Four on the Floor, Part Eleven - Steemit Exclusive Urban Fantasy
Part Eleven
“Parsival, you’re free.”
Later in my life, I’m sure I’ll be proud that this was my first instinct. For now I feel like shit for not noticing it sooner.
So I’m not offended when he rolls his eyes.
“Okay, Parsival I release you from… uh… service?”
Nothing.
“Jesus, just tell me what to say so you won’t be my slave anymore?”
“It’s not that simple. I’m bound to you. This isn’t a simple oath you can release me from.” He hasn’t moved, save gathering his hair and tying it back. I’m hoping that I don’t have to command him to walk, talk, all that. But then, if he was in the troll’s service before, and he didn’t need to do such things…
“Okay, tell me exactly how this works and how I can break this bond. You were fine when you were with Bjorn.”
“You just have to unbind us in Sigil. It’s a spell, an enchantment. With anyone else I’d be fucked and in your servitude until you died, but at least you’re Keth.” He waits expectantly, even tapping his shoe. “C’mon, you already know my name, get on with it.”
I blink a few times. “So… what do I say?”
He grits his teeth. “Parsival, our bond has run its course and I release you. Go in peace.”
Okay…
“Parsival, our bond-“
“In Sigil. Are Keth just getting dumber?”
“I don’t know how to say those things in whatever language that is. Can’t you just tell me how to say it and I’ll repeat it?”
“I can’t. A servant can’t trick their master into freeing them from bondage.”
“But I’m not tricking you. I actually want to say it.” I look around, remember that we’re still standing on a public street. “Okay, how about we have this conversation… Not here. Any idea where we can talk?”
“Yes.”
“And… would you care to share that information, or point? Or walk off and I follow you?”
His lips form a thin line, before bows his head and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Am I permitted to advise you, Lady Absinthe?”
I roll my eyes. I’m better at it than he is. “Oh Jesus, really?”
The only response are his eyes opening slightly wider, brows going up, head tilted to the side. The kind of gesture that says, “Yes, dumbass.”
“Parsival. I grant you permission to advise me.” It’s like I’m getting another Pumpkin. Joy. “Parsival, I also grant you permission to call me A.J. In fact, I prefer it.”
“Fantastic, then I advise you to follow me to the Blue Line unless you drove here.”
“I live a few blocks from here.”
“Alone?”
“No, but-“
“Then the Blue Line’s better.” He’s already cutting me off. “Plenty of weird on that train and unless you want whatever you live with to think we’re fucking, I’d advise we go somewhere else.”
I fold my arms. “Are you serious?”
“Roommate, lover, or family?”
“Roommate.” Also, I’m not keen on taking this guy home if Tasha’s there. She’ll know we’re not stopping in for DTF nonsense, and we have a general rule of no sex in the apartment, mostly because of neighbors and trying to sleep. She’s got a friend she stays overnight with, and I’m not looking for sex.
“Human?”
“Yep.” My arms are still folded. Also, I don’t want to take him home because Pumpkin and now Hades make for enough men in my life.
“Yeah, they’ll think we’re fucking.” He waits a beat. “I’m half-Fae. Half-sidhe actually. My mother was so achingly beautiful that humans would fall in love with her at first glance, and that’s when they’re not seeing her as she really is. My face is perfectly symmetrical, my hair is long and flowing, my eyes are a shade too deep to be human, my skin is fucking flawless and my voice sounds like a goddamned Disney prince about to burst into song. They. Will think. We’re fucking.”
It should be pretty clear what my opinion of guys like him is, but a certain hand gesture always helps to further illustrate the point.
At least we’re walking and talking, and I’m keeping at least two feet between us at all times. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. Blame your own damned culture for seeing me as a romance cover model.”
“Yeah, I don’t read those.”
“Oh, one of those, huh?” He waits another beat. “Not even going to ask all indignant by what I mean by those?”
“Nope, but I’m starting to see why Bjorn wanted to offload you ASA fucking P.”
“Too misogynistic? Too sexist? Too misandrist? Too fantastical and unrealistic? Reductive of female archetypes? ‘Diversity is a goal, not a selling point?’” I glance at him after that, and he shrugs in reply. “What? Fae can be on social media.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m ace, okay?” I don’t give him a beat. “Asexual. Yes, I have functioning genitalia. No, I do not hate people who do have sex. Yes, I am on the spectrum but not the one that comes to mind when someone says ‘on the spectrum’. Yes, there are people who are on both and if you want to know more, find one and ask. I’m aromantic but aces can be homo, hetero, bi, panromantic, what have you. Romance novels are not targeted at people who are not interested in romance, and generally they shouldn’t be, so I do not read them.”
He stops walking, shocked, like I’ve grown a second head. I’m used to it, and I already know what’s coming next. “Wait, no sex, no romance, nothing?”
Like he’s on script. This is one reason why I don’t tell people.
He smirks, “Chal-“
“If you say ‘Challenge accepted’, Parsival, I swear to God I will order you to jump off Victory Tower.”
And that’s the other. I’m not bitter, why do you ask?