34: Heat Stroke

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While not explicit, there is a brief scene in this chapter that recalls a time of sexual assault. There is also victim blaming prevalent in this chapter. Due to both of these occurrences, please proceed with caution.


It was Zigzag's birthday, so he happily declared.

He shared the news when Magnet tried to rouse him, lying so comfortably against his propped-up pillows. He always slept sitting straight up. It used to scare Mickey on her sleepless nights, like a scarecrow looming over them. There could've been worse watchers.

"I get to sleep in, because it's my birthday," Zigzag said. A pleased smile took over half his face. His wide eyes added to the effect, like a kid hopped up on sugar and triumph.

"It's his birthday?" Squid's derisive grunt followed him throwing down a pillow. A crease pressed into his cheek and harshened his sleepy eyes. "Sure, and I'm the Tooth Fairy."

"Think you'd scare people into wanting to keep their teeth in their mouths," Armpit said.

"Give a bunch of little kids nightmares," X-Ray said. He wiped his glasses with the hem of his tank top. After pushing them up his nose with a finger, he jerked a thumb in Squid's direction. "Can you imagine wakin' up and seein' that ugly mug by your bedside?"

Squid gave a tired, fake laugh and extended his middle fingers in X-Ray's direction.

"You get used to it," Mickey said through a yawn. She kicked away the sleeping bag and groaned at the creaks and pops in her back. The soreness in her muscles had gone away with time but the combination of hunching over and sleeping on a stiff slab still ravaged her. When X-Ray turned to keep ribbing him with Armpit and Zigzag shifted his attention to his trusty TV Guide, Squid heaved himself up and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"You're being a little obvious," Mickey said with a low voice despite the pleased thrum vibrating inside her like a plucked string. Squid lifted a brow. With quick, jerky movements, he twisted the collar of a shirt in his hands. The fabric spun in a sloppy windmill. "Just don't want anyone talking," she added when he didn't speak.

He shrugged. "Got nothin' to hide."

"Easy for you to say. These things tend not to stick to guys."

His hands stalled and he leaned forward, little space between their noses. He held his chin up and tapped his fingers against mouth, lips pulling to one side as a twinkle settled in his eye. "Mm, so you want me to be your dirty little secret?" His deep timbre sent a pleasing thrum hurting through her body.

"Dirt's a little too on the nose." Humming, her eyes rolled up to the canvas ceiling, pretending to think while she tapped her chin. "Or maybe little..."

"Hey."

Chuckling, she pressed her forehead against his, the tips of their noses brushing. "Was talkin' about your brain." She wiggled her fingers. He passed the shirt over, turning to lean back against the metal edge of the bed. If it grew longer it would start to curl up again. She draped the shirt over his head, flattening his fluffy bedhead and pulled the sleeves back, knotting it against the base of his skull.

"Now who's bein' obvious?" He didn't have to turn for her to know he had a large, cocky smile on his face.

She stuck her tongue out at the back of his head. "Shut up."

Magnet tried to get Zigzag up again, pulling on his arm. He barely moved; eyes still glued to his reading material. "I get to sleep in," Zigzag said, "it's my birthday."

They grumbled and groaned but, in the end, they let it go. Because it was Zigzag, and the last thing they wanted to do was piss off someone who appeared one second away from putting his fist through the TV to see what the insides looked like.

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