He felt oddly relieved that the critter was gone, and he no longer had to pay any mind toward its fate, nor responsibility for whatever arcane tasks it had been ordained by Azathoth. He felt unqualified to rein in its impulses. It was, after all, just by luck that he managed to save his friend to begin with! At the moment, he barely had enough power to save the people he cared about, let alone rival the machinations of an outer god.
"Huh" he thought aloud, to himself.
Sylvia replied, dusting some matted splinters off the seat of her skirt. "What is it?"
"Oh, nothing, I was just realizing how much I cared about you, all along." He was answered with the sodden fabric of her skirt thrown into his face.
"Fucking dumbass! I just got all that out of my system, and then you go along and say something like that...! What, one time wasn't enough for you? Are you trying to get me caught in a goddamned cycle of heat?!"
"S-sorry, I've just been lying to myself for so long... It felt nice to finally get my thoughts out in the open, for once." She simmered like an incandescent lightbulb in his face, at that. "Jeez, Sylvia. Does everything I do, have to turn you on?"
"Shut the fuck up, little dick! I didn't choose to fall for you, alright?! It's bad enough that you can basically read my mind, and shit! I didn't ask for all this!" Her words declared it so, but her astral form told him that she was even more aroused than before.
He was beginning to notice a pattern, here. She seemed to lash out whenever she was even a little bit introduced to something that she didn't understand. Her pranks, her curses, her diatribes, they were all an expression of her discomfort with the idea of love. Could it have been that— even way, back then, from the beginning, she was...?
It warmed him to her considerably, but he was growing tired of her reducing his talents to little more than hocus pocus bogus hoodoo voodoo parlor magic. "I told you, it's not mind-reading! I can look into the astral plane, and see the outline of your soul. Out there, I can see all the energy pathways, as they cross the astral form. As radiant beings, we have no need for lies and deception for our true feelings! It's a more pure and succinct format of expression, and I find the idea quite beautiful."
It turned out that there was indeed something that soothed her yearnings, as the longer he went on explaining the details of how his powers worked, the dimmer the glow in her chest became. He made sure to take a mental note of this turnoff for later reference. It may come in handy to know of such tactics to relieve her tension if they ever find themselves in a pinch, without any recourse to relieve her passionate urges.
"Dude, do I look like I give a shit?! Look at me—" She pointed at her face, as unfeeling and careless as ever he had seen it; an expression that he hadn't seen for an absurd number of years. "Does this face seem like someone who cares? Just-- don't look at me, alright? It's embarrassing!"
Her throbbing core screamed out the contrary, so he strolled over, and took her hands into his own. She tried to pull away, but he held on tight; staring down at her diminutive figure with knowing, avaricious eyes. She stared up into his face as well, lips parting wordlessly.
She was so coy, so cute. In any other story, her character would be a source of extreme frustration for the both of them, but due to his unnatural prowess, he knew exactly what to do to satisfy her. She would always have someone to trust completely, and who could give her what she wants.
It was the least he could do.
He leaned down and kissed her, right there. No pretense, no waffling, and no insecurity. He knew how much she wanted him, and he'd be damned before he let something as small as insecurity stand in the way of giving it to her. The burning waves of blinding passion died down under the dousing chill of his intimate contact. Her hands clutched hungrily around his middle back, and she indulged with every atom of her being.
Seven fucking years... Of course one time wouldn't have been enough! What kind of guy would turn away such a generous offer? Sure, their first time had been a little bit awkward, and it was satisfying enough in its own right to have that benchmark crossed off their bucket list, but the scene was as much a move done out of necessity as reconciliation.
She was imploding under the weight of her newly realized sexual limitations. Having owned an exhaust port for all those thoughts and feelings most of her adolescent life, she was unaccustomed to the habit of soothing her own urges. It was charming enough that she had tried. For his sake, she tried to play off her inherent perversion, to hide it away, like it was something sinful. Her first act had been an explosive release, basically using him as her new outlet. This time would be different.
He would prove to her that he accepted all of her, just as she had dreamed of becoming one with all the darkest parts of him. She may have been a complete slut, but what did it matter? She would be his, and his alone. As long, and for as many times as she wanted.
There would be no more shame between them; no more secrets. He was hers, and she was his. That kiss proved it, beyond a shadow of a doubt. She didn't have to be a saint to deserve him. He never wanted perfection to begin with. If that had been enough, then he would have let her brainwashed self take full control, all those years ago, and where would they be now?
Derek would have died within a week, and she would remain a prisoner within her own mind. She cried again, silently, as all these thoughts ran through her head. She kissed him, like he had slain a dragon in her benefit—and in truth, he had.—She kissed him like the world was ending—which it soon would.—She kissed him like she was going to lose him forever.
When they eventually parted lips, she shook her head, and wiped her cheeks clean; trembling in his lanky, skinny arms. "Y-you really don't mind? That I'm basically a filthy whore, deep inside my heart of hearts?"
He shook his head, comfortingly. "I couldn't be happier, actually. This might actually be the best possible draw a man like me has ever had on the surface of the world. Don't you know? Every guy wants a loyal slut to live in his house and cook his meals and have seventeen children with. Isn't that the American Dream?"
She giggled, "We've never been to America. How should I know?"
"Ah-ah-ah!" he waggled his finger before her face, jokingly. "What happened, you don't know your geography? I thought you had the best grades in your class! The Everglades are on the same continent as the United States. Even if we don't have citizenry, we still are Americans, from a certain point of view."
"A certain point of view?" she laughed back at him. He was trying to cheer her up, and it was working. "You know exactly what I meant, dumbass! I fucking hate it when you play stupid like that." He pecked her on the lips again, to put that fire out. He timed it rightly, just at the very moment that she flared up again.
He noticed that the effect was doubled when he granted her wishes instantly, like that. He repeated it a couple more times, just to be sure; leaving her a dazed and drunken mess. She was putty in his hands.
"You know, I think I'm starting to get a handle on this whole girl's intuition thing, you were talking about."
"Hee hee, hee. Hehee....." was her only answer. She hung limp and boneless in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead, and held her close to his chest; where she could be enveloped by his scent. Her drool stained his t-shirt, and he simply grinned right through it.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure I'm got you all figured out-Yow!" he cried, as she gripped and twisted one of his nipples.
"Hey, hey hey. Don't get too full of yourself, buddy. I'm still gonna be the one on top, you know?"
"Ulp!" He swallowed, inhaling all his former confidence in an instant. "Y-yes, darling."
Her entire body exploded in a violent spray of intense energy. "What did you call me?!" She wrapped her slender hands around his throat.
So, he repeated it; louder.