The Act of being Modest
I lay back down, Damocles in my arms, but slept badly the rest of the night.
When morning came, Gabriel and I ate breakfast in more tense silence—he'd finally made my pancakes—broken only occasionally by stiff small talk.
We then went to the bookstore together, parting ways quickly. I hardly saw him the rest of the day.
Bastien was in the city for some reason or another that night, so he picked me up later and drove me over to his place for the ridiculous heist at Dana's.
When I saw the post-sex energy wreathing him, I knew what had brought him downtown.
"Don't you get tired of getting laid every day?" I asked him, wishing I could have gotten laid last night.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't actually just ask that, Fleur."
He then proceeded to ramble on about his various Dana sightings in the last few days, how chummy they were getting, how it could only be a matter of time before the inevitable.