Chapter 96 – Heat

Noxx could not sleep.

She was hot.

Very hot.

The sheets weighed on her legs as if they were made of something much denser than cloth, and the black pajama top she had thrown on was too big for her but it was also too warm, and the back of her neck was already damp.

'…It wasn't like this before.'

In the mental house, sleeping was simply deciding to sleep. There was no temperature. There was no sweat. There was no sheet with weight to it. You closed your eyes and that was it.

Not here.

Here the heat was a thing that existed and that stuck to her body and that did not go away just because she wanted it to.

Noxx clenched her teeth. And very slowly, millimeter by millimeter, she started working the sheet off.

Right foot first. Then the left. Then the leg. Then the hip, lifting it two centimeters off the mattress so the fabric could pass without dragging.

It took her almost a full minute.

When she finished, she was completely uncovered, face up, arms at her sides.

Relief.

Immediate relief.

'…Ah. Much better.'

Noxx closed her eyes.

Forty seconds later, she started to feel cold.

Noxx opened her eyes.

The window was open. Somebody had left it open, or it had always been open, and the night air of the castle was coming in through it, which at this time of year was considerably colder than Noxx had assumed.

It started at her ankles. Then her arms. Then her back.

Noxx pressed her lips together.

'…No.'

And very slowly, millimeter by millimeter, she started covering herself again.

She reached for the edge of the sheet. Lifted it with two fingers so it would not make noise. Brought it up in stages, stopping every time the fabric brushed against the mattress.

It took another minute.

When she finished, she was covered up to the chest, still, eyes closed.

'Good. Now.'

Noxx turned her face to one side to settle in better.

And the pillow was warm.

Noxx opened her eyes.

'…'

'When? When did it get warm? It was cold a second ago.'

Noxx put her cheek back down to check.

Warm.

Very warm.

Unbearably warm in the exact spot where her face had been resting for the last five minutes.

Noxx lifted her head.

She slid both hands under the pillow and turned it. Slowly. With extreme care. Raising it just enough that it would not brush against anything, turning it in the air, lowering it without a sound.

She put her cheek down.

Cold.

Noxx let the air out.

"…Are you having a lot of trouble sleeping?"

Noxx froze.

On the other side of the bed, Matt was awake. He had not moved, his back was still turned, but his voice had the clarity of someone who has been listening to fabric noises for a while.

"No," Noxx answered.

"You've been moving around for fifteen minutes."

"No."

"You flipped the pillow."

"No."

"I heard you flip the pillow, Noxx."

"…"

Matt sighed and rolled onto his back.

"Connect to the mental house."

Noxx blinked.

"What?"

"Close your eyes and go into your mental house. You sleep better in there. You ignore the body's complaints and you rest anyway."

"…Ah."

"It's what I used to do when the body was unbearable."

Noxx nodded.

"Understood."

And she lay back down, face up, hands on her stomach, eyes closed.

'Mental house.'

Nothing.

'Mental house.'

Nothing.

Noxx frowned.

She shut her eyes harder and concentrated the way she had always concentrated. She looked for that sensation of falling inward, that sort of sidestep where you stopped being in one place and appeared in the other with nothing in between.

It wasn't there.

There was no step.

There was only the darkness behind her own eyelids and the weight of the sheet and the sound of the wind in the open window.

'…Why?'

'Moon.'

"Yes, mistress?"

'Why am I not in there?'

"…In where?"

'In the mental house.'

"Right now?"

'Right now.'

Silence.

"…Mistress, I don't really understand the question."

'I'm trying to go in. I can't.'

"Go in where?"

'Into the mental house, Moon.'

"…"

Sun stepped in calmly.

"Mistress, were you able to do that before?"

'Before I closed my eyes and I was already inside. No effort. I never had to try.'

"…"

"We can't explain that one," Sun admitted.

"I can't either!" Moon added, delighted to be participating even though she knew nothing.

'You two are extremely useful weapons.'

"Thank you!"

"That wasn't a compliment, Moon."

"Oh!"

Noxx shut her eyes harder.

Beside her, Matt turned his head and looked at her.

Noxx's face was screwed up, her brow furrowed, her jaw tight and her whole body rigid as a plank under the sheet.

Matt sighed.

"You need to relax."

"I am relaxed."

"You're so tense your shoulder is vibrating."

"I am perfectly relaxed."

"Noxx."

"…"

"Your body has existed for twelve hours. It isn't used to anything. Not the air, not the weight, not the noise, not the temperature. It's on alert all the time because it doesn't know what's dangerous and what isn't."

"I can control it."

"No, you can't."

"Yes I can."

"As long as your body and your senses are on alert, they aren't going to let you in."

Noxx opened her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because in the mental house you're vulnerable," Matt answered. "Your body is left alone. It doesn't react. It doesn't defend itself. And something inside you knows that, so it isn't going to open the door for you while you feel exposed."

Noxx thought about it. Then she said:

"Then you put me in."

Matt looked at her.

"…I can't."

"You could before."

"Before, we shared a body, Noxx."

"…"

"Not anymore."

Noxx went quiet.

It hit her harder than she expected.

It was not new information. She knew it. She had spent the whole day running into it, with the thoughts that never arrived, with the buttons on the dress, with the offer to take control that she had not been able to finish saying.

But it kept coming back.

Over and over.

In smaller and smaller things.

"…You used to put me in?" Noxx asked.

"Yes."

"Always?"

"Almost always."

"Every time I slept in there?"

"Yes."

Noxx turned her head toward him.

"Why did you never tell me?"

Matt shrugged against the pillow.

"You never asked."

Noxx looked back up at the ceiling.

'…Ah.'

She felt something drop from her chest down into her stomach and settle there, heavy.

All that time. All those times. And she had believed it was something she did on her own.

Noxx said nothing.

Matt sighed. Then the sheet moved.

And Noxx felt an arm slide under her neck and another around her waist, and all at once she had Matt pressed against her back, his forehead resting on the nape of her neck and both arms closed around her.

Noxx went as rigid as a metal bar.

"W-What are you doing?!"

"Trying to calm your body down."

"You're doing exactly the opposite!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"Physical contact lowers the heart rate. It's a basic mechanism. It works in every warm-blooded species."

"I'm not warm-blooded!"

"It's a figure of speech. Close your eyes."

"I can't close my eyes like this!"

"Yes you can."

"No!"

Noxx tried to push him off. She shoved his arm with both hands, pulled forward, twisted.

Matt held her tighter.

And Noxx went still all at once, because now she had all of Matt's chest against her back, and Matt's legs against hers, and Matt's breathing on the back of her neck, and Matt's smell, which was the same smell Noxx had carried for months because it was the same body, but which from the outside was a completely different thing.

Noxx's face went burning hot.

"…Like this I definitely am not getting in," Noxx said, her voice higher than she would have liked.

"Yes you are."

"No."

"I'll protect you while you sleep."

"…"

"If something happens, I react. You don't have to be on alert."

Noxx clenched her teeth.

"You don't have to treat me like an idiot who can't defend herself."

"I'm not treating you like an idiot."

"Yes you are."

"You're so tense you can't even turn a pillow without planning it out."

"…"

"Breathe in."

"Matt."

"Breathe in and let it out slowly."

Noxx was going to answer.

She was going to answer something very dignified and very cutting.

But she obeyed.

She breathed in. Held it. Let it out slowly.

Again.

Again.

And for two or three breaths, it worked. Her chest loosened. Her shoulders came down. Her body started to let go.

And then she thought about where she was.

She thought about the fact that she had Matt pressed against her back.

She thought about the fact that less than an hour ago she had told him, out loud, that she wanted to kiss him.

She thought about the fact that he had said no.

And that now he was holding her anyway.

All the embarrassment came back at once.

"…That's enough," Noxx said.

Nothing.

"That's enough. You don't have to keep doing this."

Nothing.

"Matt."

Nothing.

Noxx frowned.

"…Matt."

She listened.

Matt's breathing against the back of her neck was slow. Long. Even. With that unmistakable rhythm that cannot be faked.

He had fallen asleep.

He had fallen asleep holding her.

Noxx felt the heat come back, and this time it was not the sheets.

"…Don't fake it."

Nothing.

"I know you're faking it."

The breathing stayed exactly the same.

Noxx lay there for a while, trapped between Matt's two arms, listening to him breathe against her neck, her face burning and no possibility whatsoever of falling asleep.

Then she clenched her teeth.

'…Fine. If you won't let go of me… I'm going to teach you a lesson.'

Noxx gathered momentum and rolled.

Her whole body. All at once. Rolling backward over Matt, crushing him into the mattress with all her weight, until she was lying face up on top of him with Matt's face buried against her back.

Matt made a short noise through his nose.

And did not let go.

Noxx opened her eyes.

'…Seriously?'

Matt's arms were still closed around her exactly as before, from underneath now, without loosening in the slightest despite having her on top of him.

Noxx frowned.

"If you don't let go of me," Noxx muttered, "I'm staying like this."

Nothing.

"On top of you."

Nothing.

"…All night," she added, her voice dropping in volume toward the end for reasons she did not care to examine.

The grip did not loosen.

Noxx pressed her lips together.

Then she reached out an arm, took hold of the sheet and pulled it up.

She pulled it up over the two of them, arranging it carefully until Matt was covered completely, head to feet, sealing the edges against the mattress.

She left her own head outside, and breathed clean air.

Noxx had just remembered something.

Something from the cave. From those horrible months when Matt slept and she was left in charge of the physical body and had to handle all the unpleasant functions that body performed without anyone's permission.

There were several.

Many of them were humiliating.

But there was one in particular that the first time had left her paralyzed for almost a full minute trying to understand what had just happened, and that afterward had turned out to be something that happened all the time.

Passing gas.

Simple. Ridiculous. Absolutely humiliating because of the smell it left behind.

And at this specific moment, the only way to attack Matt without hurting him.

Noxx felt her face burning.

'…It's humiliating. It's very humiliating… but he brought this on himself.'

Besides, she had been holding it in out of embarrassment for a good while already.

Noxx closed her eyes.

She concentrated, and a few seconds later...

PFFFT!

That sound, and that smell...

◇◆◇

In the mental house, the sky was blue and cloudless.

Aurora was walking down the second-floor hallway in a black and white maid dress, carrying a tray with a cup, a small teapot and a plate with three cookies she had invented herself an hour ago.

She was humming.

A cheerful melody with no words that had occurred to her while she was going through memory files and that she had now been humming for forty minutes straight.

She was in an excellent mood.

Everything was in order. The master was resting. The house was clean. The memories were sorted by date, and she had tea.

Aurora turned the corner toward the living room.

And the smell arrived.

Aurora stopped dead.

The tray went out of her hands.

CRASH!

The cup shattered against the floor. The teapot rolled. The three cookies shot off in three different directions.

Aurora covered her face with both hands.

"WHAT IS THAT?!"

With one hand still over her nose, Aurora opened a hologram in the air with a quick gesture.

The screen unfolded, showing the view outside, from the eyes of Matt's physical body.

Nothing was visible.

Only fabric.

A white wall of bedsheet, very close, and above that a dark mass that after a second Aurora identified as a back.

A back that was not the master's.

Aurora narrowed her eyes.

Then opened them all the way.

"…IT'S HER!"

Aurora spun toward the living room.

"IT'S HER! MASTER! IT'S THAT PIG!"

From the big couch in the middle of the room, half reclined, one arm over the back of it and an expression of absolute calm on his face, Matt barely looked up.

"Don't be dramatic."

"DRAMATIC?!"

"It's a fart."

"IT'S A CHEMICAL WEAPON!"

"Aurora."

"Master, that woman just attacked this house!"

Aurora ran across the room, threw herself onto the couch next to Matt and burrowed under his arm until she was completely wrapped up in it, her face pressed to his side and her eyes squeezed shut.

"Master!"

"What?"

Aurora lifted her head.

"Can we kill her?"

Matt put a hand on her head.

"No."