My Femboy System

I woke up with Jules’ foot in my face. Again.

Not that I minded, exactly. He had surprisingly soft skin for someone who spent half the day causing chaos. But there’s something humbling about opening your eyes to the scent of lavender lotion and a toe dangerously close to your mouth. Maybe I needed my own bed. Or maybe I just needed to stop recruiting such clingy femboys.

I stretched, yawning theatrically as I kicked him off me.

"You drool in your sleep," I muttered.

Jules blinked up at me. "You snore. Like a haunted church bell."

Touche.

The townhouse was unusually quiet. No Roderick polishing his boots. No Miko cooking in silence like a domestic serial killer. And no Elian flirting with the furniture.

I padded down the narrow hallway, the wood creaking beneath my feet, and peeked into the common room.

Empty. Odd.

I scratched my head, hair sticking out in a thousand directions. Then I noticed the note pinned to the fireplace with a butter knife.

Gone to scout. Roderick thinks someone’s onto us. Stay inside. Don’t do anything weird. —Miko.