Chapter 58: Where Pain Becomes Doctrine and Devotion
Time, within my Mindspace, had a funny way of stretching. A single moment of silence could yawn into eternity. A quiet breath could last for what felt like days. So when I say Onyx refused to let me wake up for "a while," I mean that in the way a glacier refuses to melt under moonlight—slow, immovable, obsessive.
She was glued to me. Not figuratively. Her body was wrapped around mine like some obsessive, biomechanical compression blanket with emotional issues. Every inch of her frame curled around mine like a jealous parasite that'd mistaken affection for fusion.
Crystal probed into my Mindspace once out of worry—probably after realizing I hadn't come up for air or quips in a while—but upon sensing the emotional wreckage and the full-body cuddle siege I was trapped in, she respectfully backed out and muttered something about "clingy Stalkers and their terminal spooning disorders."
Fair.
