Page 49 of The Fall

“Count down,” she demanded.

“What?” Lusa couldn’t fathom what she meant by that, but Kerr’s eyes left no room for interpretation.

“From ten.”

“Ten.” Lusa still didn’t know where this was going, but Kerr had shoved her out of the driver’s seat and was gleefully steering them off a cliff.

Kerr pulled her fingers deeper, accompanied by the heaviest breath Lusa had ever heard.

“Nine?” Lusa guessed, thrusting in again a bit quicker.

“Don’t change anything.” The words tumbled urgently from Kerr’s small mouth. “Just count.”

Lusa nodded, bracing her forehead against Kerr’s.

At five, Lusa had shed her apprehension at the strange request. At four, her ears hurt at the sound of Kerr’s praise. By three, her song had become a constant note. At two, the flutter and at one, the flood.

Kerr came apart in her arms and Lusa held the pyroclasm, fully aware that if she let this continue, it would burn her walls to ash. Whatever this was would be a transforming flame. Kerr could embrace what she had created, or suffer the abhorrent consequences – assuming she knew what she’d created at all.

Be Wary Then, Best Safety Lies in Fear

We can’t do that again.” Not because she didn’t want to do that again. She very much did. But the moment had passed and the impossibility of them became clearer than ever.

Then again, Pinga fucked whoever she felt like. No-one would judge her but herself. No-one would even know. Why shouldn’t she have a fling for a couple of days while dealing with Pinga’s bullshit? Relax and put herself first, for once?

Because Pinga doing what she wants is why you’re here in the first place.

Lusa knew that should be sufficient, but it wasn’t the real reason. The real reason was because she would want more. More than Kerr was offering. More than Kerr could offer. If she even was offering. This was probably just a quick fuck for her and she would likely come to the same conclusions herself. Best to leave it at that.

Rifling through a rack of antique tops that could only be described as fetish wear, Lusa found a neon pink XXXL crop top with the words Femme Daddy in bold white lettering emblazoned on the front. Kerr was short enough that it could work. The balled-up polyester sailed through the air. Kerr caught it. “It’s from before BulitWeave, but at least you won’t be walking around topless.” Lusa couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at the idea.

Kerr’s lips parted like she wanted to say something. Shocked, perhaps at Lusa’s sudden change in demeanour, but this couldn’t work. And Lusa didn’t think she could handle the devastation if she deluded herself into thinking it could.

“You hate me, remember?” Lusa knew Kerr had recently walked back on that, but she had been drinking, so it didn’t count.

“And you hate me.” Kerr wriggled into the oversized top that had an inexplicably small neck hole. Lusa permitted herself a singular moment of lechery while Kerr couldn’t see her staring. It had been too dark in the closet to see properly. Somehow her breasts were even paler than the rest of her and Lusa didn’t know that you could have freckles on your nipples. She regretted not tasting them when she’d had the chance.

Lusa diverted her eyes before she changed her mind. Her head popping through the other side, Kerr pulled the top over the rest of her torso. It did not fit well at all. Far too loose in the waist and strangely tight at the neck. No wonder it was still here after all these years.

Attempting to put her hair back into place, the dry air fought against her. Dyed black strands stuck straight up and waved like an anemone in the invisible currents.

Lusa tried to ignore it but her overwhelming compulsion to fix everyone else’s problems won out like it always did. She found a bottle of ancient lotion in the employee lav.

Kerr eyed it suspiciously. “What do you want me to do with that?”

“Don’t you live here? What do you normally do when your hair gets staticky?” Lusa offered the bottle again.

“That’s hand lotion. It doesn’t go on your head.” Kerr said flatly.

Removing the cap, Lusa shook the bottle until a smear of stale oil from some long extinct plant made it to her palm. She wondered if basic hair maintenance was a foreign concept to all of Tyton or just Kerr. “You don’t need much.” She rubbed the tiny dollop into her hands. “Come here.”

Kerr approached cautiously. Lusa felt bad at shutting her out so quickly when it was so obvious that Kerr was hoping this could go somewhere. But nothing beyond just sex could happen. And Lusa couldn’t do just sex again. Not with someone like Kerr.

Running fingers through her hair, Lusa stopped breathing. It was too intimate for two people who hated each other. Moreso than fucking in a closet, even. That could be explained by hormones. You didn’t fix the hair of someone you hated.

Lusa pushed the thought out of her mind. It wasn’t feelings. It was just her need to fix things. A need that kept getting her involved in things she shouldn’t. Like killing Piston and rescuing Pinga. Perhaps she should stop thinking of being helpful as a virtue.

“Thanks,” Kerr said a little too softly with eyes that were a little too wide and irises a little too beautifully blue.