The curry was gone. The plates were empty. We ate in a silence that felt different on her side of the table than on mine. For her, it was comfortable, intimate. For me, it was data collection.
She stood to clear the table. Her movements were smooth, practiced, the motions of someone who'd done this in a lot of different kitchens, for a lot of different reasons, but never with this particular quiet certainty.
When she brought me a glass of water, her fingers brushed mine. She let them linger, just for a heartbeat, before pulling away. She didn't ask if she was my girlfriend. She didn't have to. Her entire body was answering the question for her.
"You should rest," I said, my voice neutral. A test. "You don't have to do all this."
She smiled, a soft, private thing as she stacked the dishes. "I can handle it. Besides," she added, glancing at the sink, "if I do them now, I can just relax after."
I noted it. The seamless assumption of domestic labor. She wasn't playing the role of the woman of the house, she was quietly annexing the position.
My phone buzzed on the table. A single, sharp vibration.
I picked it up.
Kelly Thorn – 8:47 PM
Subject: Vendor Reconciliation – Q3
Terrence, please review the attached before EOD tomorrow. The figures from logistics need cross-referencing. Bring any discrepancies to my desk first thing.
The language was dry, corporate, flawless. Late, but not unheard of. TitanForge paid for our time, and sometimes that time included Monday nights.
I typed a reply, my thumbs moving with the same detached efficiency I used for everything now.
Got it. I'll review tonight and have it on your desk by 8 AM. – Terrence
I looked up. Yuri was watching me from the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water.
"Work?" she asked, her voice gentle.
"Work," I confirmed. "I'll be in the room. Need to sort something out on the laptop."
She nodded, that soft smile returning. "Okay. I'll join you when I'm done here."
I took my glass and walked to the bedroom.
The laptop booted up with a soft whir. I opened Kelly's email, downloaded the attachment, and scanned it.
A vendor reconciliation sheet. Basic data alignment. Cross-referencing two columns. A task so straightforward it could have been handled by an intern on a coffee break.
She hadn't sent it because it was urgent, she'd sent it because she wanted a reason to see me at her desk first thing in the morning.
A faint smirk touched my lips.
I leaned back on the headboard of the bed, the glow of the screen painting the room in a pale blue light. I began aligning the columns, the work mindless, mechanical. My fingers moved on autopilot while my mind mapped the board.
Kelly. A lever, not yet pulled. A move for tomorrow.
The bedroom door opened. Yuri padded in, her steps soft on the carpet. She went straight to the wardrobe, pulled out a fresh towel, and—without hesitation—began to undress.
There was no performative shyness, no asking for permission. In her mind, this was her space now. The skirt came off, then the tee, then the socks. She folded each item neatly on the edge of the bed, movements routine, domestic. I watched, not with desire, but with clinical observation.
My pulse didn't quicken. My breath didn't catch. I noted the lack of reaction the same way I noted the time.
She wrapped the towel around herself and slipped into the bathroom.
I returned to the spreadsheet until the numbers blurred into clean, logical patterns.
When she came out, her skin was flushed pink, hair damp at the ends. She went back to the wardrobe, took one of my plain black tees—it swallowed her frame—and pulled it on. The hem brushed mid-thigh.
Without a word, she crawled into bed beside me, settling against the pillows with a soft, tired sigh. A sigh of belonging.
I kept working. The click of the keys was the only sound.
After a few minutes, she shifted. "Still busy, huh?"
I nodded, eyes on the screen. "Mhm."
"Okay," she murmured.
Her thoughts slipped into the quiet, faint but clear—a hesitant, wanting whisper: {I just… wish he'd look at me. Just for a minute. Not even to talk. Just… to see me.}
She didn't say it aloud. She just lay there, wearing my shirt, in my bed, waiting for a signal that wouldn't come.
---
Within minutes, her breathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep.
I finished aligning the columns, saved the file, and shut the laptop. The room went dark, save for the faint streetlight glow through the blinds. A heavy fatigue settled into my muscles, dense and unfamiliar.
Why am I so tired?
Then it clicked.
Right. I had sex.
Not an emotional event. A physiological expenditure. A system resource drain.
My phone again chimed on the nightstand.
I picked it up.
Grace – 10:23 PM
So… did I pass the vibe check? 😏
DES lit up immediately, overlaying the text with cold, strategic analysis:
> Incoming Social Engagement
Recommended Actions:
1. Reply Now (Playful/Challenging): "You're getting warmer. Try again tomorrow."
Effect: Sustains engagement, reinforces mystery, maintains psychological pull.
2. Ignore Until Morning:
Effect: Communicates higher value, induces mild anxiety/anticipation, resets power balance.
3. Minimal Acknowledge (Late): "Not yet. But you're interesting." – Send at 11:59 PM.
Effect: Controls timing, frames interest as conditional, asserts dominance over her attention.
Option 2. Always Option 2.
I placed the phone back on the nightstand, screen down. The room was silent again.
I turned my head. Yuri was curled on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, my tee rumpled around her shoulders. Peaceful. Claimed.
DES painted her sleeping form with a quiet, persistent tag:
> Target: Yuri Akeno.
Loyalty Metric: 90%.
Status: Asleep / Secure.
Emotional Baseline: Contentment (Elevated). Attachment Protocols Active.
Note: Co-habitation imprint solidified. Target now operates within user's domestic sphere as primary emotional anchor.
I lay back in the dark, the ceiling a blank screen.
One asset slept beside me, her loyalty woven into the sheets.
Another was manufacturing reasons to summon me to her desk at dawn.
And a third was staring at a phone that refused to light up.
The board wasn't just crowded.
It was mine.
And the best part?
They were putting the pieces in place themselves.
---
To be continued...