Sunlight spills through the tall arched windows of Ruby's mansion, gilding the breakfast table in a haze of gold. The room feels vast yet intimate, high ceilings echoing the faint chirp of birds outside, marble floors cool underfoot even through my slippers.
Ruby sits across from me, her silhouette sharp against the light, dark hair loose and catching the dawn like threads of shadow woven with fire. She moves with quiet purpose, buttering a slice of toast as if the act demands her full attention.
My plate holds a modest spread: fluffy scrambled eggs flecked with chives, their creamy warmth steaming faintly; crisp bacon strips curled at the edges, glistening with fat; and a halved avocado, its pale green flesh scooped with a spoon, drizzled in olive oil that pools like liquid emerald.
I spear a piece of bacon first, the crunch giving way to salty savour, chasing it with eggs that melt soft and rich on my tongue. The flavours ground me amid the opulence—simple, grounding, alive.
Nearby, a silver tray offers fresh berries: strawberries ruby-red and glistening, blueberries dusted with dew, raspberries tumbling in soft clusters. Ruby selects a strawberry, holding it briefly before biting, juice staining her fingertip crimson.
I mirror her, the tart burst flooding my mouth, sweet acid cutting through the eggs' comfort. Sliced mango waits beside it, golden flesh fibrous and perfumed, its tropical edge clashing beautifully with the bacon's smoke.
The air carries notes of brewed coffee from the pot between us, dark and robust, mingling with toasted bread and faint citrus from the fruit. I pour a cup, steam curling upward, and sip slowly, the bitterness balancing the meal's richness. Ruby's gaze drifts to the window, where morning mist clings to manicured gardens, but her hand steadies on her fork, spearing a raspberry with precision.
Outside, dew sparkles on rosebushes, the world waking in hushed tones. My plate empties bit by bit—last bites of avocado slick with egg remnants, a final berry chased by coffee's warmth. Ruby sets her napkin down first, the soft fold breaking the silence like a breath held too long.
The light shifts higher, bathing us in shared stillness, the mansion's quiet wrapping around the moment like a secret kept between sunrise and us.
"You took an hour to bath. Do you have to say something for yourself?" Ruby put the fork on the table, looking at me with a smile.
I shrugged, "I was dirty, Ruby. You should at least know that."
"Dirty? You smell like milk and strawberries all the time. I am pretty sure you don't need to bath," Ruby smirked. Her words made me smile a bit.
"You are very flirty, aren't you?" I gave her a teasing smile.
Ruby's eyebrows lifted at my words. "Flirty? Maybe, but my flirty side is only for you."
I finished the glass of pineapple juice, and put the glass on the table. "Ruby, answer my question, will you? What are you?" I asked her.
"So, you need me to answer this question?" Ruby smiled at me.
I nodded, "Ruby, I am not requesting you," my eyes hardened, "I am ordering you."
Ruby leaned back on her chair, hands over her chest. The sunrays made her face look ethereal. For a moment, I was mesmerized by her face, but I immediately calmed myself down.
"You are very bossy, Sharon. First, you gave me a dick. Second, you used me. And finally, you are asking me questions. Wow, Sharon... I am impressed."
I glared at her. "I am the one who got fucked. My body is aching. Yet, you dare to accuse me?" I hissed.
Ruby laughed, "You will be the death of me, won't you? Just by a single look, I fell in love with you," she tapped her fingers on the table, "Sharon, I will tell you. I am not a human, which you were completely right about."
I sighed, "Great. So, what are you? Tell me, Ruby. I will give you a blowjob if you answer my questions."
Ruby gave me an incredulous look. "You will give me a blowjob?! To make me answer your questions?!" A smirk appeared on her lips. "Fine, I will answer me everything, honey. But Sharon, I have a question—what would you have done if I refused your offer?"
"My fists would have offered you something. And I am pretty sure; you don't want to let my fists do all the talking. I am a bit violent—maybe more violent now-a-days," I warned her.
Ruby smirked, "Is that so? Then, I am glad that I took your offer—pleasure along with me remaining intact." Her face looked extremely smug. "I am... er, was a task-worker, someone who did some tasks in a particular world. Also, I was a fox spirit before becoming a human. You just felt my residual aura, though I am still not a human."
A task-worker?
What the heck is she saying?!
"Wait. You used to do tasks before?!" I exclaimed, almost standing up from my seat. Her words were shattering my every belief. My entire body trembled with a mixture of shock, excitement, and fear.
What the fuck!
Ruby revered in my shock as she gave me a small nod. She smiled at me sweetly. "Yes, I was. I worked for 'The Bureau of Worlds' Regulation.' I wasn't a direct employee. I worked in one of their subsidiaries." She lowered her gaze. "There are a lot of control agencies in this multiverse. And I worked for one of them indirectly." She met my gaze with a serious expression.
"How many are there?" I asked her. My voice was barely above a whisper. Suddenly, I was feeling that the sunrays burned my face. "Ruby, tell me! Are you a quick transmigrator?!"
Ruby shook her head and denied. "No, I am not like them. Those people are like high-level people. They are the ones who can change the course of a world. But us? We keep the world on its original track."