The Cookie, the Aunt and the Outfit

Sayang strode in looking deeply displeased, a rolled-up newspaper already raised in her hand - fully prepared to discipline her irresponsible nephew.

That was, until she saw Quinn operating the vacuum.

Her irritation vanished instantly.

“Oh! Dearie! Look at you, doing the housework!”

Quinn froze.

For a split second she couldn’t decide which was more dangerous - the roaring machine in her hands or the elderly woman at the door. She instinctively lifted the nozzle toward Sayang, then thought better of it. Sucking up Sayang would almost certainly harm her chances of obtaining the cookie recipe.

She pressed the power button.

The howl died immediately.

Silence settled.

Then Sayang’s expression darkened.

She marched straight toward Jarel, still helpless on the couch.

Crack.

The newspaper came down on his head.

He yelped.

“What was that for?!”

Sayang sniffed.

“So you did forget.”

She jabbed a finger at him.

“You promised to return my container today.”

Jarel froze.

Oh.

Right.

He winced.

“Sorry, Aunty, I had a lot going on-”

She cut him off sharply.

“A demon moving into your apartment and trying to ruin your life is no excuse for not returning my container.”

“I’m sorry-”

She softened.

Slightly.

“Well. At least you enjoyed them.”

His stomach dropped.

They hadn’t actually finished them yet.

He stood quickly.

“I’ll get it for you-”

“Sit back down!”

Quinn’s voice cracked like a whip.

He obeyed instantly.

Sayang laughed.

“She’s got you under her thumb, poor dear.”

He nodded solemnly.

Quinn marched toward the kitchen.

“I’ll get it for you, Aunty!”

Sayang smiled warmly.

“Thank you, dearie.”

Quinn retrieved the tin from the pantry.

Immediately, she frowned.

The weight was wrong.

She popped it open.

“There’s still a cookie left!”

Sayang’s smile widened.

“You can eat it, dear.”

Jarel’s heart began to pound.

If she inhaled it the way she normally did, Sayang might take offence. She might revoke the recipe. She might-

The cookie vanished.

Crumbs dusted the floor and decorated Quinn’s lips.

She beamed.

“Thank you!”

Jarel braced for consequences.

None came.

Instead, Sayang giggled.

“I’m glad you like them so much.”

He stared in disbelief.

Had he eaten that last cookie in the same way, he’d still be nursing newspaper welts.

But all he could do was watch as Sayang accepted the container and turned toward the door.

With her hand on the handle, she paused.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Her smile turned sly.

“But for now, get some rest.”

She winked.

“Or… get some ‘rest,’ if you know what I mean.”

And she was gone.

Silence filled the apartment.

Quinn turned slowly toward Jarel.

“What did she mean by that?”

He shrugged, attempting innocence.

“I don’t know.”

She narrowed her eyes.

She absolutely did not believe him.

But she let it go.

Instead, she turned back toward the vacuum cleaner - and stopped a few steps away.

She stared at it.

One second.

Three.

He twisted around on the couch to face her.

“It can’t hurt you, by the way. Not anything bigger than a cockroach.”

She blinked.

Then looked at him, horrified.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He shrugged, suddenly a little embarrassed.

“You were cute.”

Her entire face lit up.

“That’s good!”

He blinked.

“What?”

“Looking at something cute is proven to increase laziness!”

He smiled helplessly.

“Oh. Right.”

Her grin radiated warmth, one silver ear twitching happily.

Then she marched back toward the vacuum cleaner and resumed her mission to achieve the perfect dust ratio.

Jarel lay on the couch in the same position as the previous night.

Quinn was still in the bedroom.

He had no idea what she was doing. She hadn’t said anything about the sleeping arrangements. That worried him more than it should have.

He hoped she would come out.

That she’d pad over again.

That she’d jump onto him and curl up with his arms around her.

As if summoned by the thought, the bedroom door creaked open.

He stilled.

Soft footsteps crossed the dark apartment. Her silhouette rounded the couch-

-and he froze.

She was not wearing her nightgown.

Instead, she was dressed in a black, semi-transparent babydoll that mercifully thickened in the necessary places.

He immediately covered his eyes.

“Quinn, what are you wearing?”

Her voice sparkled.

“Lingerie!”

His heart slammed against his ribs.

“Why?”

“It increases laziness!”

His heart very much disagreed.

“How?”

“Well, apparently when a pretty girl wears something like this, she and her partner sleep very well together.”

She clearly had no idea what that actually implied.

He groaned.

“Quinn… did you research this beyond that one sentence?”

“Nope!”

He sighed.

“Generally, only people who are romantically involved receive those… benefits.”

“Married?”

He nodded.

She hummed thoughtfully.

“Why wouldn’t it work if you’re not married?”

Still shielding his eyes, he pointed weakly at himself.

“Because it makes the other person far too nervous.”

She went quiet.

“Oh. Do you get nervous when you see me like this?”

He nodded rapidly.

“Very.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then suddenly, fingers hooked around his wrist and tugged his hand down.

“Stop doing that. I can’t see what you’re thinking.”

He didn’t know what she meant by that - and he wasn’t granted time to consider it.

Because now he could see.

The faint outline of her shape in the dark. The soft curve of her waist. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

His thoughts betrayed him instantly.

He looked up and met her eyes.

They weren’t triumphant.

They weren’t teasing.

They were uncertain.

“So that’s what it does…”

She stood there a moment longer.

Then she turned.

The fabric floated softly as she walked back to the bedroom.

The door closed.

Jarel covered his face with both hands.

She’d seen it.

No matter how hard he’d tried to stay respectful, she’d seen the desire flicker across his expression.

He didn’t know whether to blame himself or the article she’d read.

He didn’t expect the bedroom door to open again two minutes later.

But it did.

He lowered his hands.

She stepped out in her nightgown this time.

She approached slowly and stopped beside the couch, looking down at him. Even in the dark, her eyes shimmered.

When she spoke, her voice was soft.

“Is this better?”

The relief that washed through him was almost dizzying. Every scenario he’d feared in those two minutes dissolved instantly.

“It is.”

Her shoulders relaxed.

She smiled.

Then she climbed onto him gently, carefully this time. She curled against his chest, tail draped over his legs, head tucked beneath his chin.

He wrapped his arms around her.

Her ears twitched, brushing his skin.

No more words were needed.

And in the quiet darkness of their apartment, they fell asleep together on the couch.