The fluorescent lights of IHOP beam down on us, casting everything in that particular chain restaurant glow. Our server, a woman with tired eyes and a practiced smile, leads us to a booth near the back, dropping off menus with a promise to return for our drink orders.
I slide into the seat across from Amy while Riley settles in beside her. They're both scanning the menu with identical expressions of wide-eyed wonder, heads tilted at the exact same angle, fingers tracing the laminated pages in perfect synchronicity.
Amy looks up at me with pure, unbridled joy radiating from her face. Her purple eyes are practically glowing with excitement, and she's bouncing slightly in her seat like a kid on Christmas morning.
Despite everything, the trauma, the fear, the utter insanity of my life now, I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. It's contagious.
"You really love chain restaurants, don't you?" I ask, shaking my head in amusement.
"Are you kidding?" Amy gushes, clutching the menu to her chest. "They're magnificent! So many choices, all precisely the same no matter where you go. The consistency is beautiful."
Riley nods vigorously beside her. "Plus, look at all these pictures! Pancakes with faces! Whipped cream mountains! It's like edible art!"
I notice how they both use different words but express the exact same sentiment. How Riley waits precisely three seconds after Amy speaks before chiming in, like they're consciously taking turns. To anyone else, they might look like close friends with similar tastes, but I know better.
"I'm thinking chocolate chip pancakes," Amy announces, tapping the picture with a perfectly manicured nail.
"Strawberry for me," Riley adds immediately, pointing at a different section.
The server returns with a pot of coffee, filling my cup before turning to the girls. "What can I get you ladies to drink?"
"Water for both of us," they reply in unison, then exchange a quick glance.
Amy clears her throat. "I mean, water for me."
"And also for me," Riley adds with a forced laugh. "Great minds, right?"
The server doesn't seem to notice anything odd, just nods and walks away. As soon as she's gone, I lean forward.
"You two need to be more careful," I whisper. "People will notice if you keep talking in stereo."
Amy's face falls slightly. "Sorry. It's hard to remember sometimes. Being in two places is... complicated."
Riley reaches under the table, presumably to squeeze Amy's hand. "I'll do better. Promise."
"It's actually easier when we separate," Amy explains, her voice dropping to a whisper despite the clatter of dishes and murmur of conversation around us, "but since I'm with my darling, I wanted to be more unified."
I lean across the table, keeping my voice low. "You're a hivemind, right?"
She nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Yes, but I have control of how much we're in unison. I could separate a clone entirely if I wanted to and then rebind with them. I could even leave a clone with only one person's personality." Her eyes flick to Riley briefly. "I could make it so Riley never even knew she was slime."
Riley's expression doesn't change at all during this exchange, her eyes fixed on the menu as if she can't hear us discussing her existence.
Amy's face takes on a thoughtful expression. "Well, I'm still perfecting the internal organs, but if I eat one or two more people, I think I can do it no problem."
I sigh heavily, rubbing my temples. "Amy..."
"What?" She blinks innocently, head tilted at that slightly inhuman angle. "I'm just saying what's possible."
"You can't just casually talk about eating people," I hiss, glancing nervously at nearby tables. "Especially not in a damn IHOP."
Amy laughs. "Oh please, no one's listening to us."
Before I can respond, she suddenly slides out of her side of the booth. In one fluid motion, she's next to me, hip-bumping me deeper into my seat as she settles beside me.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, suddenly very aware of how close she is.
Amy leans in, her body pressing against mine from shoulder to thigh. The low-cut top she's wearing gives me a front seat to her cleavage, pale and perfect. My mouth goes dry at the sight.
"I saw you looking," she purrs, a knowing smile playing across her lips. Her fingers thread through my hair, nails lightly scraping against my scalp in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
I try to look away but can't. "Amy, we're in public..."
She tilts her head, purple eyes studying me with predatory focus. "How long are we going to keep playing this game, Ben?" Her voice drops to a silky whisper. "You seem completely over the Riley situation already."
My eyes dart to Riley, who's watching us with the same hungry expression as Amy, her head tilted at the exact same angle.
Amy's fingers continue stroking through my hair as she leans closer, her lips brushing against my ear. "Should I just let you piss inside everyone I absorb? Is that what takes to get you over your little murder accusations?"
I pull back, looking her directly in the eyes. "Amy, I don't want to get to a point where I convince myself murder is acceptable."
Amy's eyes narrow dangerously, her body stiffening beside me. "It's not murder!"
Across the table, Riley's expression darkens in perfect synchronization, her freckled face contorting with the same indignation.
"I'm a predator, Ben," Amy hisses, keeping her voice low but intense. "Lions eat gazelles. Wolves eat rabbits. I absorb humans. It's natural."
"Humans aren't gazelles," I counter, trying to keep my voice steady. "They're people with lives and families and…"
Amy's face softens suddenly. She cups my face with one hand, her touch cool against my skin. Before I can continue my argument, she presses her thumb against my lips.
"Open," she commands softly.
I hesitate, but something in her expression makes me comply. As her thumb slips between my lips, I taste that familiar sweetness, a drop of her nectar dissolving on my tongue. More follows, a small trickle of purple fluid dribbling from her thumb into my mouth.
"Shhh, baby," she whispers, stroking my cheek with her other hand. "Stop worrying so much."
The effect is immediate. A wave of tranquility washes over me, my thoughts becoming fuzzy around the edges. The tension drains from my body, replaced by a pleasant warmth that spreads from my core to my fingertips.
"What were we talking about?" I mumble, blinking slowly as I try to grasp the conversation thread that suddenly seems so unimportant.
Amy smiles, pulling me closer until my head rests against her shoulder. "Nothing important, darling."
Across the table, Riley beams with identical satisfaction, both of them watching me with matching expressions of tender possessiveness.
"That's my good boy," Amy coos, pressing a kiss to my temple.
A surge of happiness blooms in my chest at her words, simple and pure. I smile dopily, nestling closer to her cool body.
The server approaches with waters and a notepad. "Ready to order?"
Amy strokes my hair, her fingers gentle against my scalp. "What are you going to get, Ben?"
I glance lazily at the menu, the pictures swimming before my eyes before settling on something that looks delicious. I point to the Cinnabon inspired pancakes.
"Perfect choice," Amy says with a smile. She turns to the waitress. "He'll have the Cinn-a-Stack pancakes, I'll have the chocolate chip pancakes with extra whipped cream, and she'll have the strawberry pancakes with a side of bacon."
The server nods, jotting down our order before walking away. I continue leaning against Amy, content and pliant in her embrace.
"You're so cute like this," Riley comments, reaching across the table to tap my nose playfully. "All soft and sweet."
I smile dreamily at her, unable to remember why I'd been upset earlier. Everything feels right in this moment, being here with Amy and Riley, the promise of pancakes, the pleasant buzz humming through my veins.
"I like making you happy," Amy murmurs against my ear. "Don't you prefer feeling like this to all that worrying?"
I nod, nuzzling against her neck. "Feels nice," I agree, my voice slightly slurred. "No more fighting."
Amy's lips find mine, soft and cool against my mouth. Her kiss is deep and demanding, her tongue slipping between my lips with supernatural precision. I respond with unexpected hunger, my hands weaving through her silky purple-black hair as I pull her closer.
Riley shifts across from us, a small moan escaping her lips as she watches our passionate display. Her eyes never leave us, pupils dilating with vicarious pleasure.
I lose myself in Amy's kiss, time stretching like taffy as her tongue does impossible things inside my mouth, splitting and reuniting, reaching places no human tongue could reach. The restaurant around us fades away, irrelevant compared to the sensation of Amy's lips and hands.
A pointed cough breaks through our bubble. I pull back, dazed, to find our server standing awkwardly beside the table, arms loaded with plates of pancakes.
"Excuse me," she says, clearly uncomfortable. "Your food is ready."
Heat rushes to my face as I realize we've been making out intensely in the middle of IHOP.
"Sorry," I mumble, sliding over to make room for the plates.
Amy laughs, completely unembarrassed, as she adjusts her slightly rumpled top. "Don't apologize, darling," she says, loud enough for the server to hear. "Life's too short to waste time you could spend kissing."
The server just shrugs and walks away, completely unfazed by our public display of affection. Looking around, I notice none of the other patrons even glance our waya , couple making out is apparently just standard IHOP ambiance, somewhere between the sticky syrup bottles and the faded booth cushions.
I turn back to Amy, but this time, I really look at her. Not at the supernatural monster who threatened me, not at the jealous girlfriend who absorbed Riley, but at the being who's sitting across from me with genuine joy radiating from her face. Those purple eyes that watch me with such intensity aren't just predatory. They're filled with something else. Something real.
My heart clenches with sudden clarity. In this twisted new reality, she's the only one who truly sees me. Who knows my story. Who cares whether I live or die.
I reach across the table and take her hand, feeling its cool smoothness against my palm. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise probably since I've never initiated contact like this before.
"Amy," I say, my voice soft but steady. "I think I've been too caught up in what I've lost. Too focused on the past."
She tilts her head, those purple eyes studying me with cautious hope.
"It's okay to miss your old life," she says carefully, her fingers tightening around mine. "I understand that."
"I know," I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "And I'll probably always miss parts of it. Miss Liz. But I can't keep living there. I'm here now, with you."
Amy's smile widens. "With me?"
"Yeah," I say, squeezing her hand. "From now on, I'm going to be a better boyfriend, okay? Really try to make this work."
Amy's entire body seems to vibrate with emotion. Across the table, Riley vibrates too.
Amy's face transforms with an expression I've never seen before, something beyond joy or satisfaction. It's possession in its purest form. Her eyes darken to a deep violet, almost black at the centers.
"That makes me happy, Ben," she says as her fingers tighten around mine until they're almost painful. "You're finally understanding what we are."
I sit there wondering what she means by that.
"Darling, eat your pancakes before they get cold."
I almost panic at the thought of the Cinn-A-Stack becoming too Syrupy.
"Ahh, you're right."