Chapter 114

Early evening had come, but it was still light out. Erabelle felt a little strange being outside while the sun was up for once. Even downtown, which turned into Sodom and Gomorrah after dark, still looked like a perfectly ordinary street.

Dezeb rested a wrist on the steering wheel and gave the street a casual sideways glance.

The grocery store was surprisingly crowded already. After months at the base, Erabelle was only now discovering that quite a few people there led fairly normal lives.

The base seemed to be divided into two broad groups: people who lived normally, and people immersed in a culture of excess.

She belonged to neither. She was among the tiny minority whose lives consisted entirely of overtime and all-nighters.

"At physical level two, I suppose you need to be careful what you eat, too. What do you like...?"

With her arms full of canned beer, chocolate-loaded cereal, and boxed instant meals, Erabelle met his eyes and froze.

"So this is what you like?"

He stared at her, then reached over and took half of it away.

Erabelle felt a little sad.

"Too much sugar is bad for your blood vessels. It affects your eyesight, too. Alcohol isn't good for you either; it impairs your body's ability to detoxify."

Instead, he bought a great deal of food that needed cooking. Erabelle looked at the green beans, steak, whole garlic bulbs, olive oil, and other ingredients in the cart, and pressed her lips together.

"..."

At the register, Dezeb stepped discreetly aside, leaving her to open her wallet.

"I don't have any money," ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) said the richest man in the universe, without a trace of shame.

Erabelle paid, looking a little awkward, then tried to stop him from picking up the large grocery bag.

"I can put it in Miro—"

"Miro? Oh, that Great Spirit."

Having asked, he carried the bag straight out to the car.

In truth, it was a relief. She didn't have to open Miro, and he wasn't doing particularly well at the moment.

Back at her quarters, Dezeb put the groceries away quickly. The sight was so painfully familiar that Erabelle pressed her lips together again.

"We should eat, shouldn't we?"

"I'll prepare something."

"I can't put someone who's just come home from work to work again. I was the one sitting around at home, so I'll do it. Besides, my lady paid for everything today."

Dezeb spoke as though he were some kept man living off her, then consulted the simple recipe on a sauce bottle and began making dinner. Even that looked too familiar. Erabelle couldn't bear it any longer.

"Th-then I'll go wash up for a moment."

She had reached her limit.

Erabelle went into the bathroom, shut the door firmly, and leaned against it. Tears had begun to gather in her eyes; at last they spilled down the bridge of her nose. She buried her face in both hands.

"Uh..."

Then the door suddenly opened, and she scrambled in alarm. Telling him he couldn't come in didn't even occur to her. She hurried away from the door, wiping at her tears in a fluster.

Dezeb watched her for a moment, then took her chin in one hand.

"Why are you crying?"

Tears fell onto his hand, too.

"Why? What do you hate so much?"

"I—I..."

"Hm?"

Erabelle hunched her shoulders, his face blurring further through her tears. Before she could collect herself, his hand pressed against her chin and his tongue drew hers into a deep kiss.

"Do you hate it that much?"

Erabelle pressed her lips together and shook her head in place of the words she couldn't get out.

"Then why do you keep crying?"

"I—I don't know..."

"..."

Dezeb looked down at her as she trembled for a long while, then swallowed a sigh.

This time, his lips touched hers more lightly. Once, twice... He pressed gentle, tender kisses to her mouth.

Erabelle steadied her breathing and looked up at him. Dezeb studied her for a moment before he spoke.

"Come out and eat."

Dezeb had left the bathroom door open when he went out, so Erabelle ended up bathing with it wide open.

Things had already been awkward. Now they were worse. Dezeb set a plate of steak in front of her as calmly as if nothing had happened.

"Tell me if it isn't enough."

"Th-thank you."

Embarrassed, Erabelle stammered out her thanks and hurriedly put a piece of meat in her mouth.

"Is it all right? I've never made it before."

Erabelle hesitated for a moment, but gave no sign of it. She nodded and concentrated on eating.

He sat beside her throughout the meal, doing nothing but watching her. She could feel her face growing hot.

"A-aren't you eating, Division Commander?"

"How long are you going to keep calling me that? I don't even go to work."

"But... you haven't retired, have you?"

"I don't remember ever taking the position."

"..."

Dezeb fell silent when he saw her eyes reddening again.

"...You really do cry easily."

"A sad thought suddenly came to mind."

"Oh, did it?"

After staring at her, he suddenly pressed his lips to hers. Erabelle, still in the middle of eating, went rigid.

"I..."

He licked the sauce from her lips, then caught her lip between his teeth. Erabelle kept flinching, plainly uncomfortable, and Dezeb smiled, his eyes narrowing.

"Tastes like meat."

Of course it did. She had been eating meat. Erabelle gave an awkward little smile in return, then flinched again when he leaned halfway across the table and opened his mouth with an expectant "Ah." This time, though, she knew what to do.

Erabelle fed one piece of meat to herself, then one to him, taking turns.

He had grilled so many pieces in the short time she'd been away that there was no danger of running out.

"Should I cook you some more?"

"I'm full now—"

"Or would you like a can of beer?"

"Yes, please."

Her immediate answer made him laugh.

"You really like beer, don't you?"

"Not particularly."

Erabelle lied without batting an eye.

"That answer came awfully fast."

Still smiling, he brought chilled beer and some pieces of cheese from the refrigerator. Erabelle brought over several bags of snacks.

Perhaps because she had finished her dinner, he said nothing about the snacks.

"What do you usually do with your time?"

Cans of beer, pieces of cheese, and bags of snacks now sat among the steak plates on the table.

"I watch dramas and movies. Things like that."

As they drank and ate, they talked about the cheese, the snacks, and whatever else came to mind.

Just like before.

"Hah, hah..."

Had a single can of beer been enough to get her drunk? By the time Erabelle came to her senses, she was lying on the bed, staring up at him in disbelief and panting.

"Ah..."

She had no time to think about how awkward things were.

Backlit by the room's lamp, Dezeb braced his weight on his knees as he took off his shirt and undid his belt.

The small bed creaked as though it might break.

Several condoms landed on it.

"You seemed to have such a hard time yesterday, so I bought these. Apparently they help regulate things between compatible partners."

Erabelle had no particularly fond memories of condoms.

"How do you put one on?"

Startled, she looked up at him again. Dezeb met her eyes with a perfectly innocent smile.

"It's all new to me, remember?"

She couldn't help looking doubtful, but he placed a condom in her hand with the air of a man entirely above suspicion.

This man who claimed it was all new to him had pushed his trousers down to his thighs and was holding his erect penis, stroking it.

"Hurry, please. It hurts with all the blood rushing there."

He was even pretending to be helpless.

Her face burning, Erabelle trembled as she brought the opening of the condom to its head. A slick fluid was leaking from the slit in the thick tip. Little by little, she rolled the thin, slippery rubber down.

Her hand brushed the one he had wrapped around himself. Before she could discreetly pull away, he caught it. Holding her hand with a little force, he pushed his hips forward.

Erabelle squeezed her eyes shut, unable to keep looking.

Lips touched her closed eyelids. She could feel him smiling. Since he didn't seem to be in quite the hurry he'd claimed, she cautiously opened her eyes and tried to look as pitiful as possible.

"W-well, it's already very late..."

"All right. I'll be quick."

"N-no, that's not what I meant..."

He pressed her inner thigh down with his own and slowly pushed his penis against the tight opening of her body. Unlike his relaxed, smiling face, his darkly flushed penis was hot. She couldn't pretend it wasn't happening.

Dezeb supported himself on both arms and spread his legs slightly. He withdrew a little, then pressed his hips down again.

The head pushed all the way inside her, his firm pelvis fitting tightly against the soft flesh between her legs.

"Ah...!"

Erabelle opened her mouth and moaned. When he pressed in to the base, her body clenched and curled in on itself.

Dezeb drew back a little, then thrust deeply into her again.

As she struggled and pushed against the sheets, she rubbed against him and slipped away slightly. He followed, driving deeper into her.

Erabelle could hardly breathe. To give her a little time, he moved in shallow strokes, cupping her soft breast and lightly rubbing its peak with his fingertips. Her inner walls twitched.

Dezeb let out a low breath.

Her face scarlet, Erabelle hunched her shoulders and gripped the sheets, holding on.

Supporting himself on one arm, he kneaded her breast and continued his shallow strokes.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of her rounded belly as he moved in small motions, drawing from her a slow, deep orgasm that was different from the forceful kind—and lasted just as much longer.