Chapter 13

"Wait!"

She paused at the shout, then took a deliberate step up the stairs.

"Renee, wait- please." He stopped at the bottom. "Please- just ... just hear me out."

She didn't turn around, but she stilled, halfway up.

"What do you want, Simon?"

You.

"I can explain-"

"Let me guess. They ordered you to do those things, right? Like Emilee made me- made me obey anyone."

"Y-yes," he stammered. But if she realized that... "Why-"

"Why do I want you gone?" She spoke in monotone. "Because it doesn't matter if they forced you or not."

"What? Renee, th-that wasn't me."

She exhaled. "Look. Can you guarantee it will never happen again? No? I thought not. I can't trust you, and I was stupid to think I could. Leave me alone. I'm going to throw up."

Simon wanted to stop her, but there wasn't anything to say. Apologies were useless. Promises he wanted to make could be over-written with a few words from Henry.

She began hobbling up the stairs again.

He couldn't do anything.

He turned mechanically, afraid if he kept watching he'd run after her again.

'Syns can never be friends, Simon.' Valerie's voice rang in his head. 'We always, always, hurt each other.'

He'd ignored the warning then, too.

And now Valerie was dead.

Renee hated him.

€œShit, € he muttered. He said it again, then others, but none of the obscenities relieved the anger, or the guilt.

Simon paced the halls anxiously. He'd spent the entire day trying to get Renee out of his head- and failing. Half of the time, he was plotting to win her back, somehow- but the memory of her breasts, or her hair, or her eyes ... of her, underneath him, kept intruding on the plans.

He shook off another paralyzing surge of guilt.

She hadn't come out of her bedroom yet. He'd waited in the syn quarters, hoping she'd be less antsy in the presence of others, despite the actual lack of safety.

But she'd never shown up. Nor had Claude forced her to come down; he'd left with three masters and Cecilia after lunch.

And throughout the day, the syn room had emptied; one by one, the owners had come to claim them. Besides a few snide remarks from Henry, none had looked at Simon twice.

Fuck, thought Simon.

He was alone.

He stopped outside of Renee's door, and raised his fist-

-then slowly brought it back down.

A longer pause, then he marched over to Henry's door. He lifted his hand decisively, ready to choose- if he entered Henry's room he wouldn't be coming back out- but he couldn't do that, could he?

He couldn't leave it like this.

He clenched his teeth, and returned to Renee's door.

A minute later, he was back outside Henry's.

Simon had been vacillating between the two for the past hour and a half.

"Come on," he mumbled. "Just fucking talk to her, Simon, you goddamn idiot."

His knuckles were rapping against the wood before his mind noticed and stopped him.

Simon stared wide-eyed at the wayward hand and the door.

"Oh fuck," he said. "Fuck."

He hadn't even decided on what to say.

The door cracked open. An eye and a nose peaked out.

"... Simon?"

Fuck.

"Um. Hi." He smiled wanly. His face was burning, but Simon doubted he could stop it.

"What on earth are you doing out there? It's-" Her nose disappeared as she glanced behind her. "It's four in the morning."

"I-" He couldn't even frame a decent lie. "I was working up the nerve to talk to you."

She stared at him.

"It's just, we're leaving tomorrow morning," he rushed. "And I ... I couldn't go with you still hating me." He swallowed. "Please, Renee."

The girl sighed. "I don't hate you."

"Then what? I'd understand if you hate me, and that makes you want me gone. But-"

"Answer me a question," she said abruptly. "Just one, okay?" She leaned in the gap, watching his face intently. "Henry said you wanted to 'fuck' me since the beginning. Was that true?"

Simon groaned inwardly.

" ... yes," he finally replied. He had to shove his foot in the gap to keep her from slamming the door. "Wait- Renee, goddamnit, not like that. I wasn't going to do anything-" He stopped, belatedly realizing he was inside the room now, and Renee was glancing to the left and right as if she were looking for something to throw.

Shit.

He sat on the floor and raised his hands in the air.

Look. I'm harmless. See how harmless I am?

Renee- once she noticed, at a distance back- quirked an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not here to hurt you."

"You could."

"Everyone's asleep. No one is going to be able to make me- or you- do anything. You're safe, alright? I want to talk."

Renee blinked, hard, sat on the bed and stared down at him.

"Talk."

"I said I had wanted to- to 'fuck' you, and that was true, but I never wanted to rape you, Renee. And I wouldn't have defined my fantasies as 'fucking, ' if it came to that. Do you get what I am saying?" Simon slowly lowered his arms, and rubbed his face. "I would never have done it like that. Not if I had a choice."

" ... then how would you?" She smiled without any humor. "Would you wait until I trusted you again- then take me when I least expected it? Surprise me in my sleep? Or perhaps-"

"Stop it." Simon took a deep breath. "Renee, look at me- look me in the eyes-" he gazed at her earnestly. "Believe me when I say this: I wouldn't have forced you to do anything. If you said "no" or "quit" or whatever- I would have listened, okay?"

He closed his eyes and leaned back. "But I thought- I'd hoped- that you'd know that, and you trust me enough that you wouldn't want to." He sighed. "I'm sorry I fucked that up. And I get that you don't trust me- I get it- but could you forgive me at all?"

There was silence.

"You're leaving tomorrow?" asked Renee.

"Yeah. Everyone is."

"W-when are you coming back?"

He snorted. "The next time they have a party, maybe in a few months. I doubt Henry'll go, though- he isn't very social."

And you won't be around, his mind whispered.

Renee didn't need to know that.

" ... is this the last time I'll see you?" she asked quietly.

Yes.

Simon shrugged. "Probably." His eyes were still shut, but now it was because of the goddamn tears welling up.

He heard her leave the bed, and settle down in front of him. He didn't look, though.

"I don't want my memory of you to be ... be tainted, Simon. Especially by them," Renee sighed. "I care about you too much for that."

Her voice had gotten closer, close enough that he could feel her breath against his cheek. But he still couldn't look- any movement might startle her away.

"So I'm going to change it," she announced. "I'm giving you the chance to change it."

She kissed him.

It wasn't a passionate kiss. Nor was it powerful or skilled. It was tentative, uncertain, a sweet echo of the innocent girl Renee had been.

It was the best kiss Simon had ever had.

He broke it off, eyes wide. "Renee, what-"

"Shh," she said. A nervous smile played on her lips. "You imagined me liking it, right?" She brushed his cheek. "Show me."

"You don't need to-"

"I know," she said quietly. "I won't let Claude make me afraid of doing what I want, though. Not him, or any of the others. I want this, and I think you do, too."

The tightness of his pants answered that question easily enough. "Yes, but-"

She pulled him to her again, soft lips interrupting whatever logical argument he hadn't actually possessed.

She smelled of mint.

Simon raised an unsteady hand and swept her hair behind an ear.

Renee deepened the kiss, hesitantly tasting him.

Warmth surged throughout his body. He met her gentle passion and raised it, exploring her mouth slowly.

They parted, slightly breathless. She was too close for him to focus on, her forehead against his.

"... wow," he said.

She giggled. "Yes. 'Wow.'" She stood, and held out a hand. "Come on." She pulled Simon to his feet, led him to the bed, but she halted in front of it, as if what was next was just now hitting her.

She's afraid.

He squeezed her hand and she jumped, confirming his worst suspicions.

"Hey," he murmured. "It's fine, Renee. We don't-"

"No." She shook her head sharply. "I'm ... I'm just a little tense." She attempted a smile. "Kiss me again."

They connected until she'd shaken off whatever phantom the sight of the bed had summoned.

"Sit on the bed," she said. She lifted her head from the nook his neck formed with his shoulder and smiled at him. "Step two necessitates the removal of our clothes."

Simon sat and fumbled with his pants, never taking his eyes off her. She waited until he was completely naked before lifting the nightgown over her head and tossing it to the floor.

He'd seen her nude before. But both times, it hadn't been her. Not like this.

The clock lit her in soft blue, outlining the contours of her breasts and body. The illumination highlighted the hair that flowed behind her, the tiny nose, and sharp cheekbones. She gripped her wrist in front of her restlessly, as if tempted to be hiding behind something larger.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered. "I really don't think you realize it."

"It's not like it counts," she replied. "All syns are pretty."

He shook his head, a dumb grin plastered across his face. "No. Not like you. You're..." he searched for a proper reason. "Compassionate, and strong, too. You haven't broken. It's like ... like you're more real."

As if spurred on by the compliments, she moved closer.

"I'm not," she purred in his ear. "And you're silly to think so." She hesitated, then ran a finger along his erect penis. "You definitely feel real to me."