𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

Without further adieu, here is the new chapter...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DEVI BHATT

"I'm a psychologist, not a fucking somnologist," says Kai, on the massive screen we have right now.

"Well, dreams are still part of the brain and you study the brain, so you should know. You should complain," Feliks says, teasing Kai.

"What's a somnologist?" Sashan chirps, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Someone who studies dreams," Pasha responds as he comes into view on the screen, next to Kai.

Sasha beams, waving to him. She must miss him, since he's only her blood related family.

"Personally," Kai says, "I'm glad I wasn't there for Devi's demonic zombie episode."

My jaw unhinged. "You foul little rat," I mockingly point a finger at him. "I for one couldn't care less."

"Your reaction states otherwise," Kai snarls.

"Aren't you Japanese? Why are you happy to not be returning to your hometown for a visit?" Chanthira asks, having a sleeping Khami resting in her lap as she strokes her hair motherly. Emily sits wedged between her mother and one and only inappropriate crush, Demyan.

Demyan has his arm behind Sasha's back, resting his hand on the curve of her waist, gently pressing her against his side. I don't think Pasha knows, since his expression is a flicker of a frown, before he types something on his phone. Sasha's phone pings, and if her face was redder from Demyan's open affection, it's on fire now.

"I'm good," he brushes off. "The new recruits are doing okay, some are a little soft but we'll toughen them up in no time. We put them through mental and physical endurance training yesterday, so they're taking a day for some training before going back to it. Pasha's so rough with them, it's hard not to laugh, somehow I need to beat him."

I frown. "Mental and physical endurance? Something tells me that's not a pop quiz and an obstacle course."

Feliks laugh loudly. "It's torture. But it's fake, we designed this technological device where it can stimulate any painful experience without actually carrying out the act and causing the physical damage."

"You guys designed it?" I snort. "I'm pretty sure they already have it."

"I don't think those can make you feel like your abdominal organs are being ripped out, or being shot in the head, darling," Feliks grins, leaning back, putting his hands behind his head. "But it's being updated by yours truly," he gestures to himself proudly before continuing, "to be visually stimulating too."

"Oh," I go silent. "That's rough. I'm glad I didn't have to go through that, thanks big guy."

I slap Grisha's back next to me jokingly, moving my hand up ruffling up his hair.

"No problem," he says quietly, a smile peeking through his side profile.

I feel him chuckle, his hand covering mine and moving it around the back of his neck, loosely intertwining our fingers.

Loosely– he's giving me two options– I could easily withdraw my hand, to show him I'm annoyed still. Or I could let it happen, show him I'm okay but not great with him, then let it unravel from there.

I leave my hands there, feeling his thumb lightly rub circles around the top of my hand. My stomach flips as I try to keep my expression normal. With each week I feel my walls of morality just crumble, and it's not good. It's not good I like it.