“Welcome to the Hartwell homey hideout.” I flipped on the lights and entered a spacious two-bedroom unit. The stale smell of a room closed off for a couple of months filled my nose, making me feel at ease knowing I could find peace and solace in my humble abode with no one to bother me.
“I finally get to visit a friend’s house,” Deen said in an overly cheerful tone. You’d think she was on a luxury getaway. She dragged her luggage, pretending to have a hard time pulling the heavy bags—an act for anyone loitering in the hallway.
Maybe… a tiny bit of peace and solace.
Entertaining guests at my house was such a bothersome prospect that I scarcely invited any friends over, even as a kid. My house was supposed to be where I could relax and not think about faces. Being a dutiful daughter wasn’t taxing at all, mostly routine shit. And Dad and Mom were busy with work that they wouldn’t notice if I acted weirdly once in a while.
Friends visiting, especially staying overnight, would violate my sanctuary. But I didn’t have any choice with Deen.
She did drive me all the way here… and helped me murder some people. She deserved the famous Hartwell hospitality.
I could hear Mom’s voice in my head, telling me to check the fridge, if there were fresh linens, and if the pantry was stocked, all that stuff. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to clean up before you came,” I said, “because… we came here together.” We both chuckled.
“Your place looks, um, nice,” Deen awkwardly said, probably unsure how to compliment a friend’s home.
“Mom’s not great at interior decorating,” I said. “Though I think all her random knick-knacks give off personality. I’m not a fan of homes that look too neat and organized as if they’re on the cover of a home design magazine or something.”
“Erm, your mother has good taste with decorations.” She looked around the living room at the end of a short hallway from the entrance. “I really like the… blue elephant figurines,” she said, zeroing in on the first weird thing she saw.
I turned to hide my grin. It seemed like Deen was visiting a tribe in the backwaters, trying to adjust to my ‘culture.’
We stacked our bags in the living room and breathed a sigh of relief after I closed the door. We looked at each other again and laughed at our similar reactions. It had been a long night… and day, too.
“Is it okay if I take a shower?” Deen asked, trying to finger comb her hair, showing that its ends were still a bit sticky. She sniffed her hair and scrunched her nose. “Ugh, still reeks of blood.”
“Sure, no probs.” I fumbled with the set of keys Mom left with the property manager—I lost mine when my condo at La Esparanza got demolished. “I think this is the right one,” I said, leading Deen to the left door. “We have two rooms here. Mom’s staying there, and this is my room. Sorry for the mess.”
In contrast to the living room, which actually looked fine even though I said I hadn’t cleaned up, my room had been struck by a hurricane. I hurried to gather my clothes strewn here and there, remnants from when I packed up last December for La Esperanza. Thank the Mother Core, none of them were dirty. I also smoothened out the bedsheets and arranged the pillows.
Deen laughed at me trying my best to salvage my image as a respectable person. If I could go back in time, I’d punch past Erind for leaving this mess. While I fixed stuff, Deen strayed by my study table, checking the pictures.
“You were so cute as a kid,” she said, picking up the oldest photo.
Meaning I’m no longer cute as an adult? “Cute as in like size-wise or…?”
“Like in an adorable way.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Is this your dad with you?”
“Yeah, we were fishing when that picture was taken.” I hadn’t told her anything about my Dad, only that I was living with my Mom. Deen was scanning the other pictures on my table, probably noticing the lack of his presence past my childhood. Not sure what she was thinking, but I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Anyway, the two of us will be staying here. I’ll just roll out a mattress on the floor, and you’ll be on my bed. Then there’s the bathroom and—”
“You’ll sleep on the floor?” Deen stretched her arms to the side as she stood at the end of my bed. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”
“You’re the guest, so you get the bed,” I said matter-of-factly as if I’d done this a million times when in truth, I haven’t had anyone sleep over in my room before. My only reference was movies where the characters had a slumber party.
“I can sleep on the floor.”
“Amber Deen Leska on the floor?” I gasped overdramatically. “That’s a breach of royal etiquette!”
“I’m serious here,” she said, trying to pinch my sides. “Or just the two of us on the bed? I swear I don’t kick or do acrobatics while sleeping.”
I couldn’t tell her that I hated anyone on my bed, so my solution was to make my own separate bed. But yeah… it did look awkward as if I was intentionally avoiding her for no good reason. We were supposed to be best friends. And those slumber parties where only one person was on the bed did have small beds—mine was queen-sized.
What if she bites me? The memories of our car ride returned. The rough sensation of her sharp teeth on my earlobe, her slimy tongue forcing itself into—fucking gross. It felt good. Still gross.
“Okay, we’ll both sleep on the bed.” Separating our sides by lining the middle with throw pillows from the couch sounded like a good idea. That way, my side would be my bed, and I could sleep peacefully, knowing that I was alone in it. Hopefully, Deen wouldn’t do that weirdo shit she pulled in the car.
“Sleepover! Sleepover!” She did a little dance while cheering.
“Just take a bath already.”
“No news about what we did.” I’ve been flipping through local channels for the last ten minutes and didn’t see anything about our crimes. Too early? Might be several hours before someone reported about the burnt store if anyone would bother at all. Most people didn’t think about others.
Knocking on the drywall. “Excuse me, Erind…”
I looked over my shoulder. Deen’s upper body—naked and wet except for the shirt she held to cover her breasts—peeked from the corner leading to the bedrooms. “What is it?” Did the water run out? Was the toilet clogged? Gonna be embarrassing if it was.
“Uh, can I borrow towels?”
I almost slapped my head—here I was, disparaging other people for not thinking about others. “Oh my gosh! Sorry, I forgot. I’ll get them!”
Deen was packing towels before we left her home. I told her I had towels at my condo, but she still did it anyway. We used those when we cleaned up after our little detour in the desert. And now Deen didn’t have towels because I was such a useless host.
I didn’t have a clue where Mom kept the towels, so I tore into drawers and closets of my room looking for them while naked Deen watched me from the bathroom door, laughing her pretty head off. I told her to wait inside, or she’d get a cold, but she wouldn’t listen.
“Here you go.” I shoved the towel at her, pushing her back into the bathroom to bring down the R-Rating of the house. She no longer bothered to cover her bouncy bumpers, getting too comfortable around here.
My eyes probably lingered too long on her chest because she commented, “What are you looking at?”
“Two things that are very hard to ignore,” I grumbled. “And may I remind you that you’re naked? You seemed to have forgotten that.”
“Nuh-uh, I didn’t.” Instead of wrapping the towel around her body, she just held it against her stomach like a rolled-up hoodie on a hot day. At least, its end fell between her legs. “I was thinking… I have seen you naked already.”
Was she talking about the grenade incident? “More than naked,” I replied, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “My skin was burned off, so you saw my muscles and—”
“Don’t be so morbid. I’m saying that I saw you naked already, so it’s fine if you see me naked. Like we’re sisters, so this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Whatever you say,” I sighed, not having the energy to argue with her nonsense. I grabbed her waist and turned her around. “Get back in there. I’m next. You’re not the only person here who wants a shower.”
Looking over her shoulder, she stuck her tongue out at me but didn’t resist.
I rolled my eyes at her. Then my gaze traveled down her back and rested on her ass. Two halves of a marshmallow globe. It jiggled a bit when she shuffled across the bathroom floor tiles. Don’t slap it, don’t slap it, don’t slap it, don’t slap it—Hearing a giggle, I looked back up at her.
She had a smirk on her face. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing!” I slammed the door on her smug face.
Temple I'm tweaking what happened when Erind and Deen came to the Vegas condo. We can get many spin-off chapters here, so pardon the dimensional shift of changing the events. Just think that SpookyErind has something to do with it.
Advanced chapters of main story and Erind x Deen on Patreon. Thanks to all patrons, especially Purple Bloom tier Wan
Read my other story: Getting Hard - a litrpg on building a tank
Join our Discord
“Welcome to the Hartwell homey hideout.” I flipped on the lights and entered a spacious two-bedroom unit. The stale smell of a room closed off for a couple of months filled my nose, making me feel at ease knowing I could find peace and solace in my humble abode with no one to bother me.
“I finally get to visit a friend’s house,” Deen said in an overly cheerful tone. You’d think she was on a luxury getaway. She dragged her luggage, pretending to have a hard time pulling the heavy bags—an act for anyone loitering in the hallway.
Maybe… a tiny bit of peace and solace.
Entertaining guests at my house was such a bothersome prospect that I scarcely invited any friends over, even as a kid. My house was supposed to be where I could relax and not think about faces. Being a dutiful daughter wasn’t taxing at all, mostly routine shit. And Dad and Mom were busy with work that they wouldn’t notice if I acted weirdly once in a while.
Friends visiting, especially staying overnight, would violate my sanctuary. But I didn’t have any choice with Deen.
She did drive me all the way here… and helped me murder some people. She deserved the famous Hartwell hospitality.
I could hear Mom’s voice in my head, telling me to check the fridge, if there were fresh linens, and if the pantry was stocked, all that stuff. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to clean up before you came,” I said, “because… we came here together.” We both chuckled.
“Your place looks, um, nice,” Deen awkwardly said, probably unsure how to compliment a friend’s home.
“Mom’s not great at interior decorating,” I said. “Though I think all her random knick-knacks give off personality. I’m not a fan of homes that look too neat and organized as if they’re on the cover of a home design magazine or something.”
“Erm, your mother has good taste with decorations.” She looked around the living room at the end of a short hallway from the entrance. “I really like the… blue elephant figurines,” she said, zeroing in on the first weird thing she saw.
I turned to hide my grin. It seemed like Deen was visiting a tribe in the backwaters, trying to adjust to my ‘culture.’
We stacked our bags in the living room and breathed a sigh of relief after I closed the door. We looked at each other again and laughed at our similar reactions. It had been a long night… and day, too.
“Is it okay if I take a shower?” Deen asked, trying to finger comb her hair, showing that its ends were still a bit sticky. She sniffed her hair and scrunched her nose. “Ugh, still reeks of blood.”
“Sure, no probs.” I fumbled with the set of keys Mom left with the property manager—I lost mine when my condo at La Esparanza got demolished. “I think this is the right one,” I said, leading Deen to the left door. “We have two rooms here. Mom’s staying there, and this is my room. Sorry for the mess.”
In contrast to the living room, which actually looked fine even though I said I hadn’t cleaned up, my room had been struck by a hurricane. I hurried to gather my clothes strewn here and there, remnants from when I packed up last December for La Esperanza. Thank the Mother Core, none of them were dirty. I also smoothened out the bedsheets and arranged the pillows.
Deen laughed at me trying my best to salvage my image as a respectable person. If I could go back in time, I’d punch past Erind for leaving this mess. While I fixed stuff, Deen strayed by my study table, checking the pictures.
“You were so cute as a kid,” she said, picking up the oldest photo.
Meaning I’m no longer cute as an adult? “Cute as in like size-wise or…?”
“Like in an adorable way.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Is this your dad with you?”
“Yeah, we were fishing when that picture was taken.” I hadn’t told her anything about my Dad, only that I was living with my Mom. Deen was scanning the other pictures on my table, probably noticing the lack of his presence past my childhood. Not sure what she was thinking, but I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Anyway, the two of us will be staying here. I’ll just roll out a mattress on the floor, and you’ll be on my bed. Then there’s the bathroom and—”
“You’ll sleep on the floor?” Deen stretched her arms to the side as she stood at the end of my bed. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”
“You’re the guest, so you get the bed,” I said matter-of-factly as if I’d done this a million times when in truth, I haven’t had anyone sleep over in my room before. My only reference was movies where the characters had a slumber party.
“I can sleep on the floor.”
“Amber Deen Leska on the floor?” I gasped overdramatically. “That’s a breach of royal etiquette!”
“I’m serious here,” she said, trying to pinch my sides. “Or just the two of us on the bed? I swear I don’t kick or do acrobatics while sleeping.”
I couldn’t tell her that I hated anyone on my bed, so my solution was to make my own separate bed. But yeah… it did look awkward as if I was intentionally avoiding her for no good reason. We were supposed to be best friends. And those slumber parties where only one person was on the bed did have small beds—mine was queen-sized.
What if she bites me? The memories of our car ride returned. The rough sensation of her sharp teeth on my earlobe, her slimy tongue forcing itself into—fucking gross. It felt good. Still gross.
“Okay, we’ll both sleep on the bed.” Separating our sides by lining the middle with throw pillows from the couch sounded like a good idea. That way, my side would be my bed, and I could sleep peacefully, knowing that I was alone in it. Hopefully, Deen wouldn’t do that weirdo shit she pulled in the car.
“Sleepover! Sleepover!” She did a little dance while cheering.
“Just take a bath already.”
“No news about what we did.” I’ve been flipping through local channels for the last ten minutes and didn’t see anything about our crimes. Too early? Might be several hours before someone reported about the burnt store if anyone would bother at all. Most people didn’t think about others.
Knocking on the drywall. “Excuse me, Erind…”
I looked over my shoulder. Deen’s upper body—naked and wet except for the shirt she held to cover her breasts—peeked from the corner leading to the bedrooms. “What is it?” Did the water run out? Was the toilet clogged? Gonna be embarrassing if it was.
“Uh, can I borrow towels?”
I almost slapped my head—here I was, disparaging other people for not thinking about others. “Oh my gosh! Sorry, I forgot. I’ll get them!”
Deen was packing towels before we left her home. I told her I had towels at my condo, but she still did it anyway. We used those when we cleaned up after our little detour in the desert. And now Deen didn’t have towels because I was such a useless host.
I didn’t have a clue where Mom kept the towels, so I tore into drawers and closets of my room looking for them while naked Deen watched me from the bathroom door, laughing her pretty head off. I told her to wait inside, or she’d get a cold, but she wouldn’t listen.
“Here you go.” I shoved the towel at her, pushing her back into the bathroom to bring down the R-Rating of the house. She no longer bothered to cover her bouncy bumpers, getting too comfortable around here.
My eyes probably lingered too long on her chest because she commented, “What are you looking at?”
“Two things that are very hard to ignore,” I grumbled. “And may I remind you that you’re naked? You seemed to have forgotten that.”
“Nuh-uh, I didn’t.” Instead of wrapping the towel around her body, she just held it against her stomach like a rolled-up hoodie on a hot day. At least, its end fell between her legs. “I was thinking… I have seen you naked already.”
Was she talking about the grenade incident? “More than naked,” I replied, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “My skin was burned off, so you saw my muscles and—”
“Don’t be so morbid. I’m saying that I saw you naked already, so it’s fine if you see me naked. Like we’re sisters, so this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Whatever you say,” I sighed, not having the energy to argue with her nonsense. I grabbed her waist and turned her around. “Get back in there. I’m next. You’re not the only person here who wants a shower.”
Looking over her shoulder, she stuck her tongue out at me but didn’t resist.
I rolled my eyes at her. Then my gaze traveled down her back and rested on her ass. Two halves of a marshmallow globe. It jiggled a bit when she shuffled across the bathroom floor tiles. Don’t slap it, don’t slap it, don’t slap it, don’t slap it—Hearing a giggle, I looked back up at her.
She had a smirk on her face. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing!” I slammed the door on her smug face.
Temple I'm tweaking what happened when Erind and Deen came to the Vegas condo. We can get many spin-off chapters here, so pardon the dimensional shift of changing the events. Just think that SpookyErind has something to do with it.
Advanced chapters of main story and Erind x Deen on Patreon. Thanks to all patrons, especially Purple Bloom tier Wan
Read my other story: Getting Hard - a litrpg on building a tank
Join our Discord
