“Did… did he?” Zayzann gasped and sputtered. His dark, olive skin blanched as sweat dripped down the sides of his face. “B-Byxx… Did he see?”
“Yes, I am afraid he did.” Khazmine confessed. There was no point trying to hide the fact that Zayzann had been observed by the archfiend. “He spared you… From being seen before you were ready.”
“I understand,” he huffed.
Khazmine unplugged from the wall socket and retracted her tendrils back into their forearm juncture with a click. She knelt low on the carpet to examine Zayzann’s shift and appraised him from head to toe. His transformation was flawless, resulting in a slender, athletic human with striking green eyes and impossibly blue hair. He felt cold and naked despite swimming in oceans of fabric and noticed how much different the cool room felt without feathers to disrupt airflow.
“You did a fine job with this.” Khazmine praised with a gloved hand against the side of his face. “But you need to relax and return to your natural state.”
“B-but, I finally did it.” Zayzann protested. “I can pass for human now, just like you.”
“No, little bird.” Khazmine insisted with a knowing conviction. “It’s like tensing a muscle. Too much for too long, and you will injure yourself. Please, listen to me. I know what I’m talking about.”
Zayzann winced at Khazmine’s sincere, pained expression before allowing his muscles to relax and feathers to regrow. She was right about the pain; it was difficult to maintain a human form without practice, and the demands on his body left him ragged and exhausted from the effort.
“There, that’s it.” Khazmine encouraged, helping Zayzann regain his footing on his shaky, birdlike legs. “It stings, doesn’t it? I felt the same way after my Conversion, believe me. Everything hurt for ages…”
“You felt pain?”
“Of course I did.” Khazmine huffed with a smile. “I feel pain, sorrow, longing, and fear… In many ways, I’m no different from an organic.”
“Wait… Then it hurt, when Byxx choked you that night?” Zayzann steadied himself and stared at Khazmine for insight.
“Yes. It did.” Khazmine muttered softly, like an errant breeze. “But I would never want him to know it. I imagine that’s a bit selfish of me, but there it is. The only thing different between you and I in that moment was that I had no need for respiration.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t require air to function.” Khazmine explained. “It wasn’t certain, but I was sure that he wouldn’t destroy me just then… Well, I hoped that he wouldn’t, anyway. Thank the Makers for mistress. She saved me…”
“I’m… really glad you’re here.” Zayzann admitted with a sniffle. “This is so hard by myself. I’m so tired, and I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”
It was probably the exhaustion talking, but Khazmine listened intently to his confessions. She escorted Zayzann to the bedroom and watched him plop lifelessly onto the mattress. He was out cold in mere moments, breathing easily in deep slumber. Khazmine closed the bedroom door and slinked over to the spare room, where Byxx and Iris were wrapping up measurements on his new pants.
“Thank you for letting me take these again.” Iris declared from her seated position on the floor with a marking pencil tucked behind her ear. “I don’t know what I did with the last sheet of measurements. Must have misplaced them or something. That’s been happening a lot these days.”
“I wouldn’t let it bother you too much.” Byxx comforted as Iris wrapped the measuring tape around his immense thigh. He spied Khazmine skulking in the doorway and tilted his head at her. “Things have a way of turning up when you least expect them.”
“Iris.” Khazmine announced in an annoyed tone, spooking the prone woman enough to get a yelp of surprise.
“Whoa, watch the hand there.” Byxx shuddered. “Checking my inseam or just curious?”
“I-I’m so sorry. I was startled, that’s all.” Iris apologized profusely while lowering her hand and blushing beet-red, which only encouraged Byxx to mess with her further.
“I mean, if you need more precise measurements…” he teased.
“Oh, leave her alone.” Khazmine crackled. “It’s my fault for barging in.”
“I seem to remember wise words from someone.” Byxx beamed an amused grin at Khazmine. “Something about knocking on doors, or…”
“Very funny, archfiend.” Khazmine clapped back. “I just came to inform you that Zayzann has retired early, and to remind you of the time. You have work in the morning, and—”
“Yes, you’re right. I should probably call it quits for the night.” Iris rose slowly and battled the pins and needles feeling in her legs. “Oof, looks like I’m half asleep already.”
Iris teetered where she stood, and tripped over a spent spool of thread on the carpet, causing her to topple over. Khazmine rushed under her with surprising speed, catching Iris before Byxx had realized what happened. She scooped Iris up like a blushing bride into her narrow, mechanical embrace.
“Whoa, thanks, Khaz. Nice save.” Iris smiled up at her affectionately. “Guess it really is time. You can put me down now.”
Khazmine ignored her protests and carried Iris to the bedroom with ease while glancing back at the hapless archfiend. Byxx clicked his tongue as they left, and petulantly kicked the empty spool at the door. He lingered in the spare room for a minute before sauntering out to the storage ottoman in the living room to prepare his bedding for the night. He heard the bedroom door squeak as it closed and perched himself on the edge of the couch arm to wait for the Augment.
“That was some fancy footwork on your part there, hero.” Byxx chided Khazmine’s reflexive actions. “I bet you’re almost as fast as Blue.”
“He doesn’t like that name.” Khazmine observed. “Just so you’re aware.”
“He’s never said anything about it.”
“Zayzann puffs up his feathers every time you say it, or hadn’t you noticed?” Khazmine was in no mood for Byxx’s games, and made her remarks with a barbed viciousness under the surface of her metallic replies. “He’s going through a lot right now…”
“Yeah, I saw.” Byxx snidely remarked. “And I intend to do something about it.”
“You may want to recalibrate your stance, archfiend.” Khazmine warned. “He has just as much right to be here as you, and he is significantly more useful at present. And what do you think will become of him if he were ejected from this dwelling, hmm?”
Byxx’s expression soured, and his brows tensed at the thought. It would be his fault, too, which didn’t sit right with him.
“Fine. I’ll keep his secret, at least for a little while longer. Just until he can better control it.” Byxx acquiesced before pointing a finger back at Khazmine. “But I want a favor in exchange. A big one, Khaz. And no arguments, either.”
“You said my name.” Khazmine observed.
“Did I?”
“Yes, just then.” Khazmine pressed.
“Well, I just,” he sputtered, as darkening blush set in on his cheeks. “Don’t read anything into it… A-anyway, I mean it about the favor. When I ask, promise me that you won’t try and get out of it.”
“You have my word.” Khazmine agreed. She extended a gloved hand for Byxx to shake. “What? Isn’t this how you prefer to settle your commitments?”
Byxx shook Khazmine’s hand before he returned to preparing his bedding heap for the night. He wasn’t sure what to ask for just then, but there was no rush, and he was certain he’d come up with something suitably challenging for the Augment. Khazmine had no trouble entering her lifeless-looking stasis when recharging, but Byxx had a difficult time quieting his mind this evening, and only fell asleep well into the night again.
Monday morning dawned earlier than Iris would have liked, with oppressively bright sunbeams pouring through the bedroom blinds to wake her. Zayzann remained motionless when Iris rose from the bed, still exhausted from last night’s endeavors. Iris pulled the top sheet over his tensed body and ran her hand through the ruff of feathers on the back of his neck and head. Only then did Zayzann stir. Iris prepared for work before turning back to get a parting glance at the sleeping Paxoram snuggling against the pillow she had used last night.
Iris had left the apartment and returned to collect a few more things before commuting to the office. She had almost forgotten both her sack lunch and the medications she needed to replace at her desk. These lapses in memory were proving to be challenging and frustrating to her, especially since they were becoming more frequent.
When the doors opened to the GC&S offices that morning, Iris was bewildered by the unexpected appearance of a familiar, sharp-eyed and glamorous woman standing by Mr. Maker’s closed office door. She stood several inches shorter than Iris, even in her thousand dollar designer pumps, and she cast her glance upwards through lidded eyes and nonchalance.
“Have you seen my husband?” she asked as Iris carefully laid her things on her desktop near his office. “I’m looking for Warren Maker. Are you his new girl?”
Oh shoot, it’s her. I completely forgot…
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Iris,” she nodded. “Mr. Maker has a meeting this morning downstairs with one of our clients. He should be back soon, if you would like to wait.”
“I suppose I have no choice.” Mrs. Maker opened his office door and strode inside, leaving Iris to trail behind her. “You there, new girl. Fetch me a peppermint caffeine free herbal tea, will you?”
“I-I’m not sure we have that, Mrs. Maker.” Iris admitted. “Do you have any other preferences, if we don’t have any?”
“A tall glass of lemon water then.” Mrs. Maker leaned back in the leather chair and thumbed through a magazine on Warren’s desk. “Take your time, dear.”
Iris hurriedly dashed to the kitchen to fetch a glass of lemon water, as she was certain that whatever else she had wanted wasn’t available. She nearly collided with Javier and Mr. Cavendish in her haste to return to Warren’s office. They each looked back at her in confusion as she passed. Iris tried to look as casual as she could, tucking an escaped lock of hair behind her ear and steadying her breathing as she walked in on Mrs. Maker rummaging through Warren’s desk drawers.
“My, aren’t you a spritely creature.” Mrs. Maker jolted in astonishment but without a hint of remorse. “That didn’t take long at all.”
“Here is your lemon water, ma’am.” Iris extended her trembling arm with the glass to offer it to Mrs. Maker. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, but would you mind stepping outside to wait for Mr. Maker to return, please?”
“I don’t see why I should.” Mrs. Maker bellowed at Iris, having turned hostile and accusatory on a dime. “Who the hell are you to demand anything from—”
“Piper? Is that you?” Mr. Cavendish inquisitively poked his head into the office.
“Alden, darling!” Piper bleated. “It’s been ages, dearest. How have you been?”
“Same as ever.” Mr. Cavendish deflected. “We simply must catch up. Do you have a few minutes to chat in my office? I have a new Italian leather sectional you just have to try out. What do you say?”
Mrs. Maker sprang from behind the desk and cast a disapproving glance at Iris before departing. Just before Mr. Cavendish closed the office door, he gave Iris a gentle smile and a nod.
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