She rolled her eyes. “I’ve watched you get high for weeks. I’ve seen how you get.”

“I’m an old hand at this,” I told her imperiously. “But honestly, Beryl, you’ll be fine. Humans smoke shade a lot. They’ve done tests on it and stuff. It’s totally harmless, and it isn’t addictive, but if you don’t like the sensation, we’ll stop. It isn’t for everyone.”

“Okay.” She grinned at me. “I’m nervous but excited. I’m already feeling a little high from today.”

“That’s good. Not the best idea to smoke if you’re feeling super stressed out and edgy. Sometimes it helps take the edge off, but sometimes it can, like, exacerbate those feelings. I once got super high after a big fight with Agma, and I just sat there for hours, convinced I could hear my eyeballs swivelling in my head.”

She laughed, settling back on the couch and watching intently as I stuck the joint between my lips and lit it. After taking a short drag, I passed it over to her, my whole arm tingling as my fingertips brushed hers.

I couldn’t believe I’d hugged her and almost squeezed the life out of her earlier. She’d never told me it was okay to touch her like that, but… I didn’t think she’d minded. She’d hugged me back hard, her whole body wrapped around me, and my hearts had gone nuts. Hopefully she hadn’t felt them pounding against her.

I’d just been so happy for her. I could tell Beryl was struggling to find her footing out here in the real world. She was always so miserable after a long day of trawling through job listings online, until I managed to cheer her up by being an idiot as we watched TV and ate dinner.

Of course she’d managed to land a job by going out for an hour and just strolling right into the first place she saw advertising a vacancy. I had no doubt that Beryl could do whatever she set her mind to. She was just… awesome. And brave.

I watched her take a drag on the joint from the corner of my eye while pretending to scroll through DemiTV. I didn’t want to make her self-conscious by flat-out staring at her while she did it, but I also wanted to gauge her reaction and make sure she was okay.

She held her breath for a few seconds before exhaling a stream of white smoke, which made my gut clench. Why did that look so hot? She coughed a little at the end, wincing as the last of the smoke no doubt burned her throat. But as she passed the joint back, she grinned at me.

I grinned back. “What do you think?”

“Not sure yet.” She made a face and smacked her lips. “Tastes different to how it smells.”

“Yeah.” I took a long drag myself and exhaled slowly, relaxing back into the couch. “Tastes good, though. How’re you feeling?”

“Fine, I think. I don’t think it’s… Oh.” She let out a tiny laugh. “My head’s swimming a bit.”

“That’s probably a little from inhaling so deeply as well.” I passed the joint back to her. “Maybe one more toke and then we’ll wait a couple minutes.”

“Okay.” She took it from me, and this time, I couldn’t stop myself from staring as she raised it to her lips. My mouth had just been on that. And now hers was.

Insides squirming, I fidgeted with the blankets on my lap and gave her a tiny smile as she passed the joint back. A few seconds later, she laughed for no reason.

My mouth twitched into a smile around the joint as I looked at her. “Feeling it?”

“Yeah.” Her green eyes looked a touch heavier, and her lips were curved into a slightly goofy smile.

She looked so freaking cute.

“Hungry yet?” I asked with a tiny smirk. She snorted and smacked my arm.

“No.” But even as she said it, her hooded eyes drifted over to the pizza box on the coffee table.

“You know what’s a great thing to watch while you’re high?” I closed down DemiTV and went to my recorded shows. After selecting one, I hit play and grinned while Beryl peered blearily at the TV as a logo exploded onto the screen. Literally exploded, punching through a brick wall accompanied by the screech of electric guitars.

“D-Dewla..?”

“Deep Earth Wrestling League Association.” I smacked my thigh. “We’re watchin’ wrasslin’, bay-bee!”

Shit, the shade was getting to me tonight, maybe because I was already in such a good mood over Beryl’s news. Before I could get embarrassed over being such a dork, she burst out laughing and then couldn’t stop, which set me off until my eyes were streaming and I was struggling to gulp down air.

At some point, Beryl and I ended up facing each other from opposite ends of the couch with our legs tangled under the blankets in the middle. I was pretty sure we’d just stayed that way after I showed her the game my siblings and I used to play, where we’d push the soles of our feet together and try to overpower the other by stretching our legs right out.

Not much of a game, to be honest, and I’d always lost as a kid, being the smallest. But Beryl had cried with laughter at the sight of me with my knees practically at my ears so the soles of our slippers could actually meet in the middle. And at the sight of my giant feet stretching twice as far as hers.

Now, having just smoked another joint, we were eating our subs. The pizza was already gone, consumed mostly by me. Beryl’s head was turned to the side to watch the wrestling, but I was just staring at nothing through glazed eyes as I chewed my sandwich. It was so good.

When Beryl started laughing, I blinked slowly and turned my head to look at the TV, then blinked again. I couldn’t see what was funny. The Urg—who was my favourite wrestler—had Sinak “Big Demi” Bathan in a wicked chokehold, and was puffing up his chest and posturing as Big Demi tried to get free.

I wondered briefly if it had been such a great idea putting this on for us to watch. Beryl had spent the last couple of hours staring at big, beefy demiurgus in tiny skimpy outfits. My body looked nothing like theirs—not anymore. Well, not that I’d ever been that big. But I hardly ever worked out anymore, so I was just kind of lanky. Except for my little pot belly, thanks to how much I ate.

Not like Beryl’s ever gonna see you naked, I thought morosely, turning from the screen and taking another bite of sandwich.

I realised she was still laughing, so I blinked at her. Rubbing a bloodshot eye, she set down her sub and pointed at mine. I glanced down and finally noticed that all my sandwich fillings—an unhealthy amount of sliced meat and cheese—were falling out the other end of the sub and onto my lap every time I took a bite.

“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, leaning over to put the rest of the sandwich on its paper wrapper on the coffee table and almost toppling off the couch.

“Greid!” Beryl cried between snorts of laughter as I started eating what was on my lap.

“What?” I glared at her. “No point wasting it.”

Somewhere under the blankets, she shifted her leg to poke me in the calf with her big toe. “You’re so gross.”

“How is that gross? The blanket’s clean.” Possibly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d washed it. As I stuffed the last slice of salami into my mouth, I saw all the grease stains on the fabric. “Well, it was.”

Gathering up the dirty blanket, I rolled off the couch and stood. “Want some water?” I asked as I shuffled my way to the door.

“Yes, please.”

After dumping the blanket somewhere near the washing machine, I filled two glasses and returned to Beryl. She lifted her legs in the air, taking the blankets with them so I could hand over her water and crawl back underneath.

After chugging mine, I set down the glass and pulled my hood up, resting my temple against the back of the couch. Beryl was watching me as she sipped her water, and I found myself staring back, unable to look away. Her green eyes were heavy, the whites a little pink, but still so pretty.

We stared at each other in silence, the sound of cheers and the too-loud voices of the commentators coming from the TV. Then her drowsy gaze shifted over my shoulder, and she cocked her head.