Once inside, Ren settled onto a couch in Kestrel’s living room.
It was his second visit. Right now, the other residents seed to be away, and the only sounds were the gentle chirping of insects from the garden outside.
He could see signs of daily life everywhere: shoes and umbrellas near the door, snacks on the coffee table, a couple of half-read books piled up, and fresh roses from the garden in a vase, filling the room with a soft fragrance.
All of this made the place feel like a real, lived-in ho. Being here, it felt like he could montarily forget about the harsh world outside and all the difficult adventures waiting ahead. For this brief mont, it was just about comfort.
While Ren knew that their circumstances hadn’t changed and they were preparing for a daunting mission to the Eyehole — a mission not just on the borders of the Polluted Zone but deep within its darkest parts — he also understood how risky it was. In such places, no matter how powerful soone were, danger lurked at every corner. The guarantee of coming back safely was slim. And that made this current peaceful mont all the more valuable.
But Ren wouldn’t try to stop Kestrel from getting there. He got it. Just like him, she had her own reasons, her own must-dos. And honestly, he was glad to be with her, facing the dangers of the Polluted Zone together. That companionship itself felt special.
Kestrel slid next to him on the couch, gently placing her hand over his eyes. Just before everything went dark, Ren caught a glimpse of her lips curving into a soft smile.
Suddenly, the worries and strains of their upcoming journey felt distant. Overwheld with a wave of tiredness, the surroundings made Ren feel so secure. The toughness and control he was so proud of seed to lt away in the coziness of this space, especially under the gentle touch of Kestrel’s hand.
It felt like he was drifting, slowly sinking into deep waters, but without any fear, knowing he’d eventually find a comforting spot.
Sounds of underwater currents filled his ears.
A familiar silhouette swam into this underwater realm, entering his space.
Ren tried hard to stay alert, not wanting to nod off in Kestrel’s presence like the last ti. However, a voice whispered, "It’s alright. Just rest."
And as his consciousness dimd, it felt as though sothing was patching up the cracks in his heart, offering unparalleled solace.
It hit Ren then — with Kestrel close, he could truly find restful sleep.
...
Ren found himself slowly waking up on a large, comfy couch. The night was so quiet that he couldn’t even guess what ti it was. Only the soft glow of dimd lights filled the room, and he noticed a warm blanket had been placed over him.
Honestly, he couldn’t rember the last ti he had such a peaceful sleep. But as he regained his senses, a familiar aroma hinted at the presence of soone he knew.
Looking around, he spotted Kestrel. She hadn’t left him alone. Instead, she was sitting on a nearby armchair, absorbed in a real book, its pages illuminated by a reading lamp.
She seed entirely at ease, sitting back with her legs crossed and leaning into the chair’s side. One hand rested under her chin while her focused eyes darted over the words. Her tendrils seed to have their own mind, flipping the pages for her, and the soft rustle of paper echoed in the quiet room.
Her other hand was gently brushing the back of a small orca toy next to her. A strange sensation hit Ren as he watched. His heart felt tight, and he had to fight to breathe normally.
Trying to control his breath and not let Kestrel know he was awake, Ren realized sothing. During his deep rest after the grooming, his psychic representation had materialized.
And now, this little version of his psychic incarnation was there, almost like a plush toy, curling up with Kestrel.
As she continued to softly pet the mini orca, Ren recalled sothing crucial. Alphas and betas, like him, could feel everything their psychic incarnations experienced.
Kestrel’s own psychic incarnation had many exploring tendrils, so she probably missed out on these finer sensations. She might not even be aware that it wasn’t just painful experiences that get transferred but also small touches and strokes.
As she read, she’d occasionally use her tendril to turn a page, all while her hand brushed the orca’s back. Each touch, even the subtle scratch of a fingernail, resonated with Ren, giving him tingles.
Her fingers moved to the orca’s head, giving it a comforting rub. Ren could feel it as if she was actually running her fingers through his hair, providing gentle reassurance.
His eyes shut tighter, debating whether to let her know he was conscious.
Then her touch shifted again, going further down the orca’s back.
Ren’s body tightened instinctively.
When she playfully grasped the orca’s tail, Ren had to bite back a reaction. The little orca, in its contentnt, rolled over, displaying its white underbelly, seeking more affection.
As she continued to read, Kestrel’s fingers started moving again, gently tracing the boundary between the orca’s black and white patterns.
Suddenly, with an abrupt movent, Ren sat up, his face a bright shade of red. He quickly pulled back his psychic incarnation, drawing the orca back into himself.
Kestrel was caught off guard, her book tumbling from her grasp and landing with a soft thud on the floor. She looked up, her eyes wide with surprise, trying to piece together what had just happened.
She rembered that Ren had drifted into a deep sleep during their grooming session. To pass the ti, she had picked up a book, and when the orca, seemingly curious, had co closer, she’d absentmindedly stroked it.
Now, as she looked at Ren’s flustered expression, she tried to grasp what had just triggered his reaction. But her mind kept wandering back to the sensation of the orca’s skin under her fingertips. It was soft and slightly springy, making a unique sound whenever she touched it. It made sense to her now why her tendrils seed so fond of it.
She looked back at Ren, trying to gauge his thoughts, but found herself more intrigued with the orca and the sensations it provided.
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