LYRA “What the fuck, Zane?” I’m surprised my voice comes out as strong as it does, even as the rest of my body is totally spent. "What?" His voice is husky, and his sweaty forehead rests on my shoulder. Goddess it feels good to have him lean on me like this, needing to be so close to me. No, Ly. Come on. I need answers first. “What happened to 'no face to face'?" His head snaps back and he sighs. His face contorts into an emotion I don't recognise, but he doesn't answer. "What happened to not trusting the pill, Zane?" Again, I get no answer. Even as he slowly pulls out of me, and sets me down. In the same stupid chair I sat on the first day I got here, he’s quiet. Back then, I sat here and he barely looked at me. Now, I sit here, completely ruined by him, and he doesn’t even look back. Zane wipes the sweat from his abs, and starts picking up clothes. He pulls up his pants, and buckles his belt like he’s getting dressed in the morning before work. Definitely not like so
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