Chapter 46: "A Viking Girl and A Lion. Part Two."

February 7, 11:00 PM. Residential District of Dreamside, Harry’s house.
Mia sits on the sofa in the living room in front of a large TV, dressed in a black crop top that bares her midriff and a short black pleated miniskirt that barely conceals her white thong. Next to her sits Katia in a crisp white blouse, a dark navy blazer, and dark wide-leg pleated trousers. Both girls are playing the fighting game Jashin Reapers on PS5.
“Harry has taste in games,” says Mia. “Although it seems to me Diva Fiola can fully reach her own ass with her tits if she bends a little.” She giggles, commenting on the video game character.
Wild screams come from the bedroom.
“Whoa, Vilde has really gone wild. Poor Harry.” Mia glances at Katia. “What did you tell her? You two cooed for about thirty minutes. And I thought you were going to join them.”
“Just some encouraging words,” Katia says with a knowing smile. “I suggested she be more direct.”
Mia giggles, looking at the screen, focusing on the game. After a few seconds she says, “Thanks for agreeing to come. After that text message from Vilde about how this guy doesn’t have a lion dick, I started feeling sick. In the sense that I imagined I’d have to work as a psychologist and counsel their first sex… Vilde is a virgin in general.”
Something falls in the bedroom and orgasmic moans ring out.
“Well, now she’s not a virgin anymore,” adds Mia.
“Virginity is a social construct,” Katia replies with a sardonic smirk, her fingers pressing the controls as she dodges an attack from Diva.
A particularly loud cry from Vilde is punctuated by the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall.
“Let’s hope he has a sturdy bed.” Mia smirks. “Fuck, Katia, you play too well. Those fingers of yours, hardened by playing the piano, drawing and masturbation…”
Katia winces as she lands a perfect combo, sending the female fighter flying across the screen in a shower of sparks. “I have many talents,” she says with a smirk, not looking away from the game. “Unlike some people who can only cook and flirt.”
Mia scoffs, her fingers tightening around the controller. “I can do more than just cook and flirt, you know.” She presses a button with perfect timing, and her character counters Katia’s attack. “I also talk too much. And eavesdrop on my friends’ first times.”
She is silent for a few seconds, then adds, “And I also made a thousand valentines. I’ll flood all the local guys with them. Except for Alex from the Château. I’ll give him something special.”
An orgasmic scream from Vilde comes from the bedroom. “Faen ta deg!”
Mia giggles. “Fuck… Looks like Vilde’s ancestral genes have awakened. This happened, what’s it called…. How is it in Assassin’s Creed? Bleeding Effect? Weeding Effect? Well, anyway, that’s her all over. You know—every day she’s such a girl, like from Sesame Street, but when she gets aroused about something… I’d check on them, but I somehow don’t want to. Maybe you, Katia?”
Katia hums. “No thanks,” she replies smoothly, dodging a projectile. “I’ve already done my part. Don’t need to interrupt their first time.” Her fingers dance over the buttons as she delivers an aerial attack that sends her opponent flying across the stage.
“I gave her all the advice she needed,” Katia adds. “Now it’s Harry’s turn.”
The game music intensifies as Diva lands a brutal counterattack. Mia sighs irritably. “Fuck… did you pick Orange Crash on purpose? Looks like they buffed that little shit’s damage in the last update.” She comments on the character Katia is playing as. “I hope everything works out for Vilde and Harry. They seem to really like each other. And I hope she doesn’t break his dick with her pussy.”
Katia’s fingers pause for just a moment as she dodges a projectile with Orange Crash’s signature aerial maneuver. “The human body is remarkably resilient,” she says dryly, never looking away from the screen. “And Harry seems to enjoy the challenge.”
A terrible inhuman roar comes from the bedroom, hard to describe in words.
“Oh, and that’s already a draugr from Skyrim.” Mia comments, not looking away from the game. “I wonder, was that Vilde just now or Harry? Damn, I need to play through this TES again sometime. Another nine hundred hours of gameplay…”
The fighting game’s music pulses through the speakers as Mia’s character parries Katia’s attack with a flurry of swift inputs. Her face remains locked in concentration, though her lips curl into a smirk at the distant sounds of Vilde’s ecstasy.
Katia adjusts her grip on the controller, her fingers moving across the buttons with practiced ease. “I think that was Vilde,” she muses, her voice uncharacteristically distracted.
Mia laughs as she counters Katia’s combo with a devastating aerial that sends Orange Crash to the ground. “And my first sex wasn’t like that,” she says, glancing at Katia. “I didn’t wreck the whole room with wild screams. Vilde is a bit stereotypical that way. Cute and calm on the outside, but in reality… still waters run deep.”
Katia grins faintly as she parries Mia’s attack, focus on the game, nodding. “Stereotypes exist for a reason,” she says, fingers precise on the controller. “And Vilde’s certainly… energetic.”
A loud thud against the wall punctuates her words, then a guttural groan from Harry. Mia doesn’t flinch as she dodges Katia’s attack and lands a fierce counter, lips curling in amusement. “Yeah, but you know… it’s less about the screaming and more about the destruction. I don’t think that bed frame is going to last much longer.”
Katia’s fingers tighten on the controller as she lands a combo, grin steady. “The bed’s replaceable,” she says dryly. “Though I wonder if Harry’s dick will be in one piece tomorrow.”
Another crash from the bedroom—something heavy hits the floor. “Horror…” Mia whispers as she defeats Katia. “Just horror.”
A minute later her character stands victorious. On screen Diva Fiola poses, showing off her huge breasts, while Orange Crash lies on the ground covering herself with her hands, clothes completely torn.
“Phew, that was hard, but I managed,” Mia sighs, leaning back. “Tomorrow at college I’ll ask Vilde for all the details. If she doesn’t cripple herself tonight during sex.” She says it thoughtfully. “Maybe she’s going this wild in Harry’s bedroom on purpose, to injure herself and skip the test. Valid reason: tore her pussy having sex. Understand and forgive the poor 18-year-old child.”
Katia shakes her head with a small smile. “That girl has a lot of energy,” she says, stretching her fingers.
She glances toward the bedroom. Another muffled thud—bedframe or wall, hard to tell—echoes through the house. “Though I suspect Harry can handle it. Not all men are as… fragile as one might think.”
Mia smirks. “Oh, you definitely know that. You have a lot of them.” She shifts on the couch and looks at Katia, playful. “And you? That guy from your Music Club. What’s his name? George? Is it progressing, or do the escort side jobs embarrass him?”
Katia’s smirk holds. Her fingers pause. She adjusts on the couch, stretches her legs and crosses them. “George is… complicated. He has certain expectations that are… difficult to meet.” She tilts her head, crimson hair catching the light. “But I have my own standards. I refuse to service anyone who doesn’t earn at least $180,000. No exceptions.”
Mia giggles, rolling her eyes. “Oh yes. The famous Katia 180, aristocratic courtesan from Bulgaria, skilled pianist, DreamArts student and president of the ‘. Books should be written about you. Or erotic movies. Like those 1990s ones about some blonde in love with a professor, getting into scrapes all over the world…”
Katia raises an eyebrow. “The Adventures of Justine?”
Mia’s eyes widen. “Exactly!” Then, looking aside, thoughtful: “Although those movies are more my type. I’m a blonde. I love falling in love with professors, and when they don’t reciprocate I toss worms or snakes at them. Anyway. A plot with your data would be even more interesting.”
Katia smirks. “Yeah, you’re Justine from the Addams Family. And your skin keeps getting paler. You’ll soon be like snow.”
Mia pouts, resting her cheek on her hand. “Aw, I can’t help it. The darkness of my soul is eating me from the inside. I’m growing more transparent every day.” She walks her fingers like spider legs across her pale face. “Soon I’ll be a ghost who haunts college male teachers and steals their dreams.”
Katia scoffs. “If you were a ghost you’d steal their dreams about being ghost-fucked. You’re not a ghost. You’re just an extremely pale girl who likes to fantasize about being one.” She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously, skin whitening? You’re already the palest Spanish girl in the world. You can stop.”
Mia pouts again, hands on her face. “But I want to be the ghostliest. So pale people can see through me like a specter.” She shivers, pigtails bouncing. “Then I’ll haunt all those sexy male teachers’ dreams and make them fall in love with me. They’ll die of thirst for my ethereal presence. I’ll finally get the recognition I deserve.”
Katia shakes her head, amused. “You’re obsessed with being transparent. Like you want to disappear.”
They look at each other in silence for a few seconds. Menu music from the fighting game plays quietly. The sounds from Vilde and Harry in the bedroom have quieted, but they’re still there.
“So. About your obsession with mature men around thirty.” Katia says it slowly. “Just don’t tell me you’ve seriously fallen for this Alex from the Château. What ‘something special’ are you planning to give him for Valentine’s Day?”
“Yes,” Mia says cheerfully. “That’s exactly what I’m planning.”
Katia sighs. “So you really want to put that into practice? You decided Kate Norwin’s guy will climb into a coffin with you and have sex there? He’s open-minded from what I’ve heard, but you’re not that close. And it’s creepy. Fucked up. As far as we know, Kate and Alex are exclusive.”
Mia giggles, pale fingers tracing patterns on the couch. “Oh Katia, you’re so serious. I’m not planning to steal him from Kate. Not entirely, at least.”
Katia raises an eyebrow. “So what exactly are you planning?”
Mia leans in, pigtails bouncing. “A very special gift. A coffin-shaped box with dolls that have my face and his. And a letter saying I’ve fallen in love with him, I know he’s in love with Kate, but I want him to consider me too.”
Katia snorts. “So this lapdog of that golfer chick—a writer with a secret past who supposedly works for Sogni Nudi and hides from parties—is burning to get into a relationship with an 18-year-old you. Doubtful. But I wish you luck, friend.”
Mia giggles, unfazed. “You sound just like Vilde. So serious. I don’t expect him to jump into my arms right away. But he’s curious. And lonely. He’s a writer. He observes. I’ll be a story for him. Maybe he won’t get it at first. I’ll keep trying.”
Katia smirks. “He’s not lonely. He has Kate. Artist, actress, golfer, and just sexy. And that speech—quote from a soap opera? You’re the secondary character who brings the fun?”
Mia throws her head back. “You wound me with your cynicism. You think I’m a plot device? I’m a character in my own right.” She crosses her arms. “I’m going to be a character in Alex’s life story. Whether he realizes it or not. He observes everything. I’ll be the most interesting thing he’s seen in a long time.”
Katia giggles. “Poor Alex.” She listens. Vilde and Harry have almost gone quiet—only short chuckles now. “Looks like our rabbits wore themselves out.”
Mia cocks her head, pigtails swaying. “Maybe they’re taking a break. You know Vilde. Once she starts, she doesn’t stop easily.” She stands and stretches. “I’m getting hungry. Want to order pizza?”
Katia pats the couch cushion beside her. “Sit down, I’ll call.” She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through the app. “Extra cheese and pepperoni. And don’t get any ideas—this isn’t a date.”
Mia plops down next to Katia and pokes her playfully in the side. “Oh, come on… wouldn’t you like to do a little lesbian stuff with your friend? Meaning with me.”
Katia snorts as she finishes placing the order. “I’ve got my own rules, and you don’t fit into the $180,000 category.” She tosses her phone onto the coffee table and turns to face Mia properly. “And honestly, I’d rather not risk our friendship over a cheap thrill.”
Mia sighs theatrically, rolling her eyes. “So what? At least my parents fall into that category. Oh, you’re such a conservative prostitute…” She looks straight at Katia, twirling one of her pigtails around her finger. “Just imagine: the two of us in very tight panties and bras, having a pillow fight… We’ll even record a video for your George so he can jerk off nicely…” She sighs, still overacting. “Ah, and here I thought you didn’t turn Vilde and Harry’s first sex into a threesome because you wanted to play around with me this evening…”
Katia arches an eyebrow, her green eyes glinting with amusement. She crosses her legs, the fabric of her dark pleated trousers rustling softly. “I’m not a ‘conservative prostitute.’ I just have standards.” She leans back slightly, resting her arms along the back of the couch.
Mia hums mockingly, tilting her head so her pigtails sway. “Yeah, yeah, your standards are so high you won’t even entertain the idea of fucking your best friend.” She reaches over and pokes Katia’s cheek playfully. “Such a pity. We could’ve had so much fun.”
Katia sighs dramatically, swatting Mia’s hand away. “And then what? You’d fall in love with me and stalk me around Dreamside? No, thank you.” She shakes her head. “Besides, I don’t need to fuck my friends to have fun with them.” She gestures at the TV. “We’re having plenty right now.”
Mia giggles. “Yeah, yeah… Alright, fine. But still think about it in your free time. Like you and me… maybe Vilde… maybe even George and Harry.” She sighs. “Oh, midnight is coming soon. When are they finally going to deliver the pizza? Honestly, I didn’t think this would last so long… I mean Vilde and Harry’s date. It’s just that Vilde was so nervous, and I decided to help, then pulled you in too…” She leans back. “Honestly we should have scheduled her date for the weekend, not Wednesday…”
Mia thinks, then stands up from the sofa, takes the unfinished bottle of cola from the coffee table, and drains it in a couple of gulps. “Anyway, it’s decided: I’m not going to college tomorrow, fuck it. You neither, by the way. Tomorrow we have a sudden holiday on the occasion of our Norwegian baby losing her virginity.”
Katia chuckles, shaking her head. “You’re such a bad girl. But I won’t argue with that.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Though I should probably show up for at least one lecture tomorrow.” Her green eyes flick toward the TV. “But fine. A half-day holiday.”
At that moment sounds come from the bedroom again, then Vilde’s scream in Norwegian is heard. “Herre min hatt!”
Mia shouts in Spanish toward the bedroom, trying to make Vilde hear her. “¡Madre mía, ¿qué sombrero ni qué carajo?! ¡Eso no es sexo, es un asesinato!” She looks at Katia. “They’re going to have at least a dehydration problem if they don’t take a proper break.”
Katia rolls her eyes but smiles. “That’s why I also ordered a kombucha to go along with the pizza—hydration is key when you’re working out.” She stretches. “Besides, I don’t think they’re going to stop anytime soon. She wanted to break in her first dick properly, didn’t she?”
Mia flops back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “True. Vilde’s always been a fan of thorough preparation.” She peers at Katia slyly. “Speaking of thorough preparations, how long do you think she’ll last before she needs a break? I’m thinking at least another half hour, minimum.”
Katia tilts her head. “Oh, I’d say at least an hour. Maybe longer if Harry’s got the stamina to keep up.” She glances at the TV screen, where their paused game is still showing.
Mia nods sagely, crossing her legs. “Mmhmm, that’s what I thought. And speaking of stamina…” She lifts a perfectly manicured eyebrow at Katia. “How’s your, uh, extracurricular work been lately? Any particularly… interesting clients?”
Katia’s expression remains neutral, but there’s a knowing glint in her green eyes. She adjusts her posture slightly, crossing her arms. “Oh, you know. The usual. Everything is casual.” A dry smirk forms. “Though I did have one guy the other day who was… strange.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought he was a Dom, but ended up being a complete submissive. Couldn’t even handle the basics.” She chuckles at the memory. “Took me less than five minutes to flip the script on him.”
Mia snorts, amused. “Serves him right for thinking he could boss you around. Katia 180 is a force to be reckoned with.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “So… he’s okay?”
Katia smirks. “Yes. But he’ll definitely need therapy after this.”
The sounds from the bedroom have subsided to low murmurs and occasional giggles.

Mia and Katia keep talking about this and that. Half an hour later the pizza delivery with kombucha finally arrives.
By now Vilde and Harry have gone completely quiet in the bedroom. Mia can’t stand the curiosity. She walks into Harry’s bedroom without knocking and sees…
“So… Looks like you’re going to need repairs, Tom Thumb.” Mia glances over the wreck of the room. “Well then… A real Fallout.” She looks at Harry and Vilde on the huge wide bed. “Fucked enough already? We’ve got pizza with kombucha out there, just so you know.”
Harry and Vilde lie completely naked on the crumpled sheet. The rest of the bedding hangs at chandelier height. The pair looks like survivors after a hard battle.
“Pee… Pee… Peezzza?… Pizza? Tower of Pizza? Like in Italy?” Vilde squeaks. “I… I mean… we were just…”
Mia looks at them with a knowing grin. “Oh, I know exactly what you were doing. You weren’t just ‘just.’”
Katia appears in the doorway behind Mia and speaks without emotion. “The bed definitely needs to be replaced. I can see it from here.” She steps forward and surveys the wreckage. She raises an eyebrow. “You two have completely destroyed it. The headboard is practically hanging from the ceiling.”
Mia giggles, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Poor bed…”
Vilde moans incoherently. Harry does too.
Mia moves closer to Vilde and bends down to look her in the eye. “So… is that a good moan or a ‘my vagina might fall out’ moan?”
Vilde tries to sit up a little. She gasps. “No… Maybe… No.” She glances at Harry. “…Right?”
Harry nods weakly and gasps. “No… no, definitely not… not falling out…”
Katia steps closer to the bed and examines the damage with clinical interest. “You two have certainly put in a full shift.” She gestures at the headboard hanging precariously from the wall. “I’d estimate this is the work of at least a solid hour of continuous activity.”
Mia leans back against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Told you it would be loud,” she says to Katia.
Katia shrugs. “You were right. Though I must say, the room’s destruction is a bit more impressive than I expected.” She turns to Vilde and Harry. “Are you two finished? Or do you need another round?”
Mia laughs hard. “Oh, have mercy on Harry’s house! Katia, I think you need to discuss with these two… ummm… the topic of proper handling of property. Otherwise these teenagers of 18 and 27 years old will keep breaking everything during sex.” She looks at Harry, who is trying to come to his senses. “27 years old, and fucks like at 16! This isn’t a lion’s dick, this is a mutant lion’s dick!”
Katia nods. “Indeed, Mia. I think they need to be reminded about the difference between a bed and a jungle gym.” She gestures at the headboard hanging at a precarious angle. “I believe, Harry, that you need to practice some restraint… and perhaps invest in more sturdy furniture.” She turns to Vilde, who has managed to sit up a little. “And you, dear, need to learn to pace yourself. A marathon, not a sprint.”
Vilde groans and flops back onto the mattress with a bounce. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can… move,” she admits, her words strained.
Harry stays silent for a moment, still catching his breath. He gazes at Vilde and reaches out to touch her hand.
“Yeah… um… I think Katia’s right,” he finally manages. “I didn’t think we’d… break the bed like this.”
Mia saunters to the foot of the bed and perches there. She crosses her arms, grinning at the wreckage, then looks at Vilde. “You know what this means, right? You’re going to have to help Harry buy a new one.”
Vilde pouts a little, too exhausted to commit to it. “I don’t… I don’t even think I can stand up right now,” she admits. Her legs quiver as she tries to move them under the covers.
Mia giggles. “Oh well, you’d better get used to it. Harry here has stamina like a…”
“…like a real lion,” Katia finishes.
Vilde’s breath is still uneven. She glances at Harry. “It was… good,” she admits quietly.
Mia leans forward and grins. “Oh, we can see that. Your face says ‘my vagina exploded’ more than ‘I’m broken,’ so I think you’ll survive.”
Katia nods. “Indeed. But Vilde… I must ask…” She pauses. “Does Harry really have a lion’s dick?”
Vilde blinks and looks at Harry, then back at Katia. A small, slightly confused smile plays on her lips. “I dunno… Maybe it’s… not exactly a lion,” she says, her Norwegian accent curling around the words. “Maybe more like… a very cute kitten? But he is very fast! Like a little racer!”
Harry lets out a weak, breathless laugh and stares at the ceiling.
Mia looks at Harry’s genitals. She shifts closer and looks at his dick.
“Well… You know, Vilde, this is definitely not a champagne flute. But it’s not that big either. It’s… unique. Every male dick is unique—I know this, because I’m an experienced penisologist.” She brings her face closer to Harry’s dick. “Dicks—they’re like snowflakes in the sky. Each one is unique.” She leans back and looks at Vilde. “I also want to try Harry’s dick. Do you mind?”
Vilde blinks, still foggy. She looks at Mia, then at Harry, who has frozen mid-breath. A slow, tired smile spreads across her face. “Of course! Harry is very nice. He can… share!” she chirps, her Norwegian accent softening the edges of the sentence.
Katia lets out a sharp, melodic laugh, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe. “Oh, yeah… That’s your penisologia… Truly, your academic pursuits are inspiring. I shall add this to your resume under ‘Specialized Field Research.’” She glances at Harry’s modest equipment with a clinical, aristocratic detachment. “Though I suspect the research sample is rather… concise.”
Harry clears his throat, his voice raspy and small. “I mean… if Vilde is okay with it…” Mia doesn’t wait for a second invitation. She scoots forward on the mattress, movements erratic and feline, high pigtails bouncing with every shift. She leans over Harry, mascara-heavy eyes wide with predatory curiosity. She observes him like a strange insect under a microscope.
“Sample size is irrelevant to the experience of the sample,” Mia declares, her voice airy and whimsical. She reaches out, fingers grazing the skin with a light, teasing touch. “It’s all about the vibe. The energy. The tiny-ness of it is actually kind of aesthetic. It’s like a miniature sculpture.”
Vilde giggles, propping herself up on one elbow. She looks entirely content, light blonde hair clinging to her damp skin. “See? Mia likes it! I told you, Harry, you are a racer! And a real lion, despite its size.” Mia’s small hands wrap around Harry’s flaccid cock with exaggerated care. She examines it with the focused attention of an entomologist handling a fascinating specimen. Her fingers move lightly, pressing and exploring in slow, methodical motions.
“Interesting texture,” she muses. “Plump, but compact. Very unique.” Her thumb rubs along the underside, almost clinically. “This would be… like a pomegranate. Not a full pomegranate, of course. But a good pomegranate, nonetheless.”
Harry shifts slightly under her attention. He doesn’t say anything. Katia watches with detached amusement, head tilted as she observes Mia’s exploration. “Oh, this looks like it’s going to last all night,” she says with a chuckle. “So, you have a day off tomorrow, right?” she addresses Harry. “Mia and I also decided not to go to college tomorrow. I think Vilde won’t be able to anyway.” She glances at Vilde, who is unsuccessfully trying to get up from the bed, then shifts her gaze to Mia. “Mia is into penises like rare species of animals. I still can’t figure out if this is a rofl or not.” A slow, tired smile spreads across Harry’s face as he lets out a quiet chuckle. His voice comes out hoarse, almost whispering. “I think I might need… some recovery time after this. Yeah.”
Mia’s grip tightens momentarily before she releases it entirely. “Recovery time? Oh please, you’ve got a professional athlete’s stamina. Look at that beautiful coloration!” She gestures with her hand like a conductor leading an invisible orchestra. “The way the glans reflects light is exquisite. And the ridges here…”
Katia snorts. “You’re describing it like a science project, Mia. Though I have to admit…” She leans forward, elbow on the armrest, studying Harry’s anatomy with academic interest. “The symmetry is undeniable. Almost like a work of art.” Mia lets out a sudden, sharp giggle that sounds like a glitching toy. She flops backward onto the mattress, pigtails bouncing wildly against the fabric. “Art! Yes! A miniature sculpture of a very tired shrimp!” She reaches up, poking Harry’s thigh with a single finger. “Does the shrimp need a nap, or does the shrimp want more visitors?”
Vilde groans, her voice thick with exhaustion. She manages to prop herself up on one elbow. “He’s… he’s a very hardworking shrimp,” she murmurs, her Norwegian accent slipping through. She looks at Harry with genuine affection, still breathless. “But I think the bed is officially dead. We killed the furniture.” Harry’s chuckle is low and strained, his body still recovering from the exertion. “Yeah… I think I officially made an upgrade to the furniture fund.” Mia springs up with sudden, erratic energy, pigtails whipping around like twin antennas. She leans over Harry, large eyes wide and blinking rapidly. “Furniture fund! Financier shrimp!” she chirps, her voice jumping an octave. She reaches out and lightly taps the tip of his penis with a manicured nail. “Boing! Does it still bounce? Or is the spring broken?”
Katia rolls her eyes and shifts to lounge like she’s posing for a gallery portrait. “Oh, maaaan.” She glances at Harry, detached and amused. “Though the ‘shrimp’ label is quite fitting. It has a certain… quaint charm. Like a vintage postcard from a very small village.”
Harry lets out a dry chuckle, his breath still uneven. “Yeah, I get it. I’m the Lilliputian wonder.” The strain in his voice undercuts the joke. The muscles in his abdomen twitch as he tries to stay composed.
Mia claps her hands, then suddenly squats near his face. She cups her chin in both hands and stares at him, intense and animated. “Oh, Harry Smiles! The world’s first nanotech sex toy! You’re cutting-edge technology! Nano Harry!”
Harry blinks up into Mia’s enormous brown eyes. Katia watches with theatrical exasperation.
“Honestly, Mia,” she says, tilting her head, “you act like you’ve never seen a penis before.”
Mia gasps and clutches her chest. “Miss Georgieva! I’m shocked at your accusation!” She throws her head back, blonde pigtails swinging like pendulums, then snaps upright. “I’ve seen so many penises, it’s like watching the same movie over and over but with slightly different camera angles!” She flicks her fingers toward Harry. “This is just a… a regional variation!”
Harry exhales a tired laugh. His body starts to relax.
Vilde scoots closer and drapes an arm across his torso. “He’s not a variation, Mia,” she murmurs, fingers tracing circles on his stomach. “He’s my Harry. My lion.”
Mia’s grin widens. Her head bobs. “Oh, yes! The mighty lion!” She gives an exaggerated nod. “Mia is also lion. Mia and Harry are both lions. Very small, fluffy lions.” She clasps her hands and peers down at him. “Poor lion. Poor, brave little lion.”
Harry groans and shakes his head. “You’re really milking this, aren’t you?” He gives Vilde a light nudge.
Vilde giggles and presses her cheek against his shoulder. “I don’t mind,” she says, voice drowsy. “It’s… endearing.” She looks up at him. “You were great.”
Mia claps again, pigtails bouncing as she perches on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Harry! You were amazing! Like a jackhammer of love!”
Katia smirks. “Such a brave warrior. Taking on the mighty Vilde all by himself.”
Vilde nuzzles into Harry’s neck, fingers still tracing patterns on his skin. “He was fantastic.” She giggles, then whispers, “Maybe we should give him a medal. Or a cape. Yes, a cape!”
Mia’s eyes light up. “Ooh, yes! A cape! And a little tiny sword!” She mimes a minuscule blade. “Sir Harry the Lion of the Tiny Blade! Defender of Lionesses!”
Harry laughs into the pillow. “I’m retiring from knighthood,” he mutters. He doesn’t push Vilde away. “The requirements for the medal are too high.”
Mia tilts her head and stares at him, wide-eyed. “Retirement? No, no! Mia thinks Harry needs a training montage!” She leaps off the bed, lands with a soft thud, and starts bouncing on her heels. Pigtails sway like metronomes. “More protein! More squats! We make the shrimp into a lobster! A giant, red, snapping lobster of passion!”
Katia rolls her eyes and leans back against the wall. “Please, Mia. Let the lion breathe.”