The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

My chest ached.

Not from the slap. Not from the shoves that came before it.

From the look on her face. From the way her expression had shattered into something raw and exposed that I had no business seeing and no idea how to fix. The Oracle Feed was silent in the corner of my vision. No helpful commentary. No tactical reads. Just me and the wreckage I had made of this.

"You are special to me," I said. The words felt inadequate the moment they left my mouth. Too small. Too careful. Like trying to describe an explosion as a spark.

"Bullshit." Her voice cracked on the word. The sound hit me harder than her palm had.

"I’m not lying."

"Then why?" She dropped her hands. Stepped back. Put space between us that felt like a wall going up in real time. Her blue eyes were red and swollen from crying. The sight of it made something twist in my stomach. "Why would you go to her right after being with me? Why would you choose her over me?"

The question hung there. Direct. Unavoidable. The kind of question that demanded an answer I didn’t have in any form that would make this better.

"I didn’t choose her over you."

"That’s exactly what you did." She said it like a fact. Like something already proven. Like evidence she had reviewed and filed under What Lukas Actually Is.

"No." I grabbed her shoulders before she could pull further away. Held her still when she tried to twist out of my grip. Her skin was warm under my hands. Real. Present. Everything about this moment was too real. "Listen to me. I didn’t choose her over you. I chose both of you."

"That’s not a real answer." She was shaking. I could feel it under my hands. The tremor of someone who had used up all their volume and had nothing left but the truth underneath it.

"It’s the only answer I have."

"Then it’s not good enough."

"I know." I did. It wasn’t. Nothing I could say here was going to be good enough because the situation itself wasn’t good enough and I had walked into it anyway. Because the System had given me missions and I had completed them and somewhere in that process I had stopped thinking about what completion actually meant for the people who weren’t me.

She stopped struggling. Just stood there trembling in my grip. Her hands had fallen to her sides. The fight had gone out of her all at once. "Did you tell her you loved her?"

Fuck.

The word sat in my throat like broken glass. I could feel every angle of it. Every way it would cut on the way out.

"Answer me, Lukas. Did you tell my mom you loved her?"

"She told me she loved me."

"That’s not what I asked."

I didn’t answer.

Sloane’s face crumpled. The last of her composure gave out all at once. "You did. You told her you loved her."

"Sloane—"

"Do you love me?"

The question cut through everything else. Cut through the deflection and the careful non-answers and the space I had been trying to maintain between what I felt and what I was willing to admit I felt.

"Yes," I said.

"Liar."

"I’m not lying."

"You can’t love both of us, Lukas. That’s not how it works."

"Why not?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Why can’t I love both of you?"

"Because—" She stopped. Opened her mouth. Closed it. "Because you just can’t. People don’t do that."

"Some people do."

"Not normal people."

"When have we ever been normal?"

Her hands were still pressed against my chest. Not pushing anymore. Just resting there. I could feel her heartbeat through her palms.

"This is insane," she whispered.

"Yeah."

"You’re asking me to share you with my mother."

"I’m asking you not to make me choose."

"That’s the same thing."

"It’s not."

"Lukas—"

I kissed her.

She froze. Made a sound in the back of her throat that could have been protest or surrender. Then her hands fisted in my hair and she kissed me back like she was drowning and I was air.

When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

"I hate you," she said against my mouth.

"I know."

"I should punch you in the face."

"You already slapped me."

"That wasn’t enough."

"Probably not."

She kissed me again. Harder this time. Angrier. Her teeth caught my bottom lip and bit down just shy of painful.

I groaned.

She pulled back. "You’re an asshole."

"Agreed."

"And a liar."

"Sometimes."

"And you’re trying to manipulate me into accepting something I should never accept."

"Probably."

"Stop agreeing with me. It makes it harder to stay mad."

"Good."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think this is funny?"

"No. I think it’s fucked up. But I also think you don’t actually want to lose me."

"I shouldn’t want you at all."

"But you do."

"Shut up."

I grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the counter. She gasped. Her legs parted automatically and I stepped between them.

"Lukas."

"Tell me to stop."

She didn’t.

I kissed her jaw. Her throat. The spot just below her ear that made her shiver.

"You’re playing dirty," she breathed.

"I learned from the best."

"This doesn’t fix anything."

"I know."

"I’m still mad."

"I know."

Her hands slid down my chest. Over my abs. Lower.

"Lukas."

"Yeah?"

"If I agree to this—" She stopped. Swallowed hard. "If I agree to try this insane thing you’re suggesting, you don’t get to pick her over me. Ever. You understand?"

"I understand."

"I’m not your second choice."

"You were never my second choice."

"Promise me."

I pulled back enough to look at her. "I promise."

She searched my face. Looking for the lie. Looking for any sign that I was full of shit.

I let her look.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Don’t make me say it twice." She pulled me back down and kissed me again. Softer this time. Less angry. More Sloane.

My hands found her thighs. Her skin was warm and smooth. She made a small sound when I squeezed.

"Not in the kitchen," she muttered.

"Why not?"

"Because Mom eats here."

"So?"

"So it’s weird."

"Everything about this is weird, babe."

"Don’t remind me."

I kissed her again. Let my hands slide higher. Under her shirt. Over her ribs. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

She gasped when I found her breast. "Lukas."

"Hmm?"

"Take me upstairs."

"Ask nicely."

"I’ll knee you in the balls."

I laughed. Actually laughed. The sound surprised both of us.

Sloane’s expression softened. "There you are."

"What?"

"You. The real you. Not the guy trying to convince me of something." She traced her thumb over my cheek where she’d slapped me. "Just Lukas."

My chest tightened.

"Take me upstairs," she said again. Quieter this time. "Please."

I lifted her off the counter. She wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.

"You’re heavy," I lied.

"Shut the hell up."

I carried her toward the stairs.

The french toast sat abandoned on the table. The orange juice was getting warm. The whole kitchen smelled like strawberries and cinnamon.

Sloane pressed her face into my neck. "I really do hate you sometimes."

"I know."

"But I love you more."

My foot hit the first stair.

"Say it back," she whispered.

"I love you too."

"Liar."

"Not this time."

She kissed my neck. "Prove it."

I carried her up to her room and kicked the door shut behind us.

The System chimed.

[MAIN QUEST UPDATE: Sloane Fitzgerald reconciliation successful. Integration framework accepted. Progress: 2/2. Final objective pending.]