Chapter 33: Soft Heat

Soft heats, unlike hard heats, come with more frequent but less consuming waves of fever. Beth doesn’t let go of Sean for longer than a few minutes at a time, except for the twenty-ish minutes about halfway through, when he insists that they both eat something to keep their strength up.

She frets while he cleans up, which is sort of new. Their nest is nice— it’s warm, it’s cozy, it’s comfortable— but it doesn’t smell nearly enough like him. Her scent is too strong compared to his, amidst the blankets and pillows, even after the hours and hours he’s spent marking her, filling her up, scenting her until she smells more like him than herself.

If only she had something of his. A pillow, or maybe a hoodie, or—

Or his shirt.

Beth glances at the kitchen. Sean is focused on loading their dishes into her dishwasher. He may not even notice if she leans out of their nest for a few seconds. His shirt is just by the TV stand, within arms reach.