Epilogue

Jarel climbed the stairs to his apartment, each step surprisingly light.

They could barely be called steps, his movements almost graceful. One foot, then the other, flowing with the ease of a practiced performer. A cheap, transparent plastic bag hung from his shoulder, containing nothing more than an empty container. His hair, nearly jet-black, was left messy, untouched from when he’d woken up. His brown eyes shone for no obvious reason, drifting from his steps to the wallpaper, to the smallest details of his surroundings.

He didn’t fit any clear mold. Not today.

When the door of the neighboring apartment opened without warning, he lifted his gaze just in time to see a short elderly lady standing there, smiling warmly.

“Hello, dear. How was your trip?”

He smiled back, genuine.

“Calling it a trip is a bit much, don’t you think, Aunty?”

She wasn’t actually his aunt - but she insisted, and he wasn’t about to argue. Especially considering who she was.

She chuckled.

“Alright then. How was your outing?”

“Very good.”

“And how are Jinxia and Gerald?”

Jarel paused for a fraction of a second, remembering where he’d been - and what he wished he hadn’t seen.

“They’re doing very well.”

Her smile deepened.

“That’s good to hear.”

Then, as if conjured from thin air, she produced a small box and held it out to him.

“Here. Give this to Quinn. She’ll know what to do.”

He accepted it carefully - wrapped in ribbon, topped with a bow - handling it like something fragile.

“You’re too kind, Aunty.”

She waved him off.

“Nonsense. Now, I’d invite you inside, but you’ll be wanting to get home.”

Her eyes softened.

“It was nice to talk to you, dear.”

He nodded.

“Thank you, Aunty. And thank you too, Mahalina. I’ll return the box tomorrow.”

“You better. Or I’ll send you to Hell.”

She winked, then closed the door with a giggle.

Jarel glanced down at the box in his hands, then continued along the walkway to his own apartment. He pushed the door open without unlocking it - because it was never locked.

The sound of cooking greeted him. Then the smell - something far beyond what ordinary humans could produce.

He stepped inside with a smile.

A short entryway, a cupboard set into the wall. To the left, a compact kitchen - small, but never suffocating. Beyond it, a dining table. Further in, a modest living area with a couch, coffee table, and TV. To the right, two doors: bathroom, then bedroom.

It wasn’t much.

But it was more than enough.

He kicked off his shoes and padded inside, setting the bag by the entrance. Turning toward the kitchen, he found her.

A girl.

And a pretty one at that.

A fair bit shorter than him, maybe a head or so, with long, flowing silver hair. But that was where things stopped being normal.

Her eyes were a brilliant, sparkling red. A pair of fluffy ears - wolf-like - rose from her head, matching her hair in color. A tail swayed lazily behind her, emerging from a dark, sleeveless knit turtleneck sweater that hugged her figure, emphasized her bust, and cut off at mid-thigh. It was entirely possible she had nothing else on beneath it, but thankfully he knew better.

He smiled.

“I’m back, Quinn.”

She turned, her eyes lighting up instantly as her tail began to wag.

“Welcome home, Jarel! How was the walk?”

He set Sayang’s box on the kitchen island.

“Very good.”

She nodded toward it as he pulled the empty container from his bag.

“What’s in there?”

He set the empty one beside it, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair.

“Aunty said you’d know what to do.”

Her smile widened, fangs peeking through.

“Oh, it’s her-”

She cut herself off, clapping a hand over her mouth before she could finish. A giggle slipped out as she turned back to the pot.

“I can’t tell you that.”

He grinned.

“Not even to your husband?”

She shook her head, smiling just as mischievously.

“Not even to my husband. Now go have a bath, I ran it for you.”

He blinked.

“You did?”

She laughed, glancing back at him through half-lidded eyes.

“It’s what’s leftover from mine.”

His grin didn’t falter.

“What kind of man do you think I am?”

She turned back to her cooking - Mexican-style mince with nachos. Or, at least, that's what it looked like.

“The kind who enjoys bathing in his wife’s bathwater, evidently.”

A sigh hovered on his lips. Instead, he picked his jacket back up, carried it to the unused bedroom, and hung it neatly in the wardrobe.

Then he turned toward the bathroom.

She really had left it for him.

He stared at the bath for a moment. Then, without changing a thing, he turned on the tap.

Too cold.

He nudged it up. Too hot.

Back down. Too cold again.

It took a solid half minute to get it right - just a little hotter than usual, enough to bring the water already in the tub back up to temperature. Thanks to Quinn, the low water pressure didn’t matter, and within a minute the bath was ready.

He stripped down and climbed in.

It was perfect.

Warm. Soothing. Simple.

That was enough.

Only then did he realize he’d forgotten to close the door. He groaned, but didn’t move to fix it. Leaving it open would please Quinn - and besides, it was kind of her fault he’d forgotten in the first place.

So he relaxed instead, listening to the soft sounds of his wife cooking.

She was humming again.

A tune he didn’t recognize. It was entirely possible it wasn’t even from Earth.

His thoughts drifted, slow and unhurried, until the world faded into the warmth around him.

He didn’t even notice the extractor fan winding down.

“Are you ready?”

His eyes snapped open.

Quinn stood over him, completely unfazed by his lack of clothes. He let out a long breath.

“Oh, Quinn… I thought it might’ve been Aunty or something…”

She giggled.

“Of course not, silly. Now come on, let me clean you.”

He obeyed without question, sitting on the stool as water dripped from his skin. A brief flash of white light behind him told him what he'd see if he decided to turn around.

A moment later, her hands found his back.

Small. Gentle.

He shivered as they traced down his spine, lathering him with soap. His eyes closed again, letting the sensation wash over him.

At some point, he sighed.

“You don’t have to do all this for me. I’m perfectly capable.”

She hummed softly.

“We agreed to this, remember?”

He nodded.

“Yeah, I just feel-”

She shushed him.

“No. You feel nothing. Only the feeling of me.”

She pressed herself lightly against his back.

He nodded quickly.

“Okay.”

Her quiet chuckle told him she was smiling, and then she returned to her work - thorough, attentive, unhurried.

This time, it wasn’t just her hands.

He stayed silent, letting it happen, only opening his eyes when he felt a soft weight settle in his lap.

There she was, arms wrapped around his neck.

The only thing she wore was a thin silver chain, a small black heart resting against her chest.

She smiled - until she noticed his gaze.

“Hey, close your eyes again.”

He obeyed.

“Thank you.”

The world faded back to touch and sound.

She cleaned his face now, more carefully than necessary, her fingers gentle as they traced his features.

Eventually, she patted his shoulder.

“You can get back in the bath now.”

He opened his eyes. One look told him she wasn’t going to budge.

So he stood, lifting her with him. She was light. Effortless.

She didn’t let go until he’d settled back into the water.

“You can close your eyes again.”

He did.

She rinsed him, shifting around in the tight space, managing despite the lack of room.

Eventually, his skin was clean - so clean it almost felt new.

Quinn moved behind him.

He felt her legs slip past his sides.

Her voice softened.

“Lean into me.”

He did.

Her arms wrapped around him, guiding him back until they were both at ease. His head rested beneath her chin, her soaked tail draped lazily across his thigh beneath the water.

In a few minutes, his stomach would growl.

They’d laugh.

They’d get out.

They’d eat dinner together.

But for now, they stayed like that - wrapped in warmth, in quiet, in each other.

Neither of them had truly achieved what they first set out to do.

But somehow, they had found something far better.

And that was more than enough.