One more hour came and went like a warm, numbing blur.
I didn't do anything particularly productive, just ate some good Egyptian emperor grape, drank ridiculously wine that was sadly not made by virgins stepping barefoot on grapes, stretched, and occasionally let out small groans of satisfaction like some half-awake cat.
I'm a low-maintenance pet at this point, but eh, free stuff.
The floor of the underground safehouse was cool, so I often find my hand hanging down and rubbing against it while my head rested on Ann's thighs, and for once I didn't mind the faint Asianesque incense smell of this god awful place.
I grunted, curling a little closer, my arms crossed over my stomach.
"Comfortable?" she asked.
"Yeah," I murmured. "Very much so."
"Good girl." She chuckled, soft and short, which flustered me a bit, "I didn't think you were the type to enjoy downtime."
