Limitless Evolution As a Snake

"There’s a lot of snake stuff in the city. People keep them as pets, or, um... other things. I like them. I mean, I like you."

She claps a hand over her mouth, mortified. "That’s not what I mean. Oh my god, can I die instead?"

"Oh, so you don’t like me? I’m sad now."

"Nooo!!! I meant ehhh, I do like you!"

My head dips in a slow nod. "You’re fine. Promise."

"I’ll, uh, make you some food," she faltered. "If you want."

I nod as she bounces to her feet; literally, she’s so light it’s like gravity gave up, and scurries over to the kitchenette.

I watch her go. The wings and tail bounce with every step, the sundress sliding up her thighs.

She’s a disaster, but she’s my disaster; she’s mine. I have no idea why she cares so much, but I’d be an idiot to question it.

[System: Did you see the way she looked at you? Mate, she’s yours already. Just don’t cock it up; actually, you should cock her up haha.]

Shut up.

She comes back with a mug of instant ramen. She offers it to me with both hands, like I’m royalty.

I try to take it with my tail, but she feeds me instead, blushing so hard she nearly spills it all down my chest.

It tastes like heaven, or maybe it’s just the not-dying feeling.

Her hands tremble, but she doesn’t pull away. Every time she brings the spoon to my mouth, her gaze darts from my eyes to the ramen and back, a silent, focused prayer that she won’t mess this up.

After a while, she props my head up on a rolled towel, tucks a blanket around my coils, and pats my cheek.

"If you need anything," she choked out, "just make a noise, okay? I’ll be here."

I want to thank her again; actually, I want to do a lot of things. But mostly, I just let myself close my eyes and drift.

She stays with me until I’m asleep.

I wake to silence.

No, that’s not right; it’s too quiet. Like the world outside my skull is holding its breath, waiting for me to fuck up first.

But that’s when I hear it: boots. Heavy ones, clomping up the stairs outside, the kind that belong to people who don’t care if you know they’re coming.

A low, sharp mutter filters through the door from two, maybe three, female voices. One has the accent of someone who’s never been told "no" by a supervisor, while the other sounds bored but dangerous. I can smell the tension before I even see a shadow under the door.

[System: Ah. Looks like the police’s come for an encore, mate. Or maybe it’s the landlord wanting his rent.]

There’s a knock. Not the kind that asks for permission. It’s the "if you don’t open up, I’ll open you" kind.

Cherry doesn’t stir. She just squeezes my tail tighter and lets out a tiny, sleepy moan.

The door rattles. The wood groans, then a hiss of static cuts the silence before a hard, angry thud slams against the frame. They’re not subtle, and they want in, and they’re not going to wait.

I size up the room. Only one exit: the window, which is half-stuck and two floors up from a solid face of brick. The bathroom is a coffin. The only weapon in reach is the mug of empty ramen and the stubborn, unbroken will of a snake who’s just tasted what it’s like to matter to someone.

Another slam and the wood around her door starts to crack.

[System: You’re up, champ. Don’t embarrass yourself again.]

Cherry stirs, mumbling, then opens her eyes. She sees me, eyes wide, and for a second she’s so happy it hurts.

The noise registers, and her whole body goes rigid. She looks from the door back to me, her eyes scanning my body. "Are you okay? Can you fight?"

I nod.

"I’ve got it."

Her breath hitches, relief and terror mashed together. "Don’t get hurt again, okay? Iv run out of duct tape and glue..."

I grin, sharp and bright fangs out and dripping venom. "No promises."

The door buckles and there’s a final, shattering boom.

I spring forward, every muscle singing, every scale ready for war.

[System: Right. Showtime. Don’t get splattered on the wall this time.]

The door explodes into three pieces, and none of those pieces are aimed at me anymore, because the biggest orc just tripped over his own boots and faceplanted into Cherry’s coffee table.

I watch him go down. I watch the other one freeze. I watch all of them look up at me, hoods flared, fangs dripping with neon green venom, hissing so loud the fairy lights vibrate on their string.

Nobody moves for a solid three seconds.

Then the lead orc, the one still on the ground, makes this weird whimpering noise and starts crawling backward through the broken door with his head bowed and he’s shaking, dragging his friend by her ankles like he’s some kind of horrified rescue worker.

"He holds his hands up, shaking his head. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope, wrong apartment, wrong everything, we’re good, we’re so good, you—you’re fine!"

And then they’re gone. Just gone. I hear them tumbling down the stairwell outside, boots clattering, someone yelling about a call to Marv, whoever the hell Marv is.

I stay reared up for another ten seconds just in case it’s a trick. Old Mate doesn’t say anything, which honestly is more alarming than if he’d been cracking jokes, but eventually I let my hood relax and sink back down into a normal coil.

No minotaurs with hammers, small little miracles, I guess.

Cherry hasn’t moved from the spot where I basically bulldozed out of her grip. She’s staring at me with her mouth hanging open, tail curled tight around her own ankle, coat still clutched shut with one fist.

"You," she says. "You just? They just?"

"Ran away?" I assured. "Yeah."

"You didn’t even do anything!"

"I flared my hood at them."

"That’s doing something! That’s a lot of something!" She scrambles forward on her knees, closing the gap between us, and for a second I think she’s going to hug my tail again, but instead she just kind of hovers there, vibrating with something that isn’t quite fear anymore.