I collapsed to the bed, toweling off my hair from the second shower of the evening. This one had been much better than the first, which consisted largely of scrubbing ourselves raw. Otherworldly goop managed to get just about everywhere. And yes, our clothes had wound up in the incinerator at the end.
“I’m worried we might be developing a fetish,” Harry said. He laid down beside me, stroking his fingers up and down my back.
I squawked a surprised laugh. “What, all these tentacles starting to turn you on? I didn’t realize hentai was your thing.”
“I mean to the rush,” Harry said. “The battles. That kind of thing. While it certainly makes for some very fun evenings.” He took the opportunity to squeeze a few parts of me, by way of example. “Do you ever worry we’re getting too used to the pattern?”
“What?” I asked, looking sideways at him. “You think we need a romantic getaway? Get back to the real roots of how we met, what brought us together?” I tapped my chin. “Oh, wait. That was during the raid of the Great Cult of Faghrengeft. When I saved you from having your head ripped off by an ogre.”
Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Are you trying to say we’ve never had it normal?”
I flopped down the rest of the way and curled up around him, stroking things in preparation for round two. “I’m saying we wouldn’t recognize normal if we saw it.”