Chapter Text
Terzo leaned back, looking at the band playing with a strange mix of pride and grief.
They were young: sharp faces, bright eyes, nerves barely contained under their vests full of patches. They wore a bad quality corpse paint that had started to melt at the third song.
The stage was small but was their own, and the guitars were tuned almost right, but now, Terzo allowed himself to miss the weight of it.
These kids had no idea who he was. No idea that the old man sipping his drink in the corner had once stood on stages they could only dream about, wearing that same paint on his face.
For a moment, he considered not going at all. He had remained seated on the couch, with the pub flyer clasped in his hands and the same insecurity that had stopped him the first time he’d left the house weighing on him. He had tried turning on the TV to dissolve the silence, but switched it off again after a few minutes.
He reached for his boots, tugged them on, and straightened up. The only indulgence he allowed himself was a line of eyeliner around his eyes, both green after putting on his lens; when he reached the mirror by the entrance, he ruffled his hair with his hands, and a shot of adrenaline pushed him toward the door. He grabbed an old leather jacket, hesitated one last time with his hand on the handle, and then stepped outside, and once there, it felt like he already knew what step to do next: call a taxi, hand the driver the flayer and get down once arrived. Life seems surprisingly easy when you know what to do next.
The final band was a trio barely old enough to drink. The sound was raw, uneven, but there was something there. What struck him most was how serious they were about it, so young and already so committed to making it the best performance of their lives instead of just having fun.
Terzo tapped his fingers on the table; he had lost so much time and joy obsessing over the idea that his concerts had to be the biggest and best ever.
He exhaled softly through his nose.
He’d been there. And he’d lost it anyway.
He ordered another beer.
When the set ended, he applauded with the rest of the club. The band bowed awkwardly, and someone knocked over a mic stand. The others laughed, and that, finally, was a moment of honesty and release for all of them.
Terzo stood, draining the last of his glass. As he moved toward the door, one of the kids who had played nearly bumped into him, muttering an apology without looking up.
“Wait,” Terzo said, stopping him and patting his shoulder. “You were very cool.”
The kid froze for a second, then grinned and thanked him.
Outside, the night air was cool. Terzo headed toward the smoking area but nearly tripped over a small, metallic bump hidden by the gravel.
“The fuck is that?” he muttered, a cigar hanging from his lips.
The next thing he felt was someone bumping into him again, harder this time, from behind. He turned just in time to catch a girl almost falling into his arms.
“The fuck is that!” she exclaimed, a cigarette hanging between her fingers.
“I said the same thing.”
“That shit can kill you.” She slipped the cigarette between her lips, and as she rummaged through her purse for a lighter, Terzo was already there, offering the flame from his zippo.
“Thank you,” she said, looking at him through sharply lined eyes. By their wetness and the slow way she was talking, he could tell she was a little tipsy. “Did you watch the jam?”
“Oh yes,” he replied. “Interesting stuff.”
“One of the bands is my friends’.” She exhaled smoke slowly. “They’re good.”
Her eyes were naturally wide, but the bold makeup made her look almost cartoonish.
She wasn’t tall, her head barely reached his chin. Petite but nice-looking, with a small face framed by a breezy bob of unnaturally black hair. The ring in her nostril wasn’t a detail Terzo particularly appreciated, nor was she the type he usually went for, but it didn’t take away from her cuteness. With different clothes and makeup, she might have resembled a burlesque dancer, he even dared to think of a real-life Valentina, on a smaller scale.
Terzo had just enough time to ask, “Do you come here oft-” when, without fully realizing how it happened, probably following one of those unspoken rules drunk people seem to share, where the intrusive thoughts always win, he found himself pressed against the wall, her lips on his.
After the initial seconds of surprise, he gave in, tilting his head to meet her, savoring the taste of beer and cigarettes, though neither of them cared in the haze of intoxication. He slid his hands along her back, holding her close as the kiss deepened naturally, drawing a soft whine from her.
“Toilet?” she asked, her body snug against his, caught in his arms.
“Why not something warmer,” he suggested, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. “A comfortable bed… my house?”
Hooking up with random people had turned out to be easier than he’d expected.
The girl smiled. “Let’s go.”
*
Once opened the door, he searched for the switch, and when the lights came on, the girl was already standing in the middle of the living room, her bag abandoned on the floor behind her. She stared around in awe, as if she had just stepped into heaven.
“This place is fucking cool,” she said, still with her back to him.
Terzo raised an eyebrow. To him, it was still within the range of normal, but he was aware that not everyone was used to his standards.
“It’s a nice house,” he replied, trying to minimize.
“Are you rich?”
“Oh, I… not directly,” he said, shrugging and waving a hand vaguely, “I just happen to afford a place like this.”
The girl chuckled, examining a lamp that must have felt particularly expensive to her. “How does one happen to afford a place like this?” Her smile turned mischievous, eyes glinting, teasing him. “Are you a prince? Some sort of heir?”
He let out a short laugh and turned away before she could press further, heading for the kitchen instead. “Can I offer you some…” he started, opening the fridge and peering into its desolated interior, searching for something more interesting than water. He frowned. “…some water?”
He grabbed a bottle, and by the time he turned back toward the living room, she was already standing in her lingerie, her dress carelessly abandoned on the floor as well. That’s how Terzo discovered the large tattoo of a moth on her torso, its wings following the curves of her modest breasts, dark and yet delicate on her skin.
“Oh-hey… hello!” he stammered, trying to rest his elbow on the kitchen counter, but failing and slipping instead. “Feeling at home already.”
She walked toward him, nonchalant, as if she had done the same thing a million times before. She reached out, took his hand, and pressed it softly against her breast. “Aren’t you going to show me your room?”
Terzo set the bottle down on the counter, reinvigorated by the explicit invitation. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. “I was saving the best for last,” he said. “You seemed to enjoy the tour...”
Just as he was about to remove his shirt, he remembered that he wasn’t at the Ministry, and that she wasn’t a Sister of Sin who would appreciate whatever he was as a matter of duty.
What if he didn’t meet the girl’s expectations? What if she didn’t like how his body looked, how his aging skin felt against hers? As he hesitated, lost in his thousand thoughts, the girl anticipated him again, sliding her hands under the hem of his shirt. They lingered there, wandering just a little higher over the skin of his hips, while they shared another long kiss.
“You’re cold…” she murmured.
“Let’s warm up, then…”
He removed his shirt entirely, still a little self-conscious, but the girl didn’t seem to mind his skin or his shape. He knew Lucifer had blessed him and his family with prolonged youth, but it wasn’t eternal, and he had rarely approached someone who hadn’t already formed an idealized image of him that overlapped with the truth.
What the girl did seem to notice, instead, was the intricate net of black designs crossing his skin, from his arms to his shoulders to his chest, stopping just above his navel.
“Woah… this is fucking hardcore.” She traced those signs with admired, wide eyes, following the ink with a light touch of her fingers, “Who’s your tattooer?”
And Terzo just took advantage of her surprise, reaching to her ear to whisper “The Devil itself.”
He smirked, and she just squirmed excited. “You’re so wicked!” she laughed.
“You have no idea how much…” he delved on her neck again, holding her closer, but the girl spoke again.
“And the scar?”
Terzo was surprised by the question, he actually struggled to make the connection. He just kept forgetting he now got a deep scar circling his whole neck, “Oh, uhm… tracheitis.” he tried to make it sound believable “A very invasive operation.”
The girl nodded, even if slightly doubtful, then she just kissed him softly. “You have many scars…”
“And you watch and ask a bit too much…” he framed her face with his hands, looking at her in a way that she could only focus on his eyes, “Do you mind if I take a look at you too…? So we can change topic a bit…”
The girl smiled, never looking away from those mesmerizing eyes, while his hand wandered over her skin from her lower back, sliding around her waist, then up to her chest. She must have spotted something strange in his eyes, or one of them, as she tried to ask “How are your eyes-” but he pulled her even closer, pressing her chest against his so he could undo her bra - and so she would shut up for a moment - freeing her breasts.
“Curiosity killed the cat… didn’t anyone ever tell you?” he asked as he cupped one of them with his hand. He bent down to take the other small, pink nipple into his mouth. She stroked his hair while he teased her, cradling his face against her chest. He kissed the tattoo, the shape of the moth and its wings, following the curves where her breasts met her torso, making her breath tremble with anticipation. He moved lower, kissing a path down to her navel, where his tongue darted out to tease her skin.
The girl looked down at him, already squirming and clutching the nearest piece of furniture. He had just reached her panties when she stopped him.
“Wait, wait, I need to lie down…”
He stood up and, with a defiant smirk, lifted her into his arms. “Good news I’m a problem solver,” he declared, and the girl could only giggle and cling to him with her arms and legs.
He carried her in his bedroom, laying her on the bed, where he removed her panties, carefully and curious.
“So you’re not a standing sex kind of girl…”
The girl only nodded, and with the slightest disappointment he discovered what he felt with his fingers minutes earlier: she was completely shaved. Not too bad, she still had a nice, proportioned, soft pink pussy.
“You have such a nice pussy…” he said indeed, and the girl nodded and smirked. “Yeah everybody says it,” she replied, confident, and Terzo could only appreciate her spirit. He kissed her fiercely for that.
He couldn’t resist kissing her lower lips too, going down on her and sucking her clit between his lips, feeling the hold on his hair pulling him closer.
He rushed to remove his shoes and pants, and he would have taken off his boxer briefs too if she hadn’t stopped him.
“Leave them on. I’ll do it later…”
And who was he to refuse?
Boxers still on, he massaged her already wet sex, paying careful attention to her clit, drawing moans from her as he pressed with slow, circular motions, until a flicker of discomfort creased her eyebrows and her hand closed around his wrist, tight enough to send a brief jolt through him.
“Oh, wait,” she managed. “Too strong.”
“Oh, okay.” He immediately brushed his lips against her cheek in a soft apology. “I got carried away… Tell me how you like it, alright?”
And she showed him, reminding him how powerful and beautiful it was to be with a woman unafraid to ask for exactly what she wanted. She preferred light, quick movements of his fingertips on her clit, which finally drew gentle moans from her, her pleasure escaping in a shy voice.
“Soft. Don’t press,” she guided him. “Speed up a little, just here…”
He waited patiently for her expression to soften, for her eyebrows to lift and her mouth to fall open in silent sounds, or those high-pitched breaths she released after holding the air in her lungs for several long seconds.
A clit girl, he thought, quickly adding that information and trying to recall other names, other women with the same characteristics he had pleasured, to associate her to. He kept them all dearly in his memory, like a gallery to go visit every time he found someone with similar needs.
“Is it good?” Even though her writhing should have been enough of a confirmation, he longed to hear it from her. That wasn’t a question he asked often, but that sheer expectation for a verdict, that minimal possibility of not actually being that good was intriguing him.
She simply nodded, and he couldn’t help but press their lips together, catching those adorable moans while his fingers danced on her core the way he used to teach on stage with his silly jokes. As the tension slowly melted beneath his touch, he dared to press a little more firmly on that bundle of soft nerves, sending sparks through her entire body. Her voice grew stronger, echoing against the walls of the room.
“Voice… speak to me. What do you want?” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His lips brushed her skin as he began to move his hips against her leg, seeking whatever friction he could find through the fabric of his pants. “How do you want it?”
The veins on his hand stood out, running up his arm as he continued to work her responsive flesh.
“I want you to… never stop.” She breathed out, “Fuck me.”
He seemed to stop, or at least slow down his pace. “Do not rush it,” he suggested instead, sliding one, then soon two fingers into her.
She grabbed his nape, pulling him closer to her, ”kiss me,” and he did, slow and intense, then their forehead rested there, touching. “Faster…” she ordered, breaking that contact first, leaning her head back for a moment, and he caught the chance to venture on her neck again.
Terzo did something with his fingers that made her scream a honest and desperate “Fuck yes!”, and he savored every change of expression on her face until it was clear enough that she was ready for more.
The girl tilted her head back, sighing loudly. “Another one, please…” she begged, and Terzo merely raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his face. Finding girls so willingly devoted to carnal pleasure was always a happy circumstance.
He did as she asked, pressing inside her and stretching her wet heat with three fingers now. He watched her squint and arch beneath him, gripping the sheets with both hands or clutching his arm. He lowered himself again to her breasts, taking one into his mouth, then trailed a wet path of kisses from her chest down to her navel, while she let her fingers run through his hair, arching with anticipation.
“Do you have condoms?” She asked in a deep breath, “I’m gonna do no shit without a condom, I already aborted twice this year.”
Terzo raised both eyebrows, “Oh, yeah, sure… just let me…” and he leaned to the nightstand, searching in the drawer until he found one of the boxes he had bought. “Here. I also have birth control pil-” but the girl had just ripped it off his hand to open it. “Ok, cool,” he mumbled, just to moan shortly after when the girl started massaging his erection through his boxers.
When she pulled them down, she paused for a moment, and he had to look down at her to make sure it wasn’t out of disappointment. Quite the contrary, her face seemed… surprised? And very pleased. Thanks Lucifer.
“Now I get why you said not to rush it…” she only commented, and he could proudly smile only shortly before she enveloped his cock with both her hands and mouth, breathing deeply when she took him as much as she could in her mouth. “Yeah, cool…” he breathed out, stroking her head from time to time and relaxing to that sensation. It somehow felt more intense than he remembered, almost like it was the first time he felt it in a long time. Now he could really feel death and resurrection had done something to him.
Not a rockstar leader anymore, he wondered if he had just become a kind of fetish. Maybe he was now part of one of those categories on YouPorn like “old man and young girl”, “dilf”, or even - lord have mercy - “gilf”.
“You ok?”
He heard the girl's voice but he still was too distracted to grasp her words. “Mh?”
“You’re zooming out,” she looked at him with wide eyes and pouting lips, his cock in her hand, “Do you want me to do more…?”
“No, no, no need…” he rushed to reassure her, “I love it, you’re wonderful,” he let a hand slide from her hair to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb, “… please keep going.” he said, moving his hand to the back of her head “Keep going.”
She bobbed her head down on him a few more times before she trapped his cock into that latex glove.
“Now fuck me, please.” She begged again, easing herself on her back, spreading for him.
He didn’t make her repeat herself.
Hovering over her, watching her face tense the moment he filled her completely was as rewarding and pleasing as ever, but It was somehow very different from the sex he used to have with the siblings back at the Ministry. They were experienced and uninhibited to the point of intimidation, yet always kept a slight sense of reverence when dealing with him. He actually felt uneasy not knowing what to expect from the girl in his bed, but the sensation of being just a random toy in her hands was quite thrilling. It felt liberating to deal with the genuine attitude of someone who didn’t know who he really was, someone who didn’t overthink consequences or get overwhelmed by emotions.
He also found himself surprisingly stiff; maybe five years of rigor mortis had cooled his vigor. He refused to think so, and to spice things up he positioned himself behind her, lying on his side, and turned her body just enough to spoon her and take her from behind. The girl made it easy by lifting one leg slightly, which he promptly supported by grabbing it while thrusting. Their synchrony was good, at least. He grabbed her face and turned it toward his, sharing a long kiss while pleasure intensified into a powerful rush running through his entire body with each thrust.
He let one hand slide over her stomach and down to her clit. “Do you like it?” he asked, massaging her. “Let me hear how you like it.”
The girl nodded amid the gasps, her brows drawn together, her face contorted with pleasure. “Yes, fuck!” She reached back to grab his hair. “At least you know where the clit is…” and she squealed and laughed when he gave her a light slap on her pussy, in the heat of the moment - and because she had dared to think the clit king hadn’t come prepared.
A couple of positions later, he had already come, sooner than he remembered, but at least later than she had. They ended up leaning against the headboard, smoking a cigarette each after a solid fifteen minutes of rough sex.
“Well,” he said, “I think now that we’re done, we can move on to something a bit more basic, like… what’s your name?”
“Kat. And you?”
“Te…” He almost ruined his cover, but caught himself just in time. “o… dor.”
“…Theodor?” She took a long drag. “That’s one hell of a nobleman name.”
“And… what kind of music do you like?” he asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
“Uhm… post-punk, prog metal, techno rave… anything that makes you move.”
“Ever heard of… Ghost?” He knew it was a risky question, but her answer could at least tell him how dangerous it would be to expose himself around her.
Kat yawned. “Yeah, I know a couple of songs, but I never really got into them. They seem like goth for teenagers.”
Terzo didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. It was a good thing he was barely recognizable without corpse paint; the decision to never show himself without it, unlike Secondo, had paid off in the end. If she didn’t know Ghost that well, he felt even safer. Still, he couldn’t help feeling offended that she had dismissed Ghost as “goth for teenagers” after all he’d done to elevate the project.
She yawned again and slid under the sheets, stretching her arms out. “Can I sleep here?” she asked. “I’m a bit tired…”
“Of course. Where the hell would you go now?”
“Home?”
“Alone? This late? Oh no, you’re staying here.”
“You’re cute. You remind me of my father.” She smiled tiredly and slid further beneath the sheets, leaving only her head exposed.
Terzo’s eyes widened for a moment. Being compared to the father of a girl he’d just fucked wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped to hear.
“All right, goodnight then,” she added, turning her back to him and drifting off to sleep.
Terzo shrugged and shook his head lightly. How such magical creatures had ever been associated with evil was something he still couldn’t understand.
He wasn’t sure what to do, whether it would be inappropriate to hug her or if it was better to leave things as they were and sleep on his side of the bed. Usually, the women he spent time with craved his touch even after sex, wanting cuddles and contact so as not to waste a single second with him. Kat, however, seemed perfectly content just sleeping, so he just turned onto his side.
He was almost succumbing to sleep when she spoke again.
“Are you a musician?” she asked. She must have noticed the guitar in the corner.
He turned slightly to look at her, but she was still facing away. “Yeah… well, I used to be.”
“You gave up?”
Her voice was softer now, weaker, followed by another yawn.
“No…” he replied, considering his words. “But I had to.”
He waited, thinking she might continue, only to realize she had already fallen asleep.
No, he thought… I haven’t given up.
**
The doorbell rang, and that was the first time he ever heard it.
Terzo groaned and rolled onto his back, one arm flung across the side of the bed. The sound drilled straight into his skull. “Fuck,” he mumbled, confused.
Beside him, Kat stirred, blinking awake. The bell rang again.
Terzo dragged himself upright, ran a hand through his hair, and grabbed the first pair of joggers he could find. He didn’t bother with a shirt. He forced himself to shuffle downstairs and opened the door, squinting against the daylight.
“So you’re alive.”
“Autumn! Love of my life,” he said, forcing a smile. “You’re… here? This early?”
“It’s noon,” she replied drily, stepping inside and heading straight for the kitchen, carrying two full tote bags with her. “I brought food. Some pre-cooked and some fresh.”
“Ah, well, I’m actually a little hungry…” he confessed, following her.
“Your brothers are worried, they want to know how you are.”
“They could have called.” He blinked, scratching his belly.
“They did,” Autumn informed him, “And I did too. Ten times at least.”
“Oh… what time is it?” He asked, trying to check a watch he didn’t have on his wrist.
“It’s past 12 pm.” The woman informed him, while unpacking things on the counter, and she didn’t even hear the footsteps padding softly behind the man.
When she raised her gaze again, she froze.
Behind Terzo, a girl leaned casually against the banister, dark hair a mess and smudged makeup, one of his shirts slipping off a bare shoulder. She stared at Autumn with much lighter - sleepy - intensity.
“Are you his wife?” Kat asked finally. There was no hostility in her tone, just curiosity.
Autumn had to blink a few times before she could register her presence there and her question. “What? No!”
“His girlfriend?”
“No, we are just… collea-”
“Kay. Bye.”
The girl hopped lightly down the last step, grabbed her shoes, and slipped out the door without another glance.
Autumn didn’t move. Only her eyes snapped to Terzo.
“Girls are feral these days,” Terzo tried, underestimating the danger as he usually did.
“Terzo,” Autumn said slowly. “What was that?”
“What?”
“…Terzo.”
“Aaahhh, she was just… a friend. Passing by.”
“For fuck’s sake, Terzo.” She snapped, “This is a delicate operation. We’re all risking it, and you’re out here partying and bringing random girls to your secret location?” She crossed her arms. “What did you even do yesterday?”
“I… went to a gig, a jam session in that place where we had lunch. Had some fun. A few beers-”
She opened her arms, dramatic, “Here we go. All ruined.”
“Why are you so negative?”
“Who is that girl, anyway?”
“Lord, you’re merciless today.”
“I can’t leave you alone for one day without you throwing yourself into trouble.”
“That’s not trouble. She’s just a girl I met yesterday. Had some fun, a few beers-”
“What if she recognizes you?!”
“How would she?” He shrugged. “I’m dead, I could be whoever rich handsome youthful goth man in town who might accidentally resemble the hottest Papa Ghost ever had. And anyway, she’s not into Ghost, and I’m not going to see her ever again.”
Autumn didn’t reply. She turned back to the counter; she kept unpacking the food in silence, arranging it in the fridge, fuming but accepting the fact that she couldn’t win against his stubbornness and not ready at all to commit her first homicide.
He watched her for a moment, realizing only partially how mad she was. “Are you nervous?”
“Me?” She laughed sharply. “Why? Just because I called you ten times this morning and never got an answer? Because I got worried you’d fallen into the lake and drowned, since you can’t even fucking swim, and instead you were just enjoying yourself with some random girl from some random gig?”
He smiled, slow and knowing. “…So you’re jealous.”
“Your Unholiness.” Her voice dropped, tight and controlled, the way an angry spouse might use a husband’s full birth name. “Today is not the day to play with fire.”
“Oh, why do you never give me a chance?!”
“Because I’m literally paid not to.”
“See? That’s your problem.” He said, opening one of the beers she had brought, making her even more nervous, “You always take your job too seriously.”
She slid a folder across the counter. “These are the reports Alice and Gabriel put together. And this is a cookbook.” She paused, then added, “Call your brothers, they want to meet you. See you later.” And so, she left without another word.
“Are you going to tell my broth-“
“No, that’s your problem!” She shouted behind the closed door.
Terzo stood there for a moment, starting to feel a slight remorse for how the conversation had gone. Alone again, he wandered back upstairs, to his bedroom.
On the bedside table, he found a note waiting for him on the nightstand: a phone number, with a little sketch composed of two ^^ and a 3.
He couldn’t recognize it, but that represented a cat.
**
After the promised call, Terzo met his brothers for lunch in a small, reserved restaurant none of them had ever been before.
His brothers had decided it was safer to meet somewhere other than his residence, and in a place where they weren’t already known. No matter how safe it seemed to go somewhere trusted, they could never know who might be hiding in the places they usually frequented, or what rumors could start spreading.
All those precautions left Terzo with a lingering sense of unease.
“So,” Secondo finally said, leaning back. “How is it going?”
Terzo shrugged, twirling his fork lazily. “I’m alive. That’s already a success.”
“Do you need anything?” Primo asked. “Money, contacts, information?”
He shook his head. “I’m managing. My team is doing a good job testing the waters for my return.”
Primo and Secondo exchanged looks. “Copia is going on tour soon,” one of them said. “The Ministry will be almost empty for weeks.”
Terzo’s expression sharpened immediately.
“That’s your occasion,” the other brother continued. “Last tour, Sister Imperator accompanied him, and we have all the reasons to believe she will do it again. The place will be vulnerable and with fewer guards. We can organize safe access with the ghouls still loyal to you.” His voice dropped even more, leaning towards him, as if he feared someone could listen, "If you're going to act, that’s the moment.”
Terzo nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of those words, but struggling to fully commit, as if that possibility was still too far from him. “I see.” He only agreed.
Lunch ended shortly after as soon as all three finished their food. No additional conversation was allowed, they didn’t have much time away from the Ministry, but they promised to keep in touch to exchange information for the coup organization.
Later that afternoon, Terzo found himself wandering the aisles of a supermarket again; sunglasses perched on his nose and scarf up to his chin. He wasn’t even sure why he was there.
After the meeting with his brothers he just needed to feel normal for a while again, away from his old responsibilities and the pressure he felt on him.
And also he needed something to drink.
He had just reached for a bottle of sparkling water when a somehow familiar voice reached his ears.
“Theodor!”
At first he didn’t turn. He had just forgotten he had been Theodor a few nights before.
“Theodor, hi…”
“Oh-Kat?” he said, surprised despite himself when he saw the girl standing right next to him. She had an oversized hoodie and her hair styled in two pigtails, holding a couple of bags of crisps in her arms, which made her look even more straight out of a comic book. “How are you?”
“You didn’t find the note?” she asked, tilting her head. “The note with my number.”
“Oh. I… I fear not. Did you? I’m sorry.”
She hesitated only for a second before brightening again. “Well, we’re having a birthday party at my flat. My housemate’s birthday party. But you can come! You’re invited, now.”
She smiled widely, open and hopeful, and Terzo felt a sudden sting low in his stomach.
“I don’t think I can come, Kat,” he said carefully, trying to compensate with a weak smile. “I’m very busy.”
He watched her hopeful expression melt into a sad, disappointed look. She nodded, deep inside expecting that reply. “I understand,” she said softly. She let her bags of crisps drop to the floor, as if she had suddenly decided she didn’t need them anymore, and just walked away without a word.
The sting in Terzo’s stomach hurt even more. If there was one thing he despised, it was seeing joy disappear from a woman’s face, but there wasn’t much he could do. That situation would only put him, his collaborators, and Kat herself in danger...
He stared at the bags on the floor, and then at her back moving away.
“Kat!”
She turned just before disappearing behind the end of the aisle.
“When did you say the birthday is?”
“I didn’t say it,” she replied. “It’s this Friday.”
“Well,” he said, a crooked smile forming, already regretting what he was going to say, “guess what. I’m free this Friday.”
Her face lit up instantly, brighter than before, and the sting in Terzo’s stomach soon softened, and turned into something else… something warm, for once.