Starting Life From Zero: Far From Home

Chapter Fifty-Two

Ram directed the Ground Dragons that drew the carriage to pass around one side of a deep puddle, narrowly avoiding one of the wooden wheels crashing down into the divot. They'd crossed paths with another carriage or two, but the expected traffic wouldn't be present on a day with inclement weather.

Plus, as word got around about the White Whale and its fate there were sure to be celebrations and congratulations. At least, Peter imagined they did those kinds of things. Maybe Crusch's assessment that the average person would take little notice of their endeavor since they were unlikely to have ever encountered the White Whale in the first place was the truth of things.

Among those who had, how any of the would recall or be left to mount any kind of celebration?

With his chin resting in the palm of his hand, Peter stole a peek at Emilia. Maybe he had imagined it, but the longer they rode along like this, Peter became more certain she had turned her body slightly to one side to avoid his gaze. He didn't know why she would have a reason to do this. Hours ago they had been fine, cuddled up in the bed together.

Of course, nothing illicit happened. Not that Peter didn't want the chance to do something more with Emilia. He stared at the strip of her neck visible through the gap in the tendrils of her hair and swore he spotted redness? Panic set in as he wondered: did I put a hickey on Emilia's neck?

Peter didn't remember the kissing being rough, but it had happened several times throughout the night at odd intervals. His mind flitted through multiple different avenues of thought.

Would Aunt May notice the marks on Emilia's neck?

Couldn't she just heal them?

Was there a polite way to ask her to do that; how would he handle that minefield?

Emilia had adorable ears. Oh, shit. Why was he looking at them wondering what it'd be like to nibble on one and how she'd react?

Peter cast his eyes downward to focus on something else and found himself caught up in the smoothness of the bit of thigh beneath the hem of her skirt.

Petra let out a forced laugh as she kicked her legs hard enough that the swung up under the bench seat that she sat on across from them. "I guess the gloomy weather is getting to everyone," she said. "We're all just so quiet."

"I think we're all kind of tired." Peter ripped his eyes away from Emilia. Had Petra noticed where he had been looking all this time.

Emilia combed her fingers through her hair, sweeping the silver strands over her shoulder and sending a fragrance wafting past Peter that ignited several memories in his head. "Well, I didn't get much sleep and I know Peter didn't because he kept me up."

"You could have tol—" Peter's reply got cut short by the sound of Petra giggling. He leaned closer to Emilia. "You could have just told me to stop."

The half-elf smiled at him, her purple eyes holding a twinkle that Peter couldn't be sure he had ever seen before. "I didn't say I wanted you to stop." Her face reddened despite the confidence in her voice. "I was complicit in it."

"Miss Emilia, what's it like to—have a boyfriend?" Petra asked.

Emilia stared at Petra. "I guess, I haven't given it any thought. Well, not in those terms. I don't think I even properly asked Peter." She pressed her hands down onto the bench at her sides, turning her body so that her knees pointed toward him. "Would you like to be my boyfriend, Peter?"

Petra slapped her hands over her mouth as a fit of giggles burst forth.

The question caught Peter flat-footed, he gripped the seat and found that he was actively adhering himself to it using his spider powers. Managing to get his hand free from the bench, Peter reached up and rubbed at the side of his head. "I mean, I didn't think you'd ever ask me that..."