Freya woke up sore, smarting when her weight shifted onto the new bruise on her hip. The sides of her face ached. Her muscles weren’t used to smiling so much. She leaned back against Dan, not caring if it hurt.

When was the last time she’d woken up smiling like that? Certainly not since Randall died. Maybe not since she was eight years old, when they visited Cape Canaveral, and she woke up before everyone else, overflowing with excitement.

Freya was wrapped in Dan’s arms. She felt the slow movement of his breathing against her back. He’d fallen asleep first, and she remembered the little tremors that rippled through him as he drifted off. She listened to his breathing as it grew slower, feeling his heartbeat against her back and trying to stay awake for as long as she could. She’d been convinced for some reason he would be gone when she woke up, certain she didn’t deserve to feel so happy.

But Dan hadn’t vanished in the night. It wasn’t a dream. There had been no dreams at all.

The room flickered in the light of the fireplace, and her eyes drifted through the dancing shadows to the big tub in the bathroom. A few of the candles around the tub still burned, but most had guttered out. Her pants were neatly folded beside the sink, and the Starball was in her pocket. She could feel it if she concentrated.

Unity grew stronger, lasting longer, and Freya couldn’t wait. She wanted to spend every waking moment United. Perhaps they would even dream together. The thought worried her. Freya remembered the shadow tapping at her window, the cliffs tumbling into the sea. What if Dan couldn’t take it? What if her dreams drove him away?

I will protect him, Freya resolved. She visualized herself in a suit of gleaming armor, cutting the shade apart with a shining sword. Her muscles tensed with intent, and Dan shifted behind her. She forced herself to be still. It was dark outside, and she didn’t want to wake him. His arm moved beneath her. She saw a slight twitch of his fingers.

What about Dan’s dreams? Could they be worse than hers? What if he dreamed about other girls? Or other boys? Freya couldn’t picture how that would make her feel.

You can’t control your dreams, Freya told herself, but she wasn’t sure she believed that. She dwelt on the thought, wondering how much of her dreams were her, how much was just random noise?

How much was the Starball?

Freya remembered Dan asking her if she’d liked him before she found the Starball. The thought cast her into a roil of uncertainty, wondering if she cared about Dan or if he really cared about her. Maybe he was in thrall, a slave to a little black shard buried in his palm. The whole thing could be part of the orb’s plan to keep her alive.

Unconsciously, Freya rubbed her fingertip against the place where she’d been pierced. She thought of the Ø process, the dead whiteboards, Karhu’s sunken eyes. What did it all mean? What did the Starball want? There was a hopeless feeling the orb was too alien and inscrutable, and she would never understand.

I would help you if I could, Freya thought to the orb. She leaned back into Dan to reassure herself he was still there. For Unity, she would pay any price. Without it, she was nothing at all.

Freya wound herself up too much to get back to sleep. She looked out the window, searching for the dawn, but it was too early. The snow was still coming down hard, and she wondered how much had accumulated.

Behind her, Dan stiffened.

Must be a good dream.

Freya smirked and wriggled back, grinding her butt against him. He swelled in response. She waited for him to wake, but his breathing remained deep and slow. He was only dreaming, Freya wished she could join, but Unity would not come. Dan felt so warm against her. She only had to slip her hand down and adjust him slightly, and he would be right where she wanted.

Freya bit her lip and resisted the urge. It would be so wrong. He wasn’t ready, and he deserved to be awake for his first time. But she was very wet, and all she could think about was how good he would feel sliding against her.

She didn’t trust herself to hold back any longer. She forced herself to get out of bed and paddled silently to the bathroom. She closed the door, then she peed and brushed her teeth by candlelight.

Not until we’re United, Freya resolved.

She waited until she felt more in control and crept back to the side of the bed. The soft light of the fireplace illuminated Dan’s face. She expected him to be serene, but his brow was lined. His arms twitched in the dream, still stretched out in the space where she’d been.

He misses me, Freya thought.

It hurt in a wonderful way. She wanted to dive back into his arms and cover his face with kisses. She lifted the comforter, trying to figure out how she could get back in bed without waking him. Her eyes traced down the line of his body. Part of him was still wide awake.

The idea of waiting felt impossible. Freya wanted to pounce, to grind on top of Dan until he looked up at her with those beautiful green eyes and whispered: please.

Her hand slipped between her legs at the thought. She was on fire. She tried to find the nerve to wake him, her eyes fixated on his erection, and her tongue ran over her lips.

Could she do that?

Freya had seen plenty of videos. She understood the mechanics. But now that she was considering putting her mouth on a penis, she was filled with anxiety.

What if it felt gross? What if she wasn’t good at it? What if Dan woke up and freaked out? You were supposed to talk this kind of thing over, to get consent. Did that even apply to people who could read each other’s minds?

Dan twitched again in his dream, still excited, and so was she. She slipped into bed, bringing her face close to him. Even after their bath, he had an intense, animal smell. She’d been worried it would gross her out but, instead, she felt driven, suddenly wide awake in the moment. She paused, trying to gauge how she felt, wondering if she really wanted to do this.

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She did. Freya moved forward and kissed Dan softly. He didn’t wake up. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it was like kissing any other part of him, just warmer. She kissed him again, a little harder, and he grew bigger beneath her lips. She leaned back to watch, fascinated. A tiny droplet formed at the tip of his penis, gleaming in the firelight.

He likes this, Freya told herself. She was curious, so she slipped her tongue out and tasted him. She’d expected it to be salty as seawater, but it was lighter, more basic. She felt a slight numbing feeling at the tip of her tongue and against her lips, a tingle so faint she was unsure if she was only imagining it.

Freya remembered the way he’d pulsed in her hand and shot everywhere last night, and she wondered what it would feel like if he came on her like that. Part of her found the idea revolting, but it was a small voice shouted down by thrumming desire.

Freya parted her lips and slowly slipped Dan into her mouth. She held him there without any pressure, slowly she began to feel the pulse of his dorsal vein against her tongue. It wasn’t bad, it was just new. Freya sealed her lips around him and ran her tongue around, experimenting. Dan made dreamy little sounds, she slid her mouth back and forth, wondering if she could wake him up with an orgasm.

She couldn’t. Dan jerked awake while she was going down on him. His right leg twitched, and the sudden movement made him hit the back of her throat, making her gag. In his confusion, Dan tried to grab her shoulder, but his hand was too weak from sleep. She hoped she hadn’t hurt him.

Freya looked up at Dan, searching his face. It was impossible to read him in the faint light of the fireplace. She slipped her mouth off, suddenly sure she had made a terrible mistake. She was just about to apologize when he spoke, still sounding sleepy and befuddled.

“Oh, wow. Sorry, I was just surprised.”

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I can stop.”

“No, you don’t have to. I like it.”

Dan reached out a hand and stroked the side of her face. She smiled back and held him, enjoying the way he twitched in her hand. She watched his eyes carefully, trying to make sure she wasn’t gripping too hard. She slid her hand up and down, enjoying a new urgency in his expression. He lifted himself from the bed to thrust into her hand, and she gripped tighter and watched his eyes roll upward.

“Good morning,” Freya purred. Whatever he tried to say back came out as more moan than language.

“Lie back,” she instructed, feeling a thrill when he did it right away. She drew the comforter off. When everything was situated, she took him in her mouth again, more forcefully than before. But when she looked up to see how she was doing, Dan winced.

“Are you okay? Does that hurt?” she asked.

“No! Well, um…” Dan fumbled with embarrassment. “Your teeth. It’s just a little too much.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry! Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop. Just, um, less teeth if you can.”

Freya felt ashamed. She wanted to quit, but she felt like she had to go on. She lowered her eyes and tried a different way, letting her lips fold back over her teeth and cradling with her tongue.

Dan made a sound, and she hesitated, afraid she’d messed up again.

“Yeah, like that,” Dan assured her.

She continued, ramping up the pressure slowly, searching for the right way. Dan rose back against her, trying to get more of himself into her mouth. At first, all she could think about was concentrating on not clipping him with her teeth, but she got the swing of it. She liked the sounds Dan was making, little restrained gasps. He wanted to be quiet, but he couldn’t.

Dan gripped his inner thigh with his left hand. His right slipped down her shoulder and found her left breast. Freya shut her eyes and made an urgent sound with her mouth full.

Freya felt Dan throbbing, and she knew he was close. Suddenly, she realized she had no idea what to do now. She had an awful fear she might gag and throw up if he came in her mouth. It would be safer to stop and finish him off with her hand. But a low certainty undermined the thought. She’d come too far and didn’t want to stop.

Dan’s whole body tensed as he came, and her mouth was full of the taste of him. She felt each individual spurt of his orgasm, the tingling feeling from before was much more intense now. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, so she kept going until he gripped her shoulder. His eyes were wide open with alarm. It was too much.

She’d swallowed everything and felt a little ashamed of herself. Something was missing. She hadn’t come and didn’t feel like she could. Had Unity ruined her for normal sex? What if she couldn’t get off without it?

Dan crashed against the bed with a contented sound, he was almost purring. At least he seemed happy. Freya felt empty and dejected, wondering if this was a mistake. The idea had seemed so daring and adult, but now she felt a little tarnished. Why did Unity have to end? Everything felt so hollow without it.

Neither of them knew what to say. Freya crawled up in bed beside Dan, lying with her back to him. He draped an arm over her and got closer, but she still felt apart. She wondered if he would be insulted if she got up and brushed her teeth again. Dan kissed the back of her neck, sliding his hand down her stomach.

“Don’t,” she said too sharply.

“Are you sure? I want to,” Dan offered. She knew she’d hurt him. She nearly agreed just so he wouldn’t feel bad.

“Just hug me, please,” Freya asked. She couldn’t understand how people did this. It was so awkward and difficult. There were words she wanted to say, but she didn’t trust herself to say them. His penis softened against her, fleeting and sad.

“Are you okay?” Dan whispered, and she nodded, her eyes a little damp. Everything she felt was wrong, but she didn’t want to put that on Dan. There was an unsettled feeling in her stomach, and she bit it back. How awful would he feel if she threw up?

“I miss you,” he said quietly, and she turned back to him, peering into his eyes for an answer. Glittering in the darkness was the same discontent. They were incomplete.

“I miss you, too,” Freya said. She was so glad he understood.

She wanted to kiss him, but she hesitated, afraid he would be grossed out after what she’d done. But Dan wasn’t squeamish. He kissed her and pulled her closer to him. They clenched one another as tightly as they could, something desperate in the way their tongues lashed each other.

No matter how they tried, they couldn’t get there. They detached as they waited for the rumblings of a Unity that never came. She turned towards the door again. Dan buried his face in her hair and inhaled her smell.

Freya shut her eyes and drifted. Soon, she felt the little twitches as Dan fell back asleep. She envied him. The first rays of dawn illuminated the snow outside.

As the sun stole in, Freya had an urge to check her phone. It was usually the first thing she did in the morning. But her battery was dead by now, and she had no intention of charging it. She didn’t want to be found. Golden light climbed across the floor as she slipped into a flimsy daydream, the sort that would dissolve at the slightest interruption.

She pictured them leaving the hotel, bundled in their coats with the Toyota’s heater cranked as high as it could go. They pulled up to Waterford Road, about to turn east and return home to Sillas. But then Dan looked over at her with a smile and turned the other way just as Unity echoed around them.

They would head west to Chicago, southwest to Denver, and then across the Rockies. The Toyota would pull them through Utah and Nevada, all the way to the Pacific Ocean. Three thousand miles away where no one could find them, where the winter could never catch Freya again.

The sunlight caught her instead, shining into her eyes, and the impossible dream broke apart. Of course, they couldn’t do that. Her money would run out, and they’d be stranded on the wrong side of the country, living in a car. The Toyota probably couldn’t even make it there. Her guitar was at home, and she couldn’t possibly leave it behind. It was all a childish fantasy. When Dan found it in Unity, she didn’t know if he would laugh at her or pity her.

Freya slipped free from his grasp and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She stared at her reflection, trying to decide who she was.