Jack and Aria: "You want me to do what?”
"You want me to do what?" Jack stood near the foot of the bed, her pants halfway on, looking at Aria with what could only be termed bewilderment.
Over the last few months, this sort of thing had become routine, then habit. Late-night rendezvous after Afterlife closed down, a romp to blow off steam, hot and rough and full of profanity and the drag of teeth on skin. Then Jack would disappear quietly back to whatever corner of Omega she called home, only to reappear again the next night, casual and raw, leaned up against one of the bars or lounging her way up the stairs to Aria's throne.
Habit, yes. Comfortable. Easy. Physical. Jack demanded nothing and neither did Aria; they simply meshed like pieces of a puzzle fitting together, and broke apart just as easily.
But the habit was as insidious as any other; it burrowed in and planted its seed somewhere deep, grew roots and took hold inside her and without any volition from her...it became important. It became serious. It made her say things even she was not expecting.
No wonder Jack gave her that perplexed look and asked her to repeat. "You want me to do what?"
"Stay," Aria mumbled, already drowsy with exertion but still as forceful in her orders as ever, and she rolled sideways to indicate the space on the bed next to her. "I want you to stay."
There was a short silence. She let her eyes drift shut, deliberately retreating to give Jack time to think over this new development. She heard a few soft footsteps, and then the mattress creaked as the young human's weight hit it again.
"Shit, I don't care where I sleep," Jack muttered, as if it didn't matter. But the tingly heat of her body pressed up against Aria's side, and Aria knew that somehow...it did.