Limitless Evolution As a Snake

Shut up.

[System: Just asking the important questions.]

I ignore him and keep my eyes on Cherry, who’s gone all soft and glowy, tail wrapped around her own leg like she doesn’t know what to do with the amount of feelings currently happening in her body.

Meanwhile, a furious pink blush crawls up Channel’s neck, flooding her face and the tips of her ears.

"Right, well," she says, voice cracking slightly, "I should- I’ll just- I’ll see myself out-"

She’s already moving, wings twitching like she wants to just take off through the roof.

"Bye, Channel," I say, not even looking at her, still got my tail on Cherry’s head.

She makes a strangled little noise and is out the door faster than I’ve seen her move this entire time I’ve known her. Which, considering she’s basically a professional killer in a trench coat of soft-girl charm, is saying something.

Lyra watches her go, arms crossed, green eyes narrowed in thought.

"Huh," she says. "Maybe I should take my clothes off."

I freeze.

"She’s literally still in the apartment, Lyra."

"I know," Lyra says, already reaching for her jacket zipper. "Feels like a competition now."

[System: Ohhh, this is the content I signed up for! Does this mean we’re doing the thing? Am I finally getting invited to the thing?]

Absolutely not, I tell him.

Cherry’s still leaning into my tail, eyes half shut, completely unaware that the room has just turned into some kind of standoff between a dark elf who wants to strip and a koala ghost begging to watch.

"Matt," she says, voice all small and warm, "say something else nice."

And damn it, I do.

"You’re soft," I whisper to her. "Like, actually soft. Not just the skin thing, I mean the whole package. You worry about everything and somehow that makes you the least annoying person I know."

Cherry makes a sound like a kettle starting to boil.

"That’s- that’s not- I don’t know what to do with that," she manages, and her tail is doing this slow curl and uncurl thing against her own leg like it’s got a mind of its own.

"You don’t have to do anything with it," I say. "Just take it."

She takes it badly. Her whole face is the colour of a stop sign and she’s staring at some point on my chest like it holds the answers to the universe.

Lyra, meanwhile, has stopped mid-zip on her jacket, green eyes flicking between Cherry and me like she’s watching a very slow tennis match. Then she just shrugs and zips the jacket back up instead.

"Nah," she says, more to herself than anyone. "Not worth the effort right now."

She grabs her boots and shoves her feet in one at a time, hopping slightly. Once she’s steady, her gaze sweeps over me and then Cherry, taking in the vibe of our kitchen-turned-emotional-support-group.

"I’m going to work," she announces.

"I’ll miss you," I tease.

"And I’m going to check up on what that girl’s up to," she adds, voice going flat and professional, all business now, cop-brain switched on like a light. "Channel, or whatever she’s actually called."

"Good idea," I agree. "I think she’s trying to kill me, that’s what’s up, and my uncle’s hired her."

Lyra just nods once, slow, like I’ve told her the weather forecast.

"Mmm, ok," she says. "As long as you know."

And that’s it, that’s the whole reaction. No horror, no alarm, not even "Matt we need to talk about this." Just acknowledgment and a nod, like assassination attempts are a normal problem she’ll get to after coffee.

Cherry’s head snaps up so fast her horn stumps nearly clip my snout. "Wait, what?" she says. "Kill you? Who’s trying to- is this about the puppy? Does the puppy want to kill you? Do we have to put her down?"

"Cherry."

"Because I can do it, I don’t want to, but if she’s dangerous, I have a responsibility-"

"Cherry, there’s no puppy," I say, as gently as I can manage while also trying not to laugh. "She was never a dog. She’s a person. A person with wings and a murder contract, probably. Don’t worry about it, I’ve got plans."

I don’t waste any more time talking. I just move, looping my forward coils under her knees and hooking my mid-body around her back. I lift her and carry her straight to the couch like she weighs nothing, which she basically doesn’t.

She lets out another squeak, this one softer, arms flying up around my neck on instinct. Cherry’s grip tightens on my neck, her mouth still half open, processing this at the speed of a dial-up connection.

"Plans," she repeats.

"Plans," I confirm, and then, because the moment’s gone soft again and I can’t help myself, I let my tail slide out from where it’s been coiled along my flank and drag the tip of it slowly along the back of her knee.

Cherry goes rigid, then squeaks, a full-volume, undignified squeak that echoes off the kitchen tiles, and she jumps about a foot sideways with her tail whipping up to smack against her own back like it’s trying to escape her body.

"M-Matt!"

"What?" I say, all innocence, tail already curling back in like nothing happened. "I didn’t do anything."

"You absolutely did something!"

Lyra, halfway out the door already, throws one look back over her shoulder, lips twitching like she’s fighting a smile and losing.

"Have fun with your plans," she says, and then she’s gone, boots clicking off down the hall, leaving me alone with a squealing succubus and a system that will not shut up about wanting front row seats.

"Matt, what are you?! Wait, put me down, I can walk, I’m not that-"

"Relax." I drop her onto the cushions, and she bounces once, hair falling messily over her face, horn stumps already twitching. "Just admiring my investment."

"Your what?"

I hover my mantle over her and start peeling that oversized coat off her shoulders with my tail, slowly working the zipper down while I talk, because apparently I’m incapable of shutting up during foreplay.

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