"Can you please stop pulling me?" Luke said, exasperated. "My clothes are about to be torn."
Before anyone could react—
FWOOSH.
He vanished mid–tug-of-war, leaving all four women grabbing nothing but air.
Selene stumbled half a step forward. Jill blinked. Alice looked down at her empty hands.
Esdeath straightened slowly, eyes narrowing—not annoyed, not angry.
Luke reappeared a few steps away, smoothing his shirt like a man who had narrowly escaped social death.
"See?" he said. "This is why we talk things out like normal people."
Selene crossed her arms. "You ran."
"I strategically relocated," Luke corrected flatly.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Right. I also forgot introductions. This is Esdeath. She… wants me. Just to be clear, I had no hand in this. None. She decided that all on her own."
The three women stared at him.
"…That's worse," Alice said.
Jill frowned. "Then why didn't you just ditch her?"
Luke let out a tired breath. "Because she's about as strong as I am. Chasing her off isn't exactly an option unless I want half the planet remodeled."
"So you don't mind if we throw her out of the house?" Selene asked, tone calm but clearly not joking.
"I don't recommend that option," Esdeath replied lightly.
Then she added, as if stating a simple fact, "You three are weak."
That did it.
Alice's pupils widened just a fraction, the air around her subtly tightening as her telekinesis stirred. Jill's hands moved on instinct—two pistols forming smoothly in her grip. Even Selene shifted her stance, shadows creeping forward like they were testing the ground beneath Esdeath's feet.
The temperature in the room dropped—not from magic, but tension.
"No."
Luke's voice cut through it cleanly.
Everyone froze.
He stepped forward, expression flat, tired, but firm. "Not in the house. And no powers."
He looked at the three of them first. "And no—you're not a match for her. Not like this."
Then he glanced at Esdeath. "That goes for you too."
A beat of silence followed.
Luke exhaled. "If you're going to fight over me"—he paused, clearly pleases "do it with words. Attitudes. Glares. Normal stuff. Not abilities that turn my living room into a disaster zone."
Selene, Alice, and Jill slowly lowered their weapons. The tension didn't vanish, but it shifted—sharper, more focused. Less combat, more assessment.
Luke noticed it immediately.
"…Ummm," he said carefully, "why are you looking at me like that?"
Jill tilted her head, eyes narrowing just a bit. "Do you think this is some romantic drama," she asked, flat and unimpressed, "where we're supposed to fight over you?"
Alice folded her arms. "Because if that's what you're imagining," she added calmly, "you're misunderstanding the situation."
Selene's gaze stayed on Luke, unreadable. "We're not competing," she said. "We're evaluating."
Luke blinked. "Evaluating… what?"
"All of this," Jill said, gesturing vaguely between Luke and Esdeath. "Why she's here. Why she's attached to you. And why trouble keeps following you home."
After that, they did exactly what they said they would.
They used words.
All of them.
On him.
Questions, remarks, pointed comments, passive-aggressive observations—layered one after another until Luke felt a headache building behind his eyes. It was somehow worse than getting punched. At least punches were honest.
By the end of it, he was slumped slightly on the couch, rubbing his temples, looking like a man who had just survived a very polite interrogation.
In the end, they agreed to let Esdeath stay.
Not because they liked the idea—but because there wasn't really another option. Even Selene had to admit it, quietly and without enthusiasm: this woman wasn't just dangerous, she was fixated. Throwing her out would only make things worse.
Early the next morning—
Luke was half-asleep when he felt warmth press against his side. Soft. Close. Familiar enough that his body reacted before his brain did. He shifted instinctively and wrapped an arm around the figure, pulling her closer into his chest.
For a brief moment, everything felt normal.
Then something felt… off.
The shape was different. The weight. The way she fit against him.
Luke's eyes cracked open.
Blue hair spilled across his pillow, catching the morning light. A white shirt—his shirt—hung loosely on her frame, the fabric stretched just enough to make him very aware of what was underneath. Her arms were tucked around his waist, cheek resting comfortably against his chest like she'd always belonged there.
"…Oh no," Luke muttered.
Esdeath lifted her head, pale blue eyes meeting his with unmistakable satisfaction. A slow smile curved her lips as she tightened her hold just a little.
"Good morning," she said softly.
Luke froze, fully awake now. "Why are you in my bed?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she shifted closer, fingers idly tracing the fabric of his shirt as if testing its texture.
"You didn't push me away," she replied softly. "So I stayed."
For half a second, there was nothing but that sentence hanging in the air.
Then—
BANG.
A bullet tore through the air and buried itself into the wall one centimeter above Luke's head, plaster exploding outward.
Luke didn't even flinch.
Esdeath, on the other hand, lifted her head again, eyes narrowing slightly—not startled, just… intrigued.
Jill stood in the doorway.
Gun raised.
"…Morning," she said.
Luke sighed, deeply. "Jill. We talked about not shooting inside the house."
"You talked," Jill corrected, lowering the gun just enough to glare at the blue-haired woman in his bed. "I listened. Didn't agree."
Esdeath glanced at the bullet hole, then at Jill, then smiled faintly. "That was meant to scare me?"
"It was meant to make a point," Jill replied. "Next one won't miss."
*****
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