The Book of Firsts

Fifty-Six

"Even though you weren’t trying at the start, I’m starting to think you might catch up. Despite having a week off for surgery, you’re now only two challenges behind Kyou."

"I always enjoy an underdog victory," Bran said. He was sprawled on the couch playing Tyranny, and only glanced at me as I came in, before turning his attention back to his phone. "Strip and join me," he said.

Simon Says, although I couldn’t guarantee that Bran wouldn’t take the same approach to any other challenge. I shed layers obediently, grabbed my phone, and arranged myself against him.

"Summer uniforms next week," I noted, running a finger along the neckline of his tunic. "No more tights."

"Are you going to wear that ridiculously long skirt again?"

"I’d probably be expelled if I didn’t."

He snorted. "Given your tendency to run around with no underpants?"

"Blame that on Rin’s underwear collection."

"Collection?" Bran looked up from the game, and promptly died. "More than those white pants?"

"He’s got the tartan set. Possibly framed."

"Bastard. I hope his sisters find it."

"He can’t be silly enough to keep them at his house. Houses."

"Must be at the office. I’ll check later. Hurry up and log in."

We found a comfortable position to lie together, with Bran partially propped up on cushions, and me lying against his chest, angled so both of us could hold our phones to play Tyranny without completely getting in each other’s way. Bran played well for two games, but having his wrists on my chest was far too distracting—for both of us—so after the second game he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and said: "Strip me."

He didn’t seem inclined to make it easy for me, lying watching me through dark lashes as I began trying to work his clothes off, barely shifting in response to my tugging. In return I treated him like an unwieldy sack of potatoes, repositioning him without trying to coax him to cooperate. When I was done, I settled myself on his legs, curious to see what he’d say next, but it seemed he’d lost interest in the game, sitting up in a fine display of abdominals and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"No orders for me?" he murmured into my ear.

I laughed, and took hold of him in turn. "Stop playing around."

He did as ordered, so thoroughly that I only arrived at Art Club halfway through production of the posters for next week’s Sports Carnival. After completing my model, I’d been a little casual about showing up at Club, but was trying to increase my attendance now that Carr had had time to recover.

Sean and Sue were full of discussion of the newly-released Sea of Silver, and the announcement that Christophe would be reprising his bit part as the Margrave, a development which had made his most recent Instagram particularly hot gossip in Corascur.

"I don’t think I’d call myself his girlfriend," I said, in response to a question from Sue. "We dated, I left the country, we keep in touch, we might be going to meet up next big holiday."

"Isn’t that just another way of saying long-distance relationship?" Sean asked, eagerly. "And can you get me his autograph?"

"Possibly and probably. Would you like a signed photo from Macchu Piccu? I’ll bring a couple back, presuming that I end up going, and everyone qualifies for their courses and so on."

I found myself with a half-dozen orders for signed photos—no surprise, since Christophe’s popularity had sky-rocketed since the release of _Sky of Diamond_—and then rather firmly shut the conversation down. Even if I wasn’t trying to hide the past nature of our relationship, there was a limit to how far I’d discuss exactly what I’d done with Christophe.

Glad that the days had lengthened so it would still be light when I reached home, I headed out, and found myself walking alongside Carr.

"The scenery on my morning commute was particularly interesting," I told him.

For a moment he looked completely confused, then smiled. "Have the posters gone up in your area? I heard they’d arrive soon, but I haven’t seen any."

"Enormous cloth placards in the curves of the streetlight poles," I said. "Impossible to miss. Sadly, my parents are currently in the Canadian wilds, and very unlikely to pass any posters, but I’m going to subtly send them links to things that happen to mention the Awards."

"I’m starting to suspect you feed off astonishment like a vampire does blood. Though perhaps it’s the build-up you enjoy most."

"Well spotted. I’d call it my only vice, but that would be overlooking all the cake."

He chuckled and then, reaching the point where our paths diverged, lifted a hand in farewell. I headed for the buses, pleased with him, and even a little sorry I hadn’t been free to date him. I doubt it would have worked in the long run, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t have enjoyed him.