Napalm was standing outside the hotel room when Johnathan emerged. "You can't do this," he said, eyes defiant, voice tight with emotion.
Johnathan shrugged. "That's not up to you, dude."
"She's a kid!"
"Not when she's Lily, she's not."
"I don't care. Lyric is still in there, and she's a kid."
"Dude. Look. Same body. More than one person. Okay? I'm not fucking Lyric. I'm fucking Lily."
"Lyric can *feel* you..."
"I don't think she can. I wouldn't do it if I thought she could. Dude, I don't wanna hurt Lyric. You gotta know that. But Lily's a different person. And *I* have got to go hit the snack machine."
Just as Johnathan disappeared from sight, as Napalm was turning to leave, the door opened again. "Aisling. Good to see you."
Lyric's body, Lyric's face, subtly changed. The open innocence gone, the body language aggressively sensual, the eyes sultry. Lyric... twisted.
She sat beside him, adjusting her crimson silk robe, and lit a clove ciarette. Napalm watched her exhale as she looked up at the stars, watched the smoke in her hair, the lean angle of her throat. It was nigh-impossible to look at Lily without wanting her, and she knew it.
"Don't do that," he said quietly.
She gave him a speculative look. "Do what?"
"Smoke. You'll hurt.. your body."
She grinned knowingly. "You mean I'll hurt Lyric."
"We all die someday, Aisling. What does it matter if we die coughing?"
She looked back at him, sensing weakness. "Don't want this body... damaged, hm?"
"It's Lyric's body."
"Oh, please. Lyric's a latecomer just like the rest of us. She just gets more screentime. And *you* -" she pointed at him with her cigarette - "are just intent on her because you're in love with her."
Napalm's eyes widened. "No! I - she's like a kid sister to me."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Please. Spare me. You're in love with the girl. She's in love with you. Take her!"
"Fuck her, Aisling. Or make sweet sweet love to her.Whatever you want to do, just *do* it already."
"I don't want that."
"I love her. Like a sister. And she's a *kid*. I would never - I - Lily, she - I love her. Like a sister. She'll... never be old enough to love someone the way you mean."
She shrugged. "Then do me."
"Aisling," she grinned. "Same body. I'll close my eyes so you can pretend I'm Lyric..."
"No!" he cried, panic-stricken. "Not Lyric. I don't want that. I'll never, never..."
Lily let her robe slip off her shoulder, revealing the tops of her breasts. Napalm looked away, as much as he could. Lyric's body. Little Lyric. Not Lily. "Please stop that," he whispered.
"I wanna go home."
He looked back up, startled. Lyric's innocent eyes. She looked at her cigarette, confused. He gently removed it from her hand and stubbed it out, and cleared his throat. "Ah. Honey? Fix your robe. Lily's robe. The shoulder."
She pulled it up, rubbing the red silk thoughtfully. "Take off this uniform."
"Yeah. Let's get you changed."
He did *not* want Lyric. Not like that. He wouldn't. He couldn't. No matter what Lily did.
Damn Lily to hell.
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I keep almost nodding off.