Aversion

Sunlight, filtered through the venetian blinds the previous tenant had left in my bedroom, wormed its way through my eyelids and woke me up. In no hurry to deal with my new and confusing life, I clapped a hand over my face, hoping to stifle the light long enough to lose consciousness again. Suddenly I remembered I had company.

"Beck?" I muttered, "are you still here?"

No answer. 

I moved to uncover my eyes and look for her, but my hand seemed reluctant to go where I asked it to. I must have slept on my arm, I decided. After too much of an effort, I pulled my palm away from my face. An itchy sensation tickled my cheeks.

I brushed at my face and was rewarded with a hot line of pain. What? Sitting up, holding my hand in a sunbeam, I barely suppressed a scream.

Rust.

A tiny spot on my palm, the color of dried blood. I turned my hand over, horrified to discover that my brand had apparently rusted through flesh and bone overnight. 

"What the f**k?! No!"

"It says right there on the first page not to get it wet," a voice admonished, and I turned to see Lee, splayed out on my bed, naked, but covered with shifting, grinding lines of silver, her skin a twisted blend of tan and chrome. Camouflage for a steel mill.

I itched frantically at my ruined hand, pulling flakes of rust away, digging against corroded bone, terrible in its painlessness. How much of me was dead? Could I save the rest?

"You can't take care of the simplest things," Lee sneered, raising a hand wreathed in silver. Her form was skeletal. Was this what awaited a Conclave member? A ruined body, more metal than meat? "This is a favor and you know it."

She spat a word I couldn't understand. Fire gathered in her open palm, licking towards me, alive and purposeful, and I couldn't decide if I wanted her to spare me-

-I sat up hard, choking off a scream, and it was a minute or two before I got my bearings. Sunlight, filtered through the venetian blinds the previous tenant had left in my bedroom, drew golden lines across the relative darkness. Morning, then. Or later. How long had I slept?

What a fucked up dream.

I turned to Beck and was surprised for a moment when she wasn't there. I blinked at the rumpled but vacant sheets next to me, one of her long brown hairs left on my extra pillow. At least she'd been real. The hair was proof. I hadn't imagined her bizarre appearance and the quiet, familiar night that followed. So why had she gone?

And where?

I sighed and levered myself out of bed, wincing at the chill of my crappy floor. Autumn was in full swing now, and the mornings had a bite that would surprise me until at least November. I've always been slow to adjust to changes. In a good year, I'd start wearing my winter coat sometime before Christmas.

Pulling a shirt on over my rumpled head, I suddenly noticed a strange and unfamiliar scent. Sizzling, popping noises wormed under the closed bedroom door, barely audible, and I simply sat and listened for a few seconds. I recognized this, but what was it...

When I heard Beck's voice yelp in surprise and pain, I knew. Incredible. It had been months, at least.

Breakfast.

With a new and surprising vigor, I pulled on some jeans and hurried into my kitchen, finally registering the unusual scent as bacon. Which explained the sizzles, the pops, and Beck's yelling- she would insist upon cooking in one of those ridiculous camisoles that girls wear. Sure enough, when I walked into the kitchen she was hopping comically around the stove, wincing at the tiny flecks of boiling oil that peppered her arms, shoulders, and largely exposed chest. I'd nearly forgotten what an astoundingly bad cook she was. I'd seen this before, and learned my lesson about laughing.

“Would you like a T-shirt?” I said, coming up beside her, admiring her handiwork. Scrambled eggs, cooked with the handful of Mexican Mix shredded cheese I'd had in my fridge. A single experimental sausage. At least ten slices of wheat toast. Don't laugh, I reminded myself.

At least the bacon was still salvageable, I decided, diplomatically taking the spatula from Beck under the pretense of wanting to hold her hand and turn her around. She smiled beatifically at me. “I'm almost done anyway. I made you breakfast!”

“I can see that. It's nice to wake up to the smell of bacon. How'd you sleep?” I prodded at the bacon, immersed as it was in roiling, fatty liquid. It almost looked like she'd added water for some reason, but I wasn't going to look any closer.

“Very nicely. I couldn't sleep at all, without you. I needed that.”

“Me too,” I said, out of reflex.

Beck grinned and snuggled her face against my chest. “I'm so glad this worked out all right. That we can go back to how things were.”

“...Me too.”

“Want some breakfast?”

I glanced over the top of her head at the contemptible array of items on my counter. It was all I could do to suppress a laugh. “I thought it'd be nice to take you out, actually. You know, a change of pace. We always did stay in too much.”

She looked at me oddly, her smile faltering for a moment. Only a moment, though. A heartbeat later, she looked just as pleased as ever. “Okay, sounds nice. Let me get dressed.”

“Hold on, I'll walk you home.”

“Oh, no need,” she said, waving me off. “I'm all set.” Before I could ask what she meant, she pulled a loaded duffel bag from behind the counter. Apparently she'd come prepared to sleep over.

“I guess I should have known you didn't walk over here naked.”

“Of course not, that... was sort of a last-minute idea. Ugh, I feel like such a loser. That was really out of character for me, wasn't it?”

That was one way to put it. “A little.”

“Well, just the same,” she said, pulling some jeans from her bag, “I'm glad we didn't, you know, do anything. It would have been weird under the circumstances.”

“Very.”

"Did you... want to?"

"What, now?"

She laughed. "Last night. I thought I was pulling out all the stops, but you didn't seem that impressed. At the time, I thought you would just jump on me."

Almost did. "Well, if it had just been a matter of what I want..." I shrugged. "But I could tell right away something was wrong. I wouldn't want to take advantage of a bad situation."

"You're the best," she sighed happily, bending to pull her pajama bottoms off on the spot. I averted my eyes, concentrating on the health hazard of a breakfast that I'd just narrowly escaped.

"When did you get shy?"

"What?" I said, watching the bacon flop around like a suffering snake.

"You don't have to look away like that, Tyler, you've seen me naked like five thousand times." She finished zipping her jeans, and I looked back, only for her to whip the oil-spotted cami off over her head. So much for that. 

"I don't know. Just not sure if I should be staring right now. After yesterday, I mean."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I guess I don't either. I'm just... adjusting."

She laughed lightly. "You always have been slow to adjust. How long until you're willing to look again?"

"Um,"

"I'm just kidding. Relax. Let's go get something to eat."

*

Reviews

[UponATyme]

No one cares that the blinds are venetian. And there's something fishy about Beck. I don't like her. But I guess that's a good thing. She's not a Sue.

Also, if this turns into a "am I more machine than man" sort of thing, I might have to beat you.