Author's note: Comment and enjoy.
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The walk from the subway station to the Stacy apartment felt like wading through knee-deep molasses. Even with her incredible physique —Gwen felt as though her internal battery had been drained to a flickering 1%. The mental gymnastics required to impress Dr. Aris Vane at Aether Biotics had taken a greater toll than any physical sprint through abandoned subway tunnels.
"I think... my brain is actually melting, Leo," Gwen thought, her mental voice sluggish.
It isn't melting, Gwen, Leo replied. His voice was different than before— more like a resonant, supportive hum. But you have pushed the grey matter that you call brain to a high level on a long duration. You are just tired.
Gwen barely had the energy to fumble with her keys. She slipped through the front door, offering a muffled, "Hey, I'm home, going to sleep," to the general direction of the kitchen where she could hear her mother humming. She didn't wait for a response. She stumbled into her room, the door clicking shut behind her as she collapsed face-first onto her bed. She didn't even kick off her shoes. The navy blue tailored blazer and charcoal slacks—felt like a lead weight against her skin.
"Just... five minutes," she murmured into her pillow.
Within seconds, the world went dark.
Leo watched—or rather, sensed—as Gwen's consciousness drifted into a deep, restorative sleep. In the past, Leo might have done nothing.
But he began to care. She wasn't just a 'host' anymore. She was Gwen. And Gwen was currently uncomfortable.
Carefully, Leo began to move. He didn't wait for a command. He felt the tension in her shoulders, the way the structured "wool" of the blazer pressed against her tired muscles. With a thought, he began to dissolve the clothes.
In the span of a minute, the outfit was gone. In its place, Leo manifested a set of oversized, soft flannel pajamas in a light lavender hue. He created a gentle, localized warmth that mimicked the feeling of a heated blanket.
Sleep, Gwen, he thought, his tone uncharacteristically soft. I'll handle the vigile.
Gwen woke up three hours later to the soft glow of her desk lamp, which she had apparently forgotten to turn off. She blinked, feeling a strange, cloud-like softness against her skin. She looked down and gasped.
"Leo? Did you...?"
You were too tired and had a massive discomfort, Leo explained almost shy. I took the liberty of adjusting your clothes.
Gwen ran her hand over the flannel sleeve. It felt incredibly warm, slightly fuzzy, and smelling faintly of the lavender detergent her mother used. "You made me pajamas. And they're... actually really comfortable. Thank you, Leo. That was... really kind of you."
Were partner, Leo replied. I simply... wanted you to feel at home.
Gwen sat up, feeling significantly better. The crushing weight of the interview had lifted, replaced by a warm glow of appreciation for the entity sharing her life. "Well, you nailed it. Maybe a little too well—I don't think I ever want to take these off."
A tactical error on my part, then, Leo quipped, a hint of dry wit echoing in her mind.
After that the rest of the week was a study in agonizing patience. Dr. Vane had told her to wait about a week for the formal confirmation, citing "formalities". For Gwen, every vibration of her phone in her pocket felt like an electric shock. She was basically crazy with it.
At Midtown High, the world felt smaller. She walked through the halls, navigating the 'chaotic symphony' of teenage life with a newfound sense of detachment.
Leo was surprisingly active during their school hours. He was becoming her constant, supportive commentator.
When Flash Thompson made a particularly loud and obnoxious comment in the hall, Leo whispered, His vocal cords are vibrating at a frequency that suggests he is overcompensating for a lack of social security.
"I think your right," Gwen thought, stifling a giggle as she headed to Calculus.
A pity we can do nothing, Leo sighed. It would been 'scientifically' interesting. And absolutly hilarous.
During their lunch breaks, which had become a dedicated time for their 'chocolate habit,' Leo would often show Gwen series or video he had saw during their walks. But at some point even Leo became impatient to receive the reply of Dr. Vane.
"You're actually excited about this lab, aren't you?" Gwen asked one Thursday, sitting on her usual secluded bench.
Not necessarily, Leo replied. But I find the prospect of a controlled environment highly 'agreeable.' It will be a place where we don't have to pretend to be less than what we are. At least, not to ourselves.
"I feel the same way," Gwen admitted. "It's getting harder to act like I'm struggling with basic organic chemistry when you're literally showing me the atoms in 4k."
You are a very convincing actress, Gwen, Leo encouraged. And soon, you won't have to act as much. We are almost there.
Friday evening arrived with a heavy rain that lashed against the apartment windows. Gwen was sitting at the kitchen table, picking at her dinner while her father, Captain George Stacy, talked about a "strange spike in industrial burglaries" across the city.
"People are getting bold, Gwen," George said, shaking his head. "Stealing high-end lab equipment, of all things. Whoever they are, they know exactly what they're looking for."
Anomalies, Leo whispered. There are others seeking the same power we possess, though their methods are crude.
Gwen nodded absently, her eyes fixed on her phone. Then, it happened.
The screen lit up with a new email notification. Subject: Formal Offer - Aether Biotics Internship Program.
Gwen's breath hitched. She tapped the screen with trembling fingers.
Dear Ms. Stacy, Following your interview with Dr. Vane, we are pleased to formally offer you a position...
"I got it," she whispered. Then, louder, "I got it! Dad, Mom, I got the internship!"
The kitchen erupted into cheers and hugs. Amidst the celebration, Gwen felt a deep, resonant pulse of satisfaction from within.
We have secured the access, Partner, Leo said. His voice wasn't just a 'trusted colleague' anymore. It sounded proud. You did it, Gwen.
"We did it, Leo," she corrected him silently, her heart full. "We did it together."
As she headed to bed that night, Gwen didn't feel like a girl who had been 'infected'. She felt like half of a whole—a member of a partnership that was just beginning to realize its true potential.
Ready for Monday? Leo asked as she drifted toward sleep.
"Ready," Gwen thought. "Let's see what else we can do."