Hurt and Heal (Arknights)

Chapter 22: A girl named Ifrit

A/N: I just realized that I had put this book in mature, so I can write with as much libido as I want MWAHAHAHHAHA

2 days after the battle of Lungmen.

A certain sarkaz was lying in her bed in the middle of the night. Her clothes discarded next to her bed amidst the explosives and other mercenary tools she left in a mess in her room. A simple white t-shirt and way too big on her as a nightgown. The background noise of the television didn't usually prevent her from sleeping... And yet on this night she couldn't get to sleep. She was squirming in her bed with a heavy breath escaping from her lips.

Her mind was foggy, and her skin had become so sensitive that she felt like she was going to burn. W was half hallucinating, alone in her bed. She got on her back, and one of her hands that was on her stomach instinctively went to her lower parts. Her fingers began to dance across her own skin at the most sensitive places on her body. Of course she was awake enough to know what was happening to her.

Her season had arrived... And slightly early.

Something she had lost the habit of enduring.

Three quarters of her seasons had come without her having any partners that were even remotely interesting to her, so these were just another day for her while the other sarkaz were getting drunk on sexual appetite. Even if some of her seasons she had spent with someone else...

The one person she had never loved on this planet.

Something she always remembered but would never admit to.

She could still remember that night, when her first season had struck when she had just taken orders from her queen. She had walked halfway across the base to her queen's room, half-naked in the middle of the night, dodging every person in the hallways, only to knock on her door.

She could still remember the feeling of her skin against hers. Of the joy she had felt when the great queen of the sarkaz Theresa had accepted a simple mercenary as her lover...

W could still see her face at times, on those nights full of passion.

That was what the mercenary did not understand.

Since her death three years ago never her seasons had struck her. Even when she was with the reunion at the beginning of the winter, her season had not declared themselves. And yet here she was, in bed at three in the morning writhing from an insatiable hunger that coursed through her body.

She needed someone there with her right away.

And through the haze of her mind she could picture someone by her side, to keep her company through her season. She saw a man with her... Tall, muscular... Some scars present on his skin. But through her hallucinations brought on by desire she couldn't quite grasp who the man she was dreaming of might be. But she wanted to. More than her reason, her bestial instincts had taken control of her mind and she could not think of anything else.

And while her appetite was growing and her fingers were moving at a more and more frantic pace, she was finally able to put a face on the body of the man she wanted.

And of course this face.

It was that of Sebastian.

At the moment when she perceived this face in her hallucinations, W froze and was completely awake. Then she was seized with an immense anger towards herself after the initial phase of shock. Why was she dreaming about this asshole she hated so much? Why was he activating her season when she didn't like him?

It disgusted her.

Her reproductive instincts made her attracted to that man even though her mind hated him.