Jayson trudges into Derrick's living room, the bathrobe cinched tight around his waist. His fur is finally clean and glowing, white and fluffy from the vigorous toweling, though his ears still droop with exhaustion. Even his brown hair is soft, like a cloud.

  The room is dim, lit only by a single lamp in the corner. Owen Owenheim snores on the recliner, his patchy brown and black fur rising and falling with each breath. Peter Piper and Chipper Chapel are sprawled on opposite ends of the smaller couch, both rabbits looking decades older in sleep.

  As Jayson tiptoes around, looking for a good spot to sleep, Lexia follows behind him, clad in her pink bathrobe that clings to her damp curves. Her thick white hair hangs in wet strands around her face as she admires her handiwork, barely containing a smug grin.

  "Look at you," she whispers, reaching out to fluff Jayson's hair. "All sparkly clean. I can actually see your natural color now instead of that grimy gray-brown whatever-that-was. I should scrub you down more often."

  Jayson swats her hand away, glancing nervously at the sleeping figures. "Would you keep it down? Some people are trying to sleep."

  "Oh please," Lexia says, voice dropping but maintaining that teasing edge. "Nothing short of a bomb would wake them up. Besides, you should be thanking me. I scrubbed everything thoroughly and I could tell you enjoyed my amazing feminine hands."

  Lexia finished with a grin and wagged her brows as she flexed her fingers at Jayson. In turn, heat rushes to Jayson's face and he tiptoes past North Nermal, who's still slumped in the armchair, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. However, Lexia walks like normal, forgoing any attempt at tiptoeing.

  "I had everything under control until you barged in," says Jayson, making his way toward the kitchen.

  Lexia snickers, following close behind. "Is that what you call sitting fully clothed on the toilet while the water runs? Because where I come from, that's called wasting water." She leans in close to his ear, her breath warm against his fur. "And you smell like a tropical breeze now. You're welcome."

  Jayson's ears twitch in irritation as he opens the refrigerator, the light illuminating his scowl. "I don't smell like a tropical breeze. That fish shaped bottle had Aaron’s sunshine raspberry shampoo!”

  Lexia furrows her brow. “You know what kind of shampoo that was?”

  “Of course I know. It's my favorite shampoo. Breaks down dirt and grime and has moisturizer in it to replenish lushness in the fur and hair."

  Lexia rubs her chin, and Jayson holds up his finger, his face still buried in the fridge.

  “Also, Aaron's Aroma Shampoo Company helped finance the first two Deathbot movies. You can see their products in the background in multiple scenes. And Aaron Aroma’s daughter, Alexandria Aroma, played Xenia in the 'Xenia the Warrior Princess' series.”

  Lexia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that's all fascinating. I've never seen someone's natural fur color change so much after a proper washing. It was like watching a magic trick. From biohazard to… eh… guy.”

  Jayson pulls his head out of the fridge, holding orange juice and arching a brow at Lexia.

  “I'm sorry, are you trying to flirt with me?”

  Lexia's eyes widen and her leg-swinging abruptly stops.

  "What? No! Absolutely not!" Lexia crosses her arms defensively across her chest, the pink bathrobe pulling tight, but her brown thighs are still exposed. "I was just making sure you didn't stink when we go into battle tomorrow. Your stench would have given us a way if we needed to hide. It's called strategy."

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Strategy?" Jayson pours himself a glass of orange juice, eyeing her suspiciously. "Since when does strategy involve getting naked and manhandling me in the shower?"

  "Since always," snaps Lexia, but her hot ears betray her with a slight twitch. "And I didn't manhandle you. I efficiently cleaned you."

  "You scrubbed places that I could have handled myself," says Jayson.

  "Well, you weren't doing it! And why are you making such a big deal about this? It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

  “We haven't.”

  “The reservoir.”

  “We weren't naked.”

  “I might as well have been.”

  “And you scrubbed me there, too. Do you have a weird scrubbing fetish or something?”

  “I do not. You were dirty then, just as you were dirty now. Or were dirty back before now. But I cleaned you good. Made you sparkly.”

  Jayson takes a long sip of juice, studying her over the rim of his glass. "Right… Well, you've been acting weird ever since Claribel bit you."

  Lexia freezes, her brown eyes wide and lips sealed. Silence comes.

  Followed by more silence.

  "No, I haven't,” says Lexia stiffly.

  "Yes, you have." Jayson sets down his glass with a soft clink. "First you get all emotional in my burrow, then you insist on buying me food, and then you got naked in front of me, and now you're keeping your thighs exposed and were swinging your leg towards me to draw attention to you. So, if it isn't flirting, what is it? Are you really okay, Lexia?”

  Lexia stares at Jayson, her eyes hardening, yet also becoming moist in the light. Her lips are tight, her pink nose flares from her heavy breathing as she tightens her grip on her bathrobe and shifts her position in an awkward attempt to hide her thighs.

  Jayson watches her, his critical gaze shifting to worry as Lexia’s breathing becomes erratic and tears roll from her eyes.

  “Lexia are you okay?” asks Jayson softly.

  "I'm fine. In fact, I'm so fine I'm…" Lexia bows her head and scratches her hair hard, breaking off a few strands. “I'm fine. I'm fine, fine, fine, I'm fine. Fine!”

  Lexia finishes with a hard slap on her thighs, and she takes a deep breath, exhales heavily, and smiles, leaving her thick white hair disheveled and her eyes glistening.

  “I'm going to get some beauty sleep,” says Lexia.

  She slides off the counter and speedwalks out of the kitchen. Due to the lack of walls, Jayson easily watches her go into the living room, drop to her knees, and then faceplant the floor.

  Jayson sips his orange juice, feeling sick from it as he watches Lexia’s motionless form on the floor. She keeps her face buried in the carpet and arms stiff at her sides. He rinses his glass, sets it in the sink, and pads quietly across the kitchen floor, stopping a few feet from her prone form.

  "Are you going to sleep like that?" asks Jayson.

  "Yes. It's good for the spine,” replies Lexia, her voice muffled by the carpet.

  Jayson nudges Lexia with his foot. “You should at least use a pillow for your face.”

  "Go away,” groans Lexia, her stubby brown and white tail twitching in irritation.

  Jayson looks around the room. Every comfortable surface is occupied by snoring bodies. The couch, chairs, and even most of the floor space is claimed. With a resigned sigh, he grabs a throw pillow that had fallen to the floor and a small blanket draped over the back of the couch. He creates a makeshift bed near Lexia, careful not to disturb the others.

  As he settles down, the exhaustion of the day crashes over him. His muscles ache from the fighting, traveling, and overzealous scrubbing they received, and his mind feels foggy with fatigue. The room is quiet except for the symphony of snores and the occasional mumble from one of the sleeping figures.

  Just as his eyes begin to close, Lexia's muffled voice, barely audible, reaches him.

  "I don't want to die tomorrow."

  Jayson's eyes snap open, and he turns his head to look at her. She hasn't moved from her face-down position.

  "We're not going to die," he says, keeping his voice low.

  "You don't know that." She finally turns her head, resting her cheek against the carpet, her wet brown eyes reflecting the dim light. "Claribel nearly killed me. And now we're going after Ramsey and who knows what else."

  Jayson props himself up on one elbow. "If you're too afraid, you can sit it out. No one will be upset with you if you back out."

  "I'm not afraid," snaps Lexia. "I just have unfinished business, and dying would ruin it."

  "What business?"

  “Killing the one who killed my dad.”

  A heavy silence stretches between them, broken only by Owen's particularly loud snore. Jayson watches her for a moment longer before settling back down.

  "We're not going to die," repeats Jayson, more firmly this time. "We've survived everything Bliss Town has thrown at us so far. We'll get through this too."

  Lexia says nothing, but she shifts slightly, turning more toward him. Her eyes are still heavy and wet, and she puffs through her pink nose.

  “If you say so,” says Lexia. She hesitates. “By the way, since you saw me naked how would you rate me, scale of one to ten?”

  “Tomato,” blurts Jayson.

  Lexia scoffs and presses her face into the carpet. “Prick.”

  Jayson smirks and tosses the blanket over Lexia, and then he stretched out, hands resting on his gut, and he closes his eyes, quickly bringing him to an empty black void.

  No sound.

  No images.

  No feeling.

  Pure emptiness.

  Pure peace.