"A demon appearing so early... it's not good," Sol repeated. Her voice had lost its playful lilt.
Arthur leaned back against the cold marble rim. The steam rising from the water did little to obscure Sol's form, but for the first time since she'd manifested, he wasn't looking at her curves. He was staring into her eyes—gold, piercing, and terrifyingly intelligent.
"I know," Arthur sighed, shutting his eyes. The adrenaline was gone, leaving only a bone-deep ache. "If a Count-level is here now, the scaling is broken. The mid-terms, the exchange—everything I prepped for just got harder."
He felt the water shift. Sol moved closer. Her hands, soft and impossibly warm, landed on his shoulders, her thumbs digging into the knotted muscle.
"You're tight," she whispered, her breath hot against his wet ear. "And you're overthinking."
"I'm strategizing," he corrected, groaning as she worked out a painful spot. "If I hadn't stepped in—"
