning to work in the field, and you know that. Getting that kind of experience wouldâve been helpful.â
The cheeky bastard picked up the other half of her sandwich and took a bite, earning a dirty look.
âYou owe me fifty silver,â she said flatly.
âThat whole sandwich was only ten.â
Nahi smiled sweetly. âYes, but it was more valuable to me because it was mine.â
Gavelin snorted, then grabbed her pencil and scribbled an IOU on the napkin sheâd thrown at him. âPracticals are only a month long. Thatâs not enough time to learn how to be a combat medic. Itâs barely enough to know if youâd even enjoy that sort of work.â
She didnât argue, he wasnât wrong, but disappointment still lingered.
âYou got a surgical rotation,â he added. âThatâs just as good for you as the ER wouldâve been. Better hours, real surgeries. Honestly, Iâm jealous.â
âWant to trade?â she asked with a deceptively sweet smile.
âNot on your life,â he scoffed. âI earned it.â
âOuch.â
He marked another invisible point in the air. âSee?â
