NOVPUB
Chapter 54: Oh, please
Kael scooped up Rhea’s discarded costume from the floor, the fabric damp and faintly warm from their earlier chaos.
"I’ll get this cleaned," he said, flashing her a quick grin as he headed for the laundry nook. Rhea stretched, amber eyes glinting with a lazy satisfaction, and padded off toward the shower without a word, her bare feet silent on the Haven’s worn planks.
He tossed the costume into the washing machine with some detergent, the hum of the cycle kicking in as he returned to the kitchen.
The table sat bare, slick with traces of their morning—sweat, breath, and other unspoken juices.
Kael grabbed a rag and some floor cleaner, wiping it down with quick, firm strokes until the wood gleamed, then set to work plating breakfast: fresh eggs, golden toast, and a small bowl of fruit, the scent of coffee lingering in the air.
The shower shut off, and Rhea emerged, sauntering back to the table in nothing but her undergarments and the collar still snug around her neck.
Her black lace bra hugged her full breasts, the delicate straps cutting a stark line against her flushed skin, while her matching panties clung low on her hips, accentuating the curve of her ass and the lean strength of her thighs.
Her damp hair hung in loose waves, droplets trailing down her collarbone, catching the light as she moved—raw, unpolished, and effortlessly sexy.
Kael’s hazel eyes flicked up, meeting her amber ones, a silent spark passing between them as they settled into their chairs.
He broke the quiet first, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Nice warm-up this morning, huh? You’ll be buzzing all day now—full of energy."
Rhea smirked back, spearing a piece of egg with her fork.
"Yeah, well, you’re the one who couldn’t keep up—thought you’d collapse halfway, Oh wait!, you did." Her tone was teasing, a chuckle, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she popped the bite into her mouth.
Kael laughed, leaning back. "Oh, please—I was pacing myself. Didn’t want to wear you out before Harris shows up."
"Pacing yourself? Sure, Kael," she shot back, grinning as she swiped a piece of toast. "Next time, I’ll make you beg for a break." They bickered and laughed, the easy rhythm of their banter filling the Haven as they ate.
Breakfast dwindled to crumbs, and a sharp car honk cut through the quiet—Harris, right on cue.
Kael bolted to the laundry, snagging Rhea’s costume from the machine.
It was still damp, clinging to his hands as he rushed back.
"Shit, it’s wet," he muttered, but Rhea just stood, unfazed.
"Let me dry it. Here, open this collar." Rhea pointed he finger towards her collar.
Kael fumbled with the collar’s clasp, removing it with a soft click, and she flared to life—flames licking around her in a controlled burst, drying the costume instantly. n𝚘𝚟𝚙𝚞𝚋.𝚌o𝚖
She slipped it on, the fabric stretching perfectly over her curves, wrinkle-free and molded to her like a second skin.
Kael handed her the mask, his hazel eyes warm.
"Good luck out there."
She took it, sliding it into place with a nod.
"Thanks," she said, her voice steady, then turned and strode out, the door closing behind her with a soft thud.
Kael lingered by the table, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Lovely morning, he thought, the Haven settling into a peaceful hum.
Kael cleared the table, stacking the empty plates in the sink with a soft clatter, then ambled toward Freya’s room.
He nudged the door open with his shoulder, peering inside. She lounged across her bed, her blue eyes flicking to him as he stepped in, the morning light filtering through a cracked blind.
"Morning," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.
"Morning," she mumbled back, propping herself up on an elbow. "Rhea went to that hero thing again?"
"Yeah," Kael said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Didn’t even have to twist her arm this time—she chose it herself."
Freya nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the breakfast tray he’d carried in—eggs and toast, same as yesterday. Her nose scrunched, a flicker of distaste crossing her face. "This again?"
Kael shrugged, setting the tray on the bed, beside her. "It’s fast and simple. If you’re craving something else, cook lunch—I’m not your personal chef."
She flopped back onto the pillows with a huff, arms crossing. "Fine, I will. You’ll bore me to death with this dull stuff every day otherwise."
__________
Lunchtime crept up, and Kael tapped on Freya’s door again, easing it open. "Lunchtime—I’ve got chicken," he called, holding up a pack of raw chicken breasts, still cold from the fridge, the plastic crinkling in his grip.
Freya unfolded herself from the bed, stretching as she stepped into the hall, her nose twitching like she’d caught a whiff of something odd.
"Why’s it smell weird out here?" she asked, blue eyes narrowing as she scanned the space, her bare feet scuffing the floor.
Kael inhaled, brow furrowing. "I don’t smell anything. Maybe you’re just too used to your room’s stale smell—everything else feels off to you now."
She squinted at him, suspicion lingering in her stare, but shrugged it off, brushing past him toward the kitchen. "Whatever. I need something decent after that snooze-fest breakfast," she muttered, grabbing the chicken from his hands.
She fired up the stove, the click of the burner sparking to life as she rummaged for spices—salt, paprika, a pinch of cumin—scattering them across the counter.
The kitchen warmed with the promise of savory heat, the raw meat sizzling as she slapped it into a pan.
Kael lingered nearby, watching her work with a faint grin. Then, moving quietly, he slipped behind her, pulling a spare bandana from his pocket—a faded blue strip he’d snagged from a drawer.
As she reached for a spatula, he looped it over her eyes, tying it snug with a quick knot. "Guess who," he teased, voice low and playful, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.
Freya stiffened, spatula hovering midair, her breath catching. "Kael, what the hell—?" she snapped, half-startled, half-annoyed, her hands twitching toward the blindfold.
