“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner,” Corra exclaimed as she paced her Dionysian quarters for what would probably be the last time. She was set to leave on the Beacon in just a few hours. She’d come over to the Dionysian to say goodbye and maybe ask Leta for one of her miraculous hangover cures, but all her concerns about that had faded instantly when her friend had shared some news of her own.
“It only happened last night,” Leta put in quietly, sitting on the edge of Corra’s bed, looking a little flushed.
“That was like–” Corra paused as she counted, “–ten hours ago.” But no matter how many hours had passed, whatever annoyance she felt was far overruled by her fascination with the tale. Ceasing her pacing, she hurried over to Leta and plopped down beside her. “I can’t believe you almost slept with him. In the bridge of all places.”
“Neither can I,” Leta groaned. “Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Or you were thinking more clearly than ever,” Corra suggested with a careless shrug. “Except for the not-shutting-the-door part.” At her side, Leta winced and Corra felt a pang of guilt. She wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “Hey now, I’m sure Cy-Cy’s seen worse. He’ll survive. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a single woman now, you can do what you want. And who you want.” She grinned innocently.
Leta, however, wasn’t as amused. “It’s a little … soon, don’t you think?” Soon, since Ren, she must have meant. It was only a few weeks ago, a month now?
But Corra immediately said, “No,” and meant it. “I don’t see why you should hold yourself back on his account. Life is short. What’s the point of wasting time feeling guilty? Too soon, too late, it’s irrelevant. Live your life. Don’t feel bad. Don’t worry about what people think. Sleep with Fiearius.”
Leta’s gaze moved up to her and she frowned. “But–”
“Unless you don’t want to,” Corra added hurriedly. “But considering this isn’t the first time you almost have, I kinda doubt that. There’s obviously something there. Just do it. Get it out. You’ll feel better and you can move on.”
As confident as Corra was in her theory, her friend seemed hardly convinced. “I’m really not so sure of that,” she mumbled beneath her breath, but Corra wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer.
“Trust me, chika, getting laid will do you so much good,” she cooed as she affectionately twirled a strand of Leta’s hand around her finger. But trust wasn’t exactly what she saw in Leta’s small, amused smile. Corra frowned sadly. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it? I hate leaving you in the middle of this.”
“I thought you said you were going to call me so often I’d hardly even notice you’re gone,” Leta pointed out with a light chuckle.
“True,” Corra agreed, leaning her head on her shoulder. “But I’m still gonna miss you terribly.”
Leta smiled easily in return. “Me too.”