Morbidly Yours

by Ivy Fairbanks

I may be spontaneous enough to pick up and move my life for a job in another country on short notice, but I’m savvy enough to brush up on the local crime rate before inadvertently signing a lease in a seedy part of town.

“I’m being nosy.” She exhaled a nervous titter. “I was a little freaked out when I noticed what they were. It gave me this wild idea you were about to slaughter all your guests or something. Ridiculous, right?” “No need to worry. They’re all already d-dead.”

“Spirited Away. An anime masterpiece. That’s the movie that made me say, ‘I have to be an animator.’ Basically, I want to be like Hayao Miyazaki and create immersive dream worlds, too.”

“Know what else I like?” he said, derailing my guilt again. “My grotesquely sweet snacks. Admit it.” “The way you make the world more colorful. I don’t think I realized how much I needed it until we met. Not just your job, you. There’s so much sadness in this world and you seem to always be spreading joy through it.”

“Everything changes in this world. Not always for the worse. Wounds heal, if you let them.”

Wind whipped Lark’s hair in front of her face. I tucked it behind her ear. “You don’t need to pretend. I want to share in your happiness and in your sorrow.”

Silently, I pulled her slackened body to my chest and held her as the sobs began. Murmuring reassurances, I kissed her hair as Lark clung to my tear-soaked shirt. “I’m here, love.”

By now, I knew what she liked. I may not be very experienced, but I’m a fast study and Lark’s pleasure was my favorite subject. She liked being licked softly and fucked hard. Eye contact excited her when she went down on me. Speaking Irish always got her insanely aroused. Straddling my body—so much larger than her own—made her feel powerful.

Caught in the moment and sex-hazed, I whispered to her in words I meant with all my soul. “Grá mo chroí. Mo chuisle mo chroí.” Love of my heart. Pulse of my heart.

My mind flashed to his cruel sneer. She could beat him, of course, but I didn’t trust him to play fair. “That’s my girl.”