Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Kalos steps into the tub and tries to fold himself in and fails miserably. His legs are too long, and the rest of him is a good deal bigger than I am.
“Just do what you can,” I advise him, trying not to blush.
He eventually squats in the tub on his haunches, the expression he shoots my way baleful. It allows him to get into the water up to a certain point, but his junk hangs between his thighs and dips against the surface when he moves.
Teabagging. I swear I’m not going to laugh. I swear I’m not. But at least I’m no longer marveling at how attractive his dick is.
He hugs his knees and glares up at me. “How long will this take?”
“Let’s wash your hair first, all right? It’s the most noticeable.” I gently pour warm water over his long hair and brown mud streams down his back. Hints of the silvery mass show through, but it definitely needs cleaning. “Just hold still and I’ll soap it up for you.”
Kalos remains quiet as I gather up his long, thick hair in my hands. It isn’t as tangled as my own and seems a lot more like silk. There’s also a ton of it. It’s surprisingly dense and feels heavy as I work it into a lather.
“You’ll feel better clean,” I tell him to break the silence in the room. I don’t like it when things are too quiet. Maybe I just don’t like to be left alone with my thoughts.
“I know I don’t seem appreciative, but I am. This feels impossible to do on my own.”
Remorse hits me. Whoever or whatever Kalos is, he’s saddled with Apathy. It’s no different than being depressed back home. Actually, it’s better back home because we have therapy and medication. Kalos has…me. I pat his shoulder. “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”
“One of us won’t.”
I go silent, because he’s right. In order for him to ascend back to the heavens, I have to die. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and think of David. David, who’s getting cured from his cancer because Lachesis promised. David, who is going to get everything he wants out of life. What was I doing, anyhow? Dog walking and making coffees? I didn’t even finish college. If one of us has to live, it should be David. Still stings, though. Softly, I say, “I hope that’s a long time coming.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” Kalos admits, staring straight ahead as I work my sudsy fingers through a muddy knot. “I loathe the mortal plane. Loathe my weakness. Loathe that I must go through this farce of an Anticipation yet again.”
“But…?” I prompt.
“But I do not like the thought of you suffering for my benefit. You have been patient. And kind. And I am grateful.” He says the words grudgingly. “And I will miss the goat.”
My lips twitch. “I like how every time you give me the tiniest fraction of a compliment, you point out how much you like the goat. I think you like him more than me.”
“There’s no need to be jealous of a goat. He wouldn’t wash my hair for me, would he?” He turns his head and gazes up at me askance. “He wouldn’t try to read the map. Though you’re about as good with it as he is.”
“I’m going to ignore that and focus on your compliments,” I say cheerfully and rub his scalp, dragging my nails lightly along his head to get the worst of the grit free.
He tenses and sucks in a breath.
I go still. “Bad? Should I stop?”
“No. Do it again.” His voice is low. “I liked it.”
And he’s not good at realizing that he likes things. I wonder about him. What’s he like when he’s the Voltron version of himself, all recombined with all the other facets of his existence? Is he like this but just more? Or is he completely different? I massage his scalp and think about his penis again. “Just so you know, this isn’t sexual.”
“I didn’t say it was.” His tone is accusing. “I wouldn’t fuck my Anchor. That’d be like…fucking my backpack. You exist to provide a service, nothing more.”
“Wow. Just…wow.” I lift my hands free. “You know what? You can finish washing yourself. I’m good here.”
Before I can back away, he grabs my wet, soapy hand and glares up at me. “No. You continue.”
“Or what?” I bristle.
“Or I’ll give you a pox.”
Of all the…I forget all about being cheerful and point a finger at his face. “You’re a fucking dick and that’s not the way to get what you want.”
He bares his teeth at me. “You don’t like it when I’m truthful?”
“I don’t like it when you’re hurtful,” I retort, getting in his face. “There’s no need to be an asshole. We’re in this together, remember? I don’t have a way home. I gave up everything to be here…”