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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

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Whenever Cora bothered to draw a bath, she would do so with scalding hot water. There was something utterly off-putting about the idea of going to so much effort for something lukewarm. She lived in extremes this way, steaming hot baths and ice cold showers, both an attempt to regulate her body when her emotions became unruly. Ice cold showers were for when the world around her didn't seem real, when she found herself untethered from her body, on the come down or otherwise incredibly hungover. Showers were for pressing one's back against the tiled wall and slowly sinking to the ground, hugging knees to chest and fighting the urge to jerk away from the frigid spray.

Baths in comparison were for stewing in, for doing a thorough rinsing of the soul. Hot water was cleansing. She would boil in her thoughts until her fingers and toes pruned, water milky with suds. Cora dropped a bath bomb into the tub as she surveyed the water and the steam that was crawling off its surface.

After she'd discarded her bathrobe, she skimmed her fingers over top of the water. Satisfied, Cora gingerly edged one foot into the water, hissing under her breath. It scalded her body as she lowered herself down, but her movements were unyielding, forcing herself to sink into the tub. When she had submerged herself up to her shoulders, she lifted a foot to switch off the stream still pumping through the tap.

The bathroom fell into silence. Cora drifted lower, submerging her ears until her hearing was dulled. The heat stung, but it was a manageable pain, the closest thing to a knife's edge that she trusted herself with. God only knew she was a glutton for punishment.

Listening to the distant echo of her heartbeat, she closed her eyes.

Argestes had ended as it had began; jarringly and with Cora feeling like the butt of some cruel cosmic joke. The article had broken and Cora had been tasked with playing defense with Nan Pierce while the Roys conducted a press conference, which had gone about as well as one could expect. Nan hadn't been overly suspicious of Cora when she'd shown up with a proposal for lunch outside of the retreat, given the ridiculous pricing of food within the retreat itself.

Over lunch they made light small talk while Cora's fingers itched to use her phone for updates on the press conference the Roys were holding in response to the article. Shiv hadn't been happy that Roman and Kendall had been chosen to field questions and Cora didn't blame her. Apart from the obvious reputational blow, she'd been unnerved by how cavalier Roman and Kendall had found the contents of the article.

Cora mulled this over internally while playing with her food, poking at it with the silver prongs of her fork. Nan switched the conversation to something equally as stomach churning.

"So, have you thought about my offer?"

"Well, I feel like I owe Frank, as much as-" Cora said, her voice faltering. She'd known the conversation was inevitable, given how they'd left off when she'd visited the Pierce's.

"As much as he's the step-father you never wanted?" Nan smiled, lifting her tea cup from its saucer as she took a sip. Cora winced, struggling to keep a pleasant smile on her lips. Nan chuckled warmly as she replaced her teacup.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I can't help myself. Youth! I'm so very jealous of the naivety young people have to assume their problems aren't as transparent as they are. And don't screw up your face at that, your 30s are still nubile. Get to my age and see how you feel then." She tapped the side of her nose. "I'm being kind. Your generation is so quick to confuse anything that isn't a pat on the back as a slap in the face."

"Yeah, all those participation medals, huh?"

"You say that in jest but there's some truth to it. Let's move past that for the moment though, I don't have nearly enough mental fortitude to spar with you about generational differences. What I do have time for is the proposal. You at PGM." She spread her arms as if questioning how Cora could be so stupid to reject such a concept. "A managerial position, get you trained up, maybe one day COO? My nieces, they're lovely girls but they simply don't have drive."

"And I do?" Cora said, interrupting her.

"Look at you! Of course you do. I know those rags that Logan has have called you all sorts of names, but truly, Cora, look at how far you've come. Albeit in the wrong crowd and in service to the wrong company, but you'd be the first to admit you aren't perfect." Nan's eyes sparkled as she spoke. "I want to keep things in the family, so to speak, and you know how I feel about Frank, and felt about your mother. It was such a tragedy, her dying so young. She was a great woman."

She was addicted to opiates and was allergic to the company of her daughter, Cora wanted to counter, but she kept her lips sealed. All of the people her mother had known spoke highly of her, sometimes it made Cora wonder if she had dreamt her entire childhood. How could someone so regarded have hurt her so deeply?

"But you don't have a future with Waystar. Not because you don't possess potential, but ... well, put something in a damp environment and it's only a matter of time until the mould blooms."

"Why strike a deal with Logan if you think so negatively of him?" Cora said with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Keep your enemies close. You know that, perhaps too well."

Cora blushed, biting her lip. "Yeah, ok, you got me there."

"Some motherly advice? Keep your distance from that Kendall. The man is brainwashed like you wouldn't believe. Shiv, I like. She could work with you at PGM, perhaps you could try to convince her to." Roman's name remained unmentioned and Cora felt rather untempted to change that.

"I just don't know how useful I would be in a position like that." Cora muttered sheepishly. "I barely know anything, and everything I've done as a board member has been like playing Russian Roulette. It's like I have one in the chamber but I don't know who it's pointed at, I'm just making uneducated guesses and then handling the fallout."

"That's as much as you can expect. The fact you're still around in an active way though says enough. Logan would've taken any excuse to put you on the back burner. Clearly he thinks you're useful."

Maybe a little too useful.

Cora had assured Nan she would think it over. When she'd arrived back at the retreat, she'd been met out the front by a worried looking Greg. He'd filled her in as they walked to meet up with the family, his voice taking on a hushed tone. Cora's eyes started off narrowed and widened with each new string of information. Shiv had crashed the conference and had completely fumbled any attempt to smoothly navigate the scandal.

"So I just spent an entire lunch trying to soften the landing, only for them to go and crash the plane." Cora muttered. "Awesome."

"And the worst part was when she implied Logan was a bit, y'know ... " Greg trailed off, clearly embarrassed to be repeating something he felt he shouldn't. "She called him the d word."

"The d word?"

"Yeah, uh, you know. Prehistoric. Primitive. Godzilla." Greg suddenly retracted his arms to his sides, attempting to impersonate the sound of Godzilla. Though the corridor was sparse, the few people they passed shot him reproachful looks.

"Dinosaur."

"Yeah, dinosaur."

"Got it. I won't bring up Jurassic World then."

In the bathtub, Cora sunk beneath the surface of the water, closing her eyes as she recalled the scene.

They arrived just after Logan had, cautiously following after Gerri as Marcia began to scold Shiv. Kendall and Roman were in the room, Tom was by his wife's side. Logan was furious, his anger radiating like heat off tarmac. It had all happened so quickly that she hadn't even registered it until Kendall had thrown himself forward, roaring in his father's face. She had been frozen, unsure of what to do as Roman spat his tooth onto the ground below. As he passed her by, trying to retreat from Kendall's concerned hovering, she'd brushed a hand against his shoulder.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I'm fucking fine, alright? Jesus."

Her lungs ached for air but she held herself in place. When she'd been younger, she'd always wondered how they'd managed to get the ships into the bottle, the small decorative flowers into the lip gloss. Now she yearned for something similar, to be suspended and frozen in place as the world looked upon her but otherwise left her alone. That had been her old life after all, the drugs and alcohol numbing the weight of being perceived. God, why had she ever answered that call?

When her fingers and toes were sufficiently pruned and the water had faded from steaming to tepid, she rose from the bathtub and rinsed herself in the nearby shower.

Greg had contacted her soon after she'd arrived home, letting her know in a roundabout voicemail that he'd like to bring her blazer over and spend the evening with her. She waited a day before letting him know he was free to come over if he wanted to and he'd accepted quickly, offering to cook her dinner. Cora dressed herself in a pair of jeans and a loose grey sweater, leaving her damp hair down to air dry as she tidied up in the bathroom.

About an hour later and she heard the buzzer in the hallway sound. She'd buzzed him up, quickly brushing out her long dark hair with her fingers. After she'd answered the door, she let Greg in as he shifted his black backpack from his shoulders, chatting animatedly as he made his way to the kitchen.

"I went to the market on the way here to pick up some stuff because last time I was here you had like nothing in your pantry. I think I'm gonna make this pasta that I saw on tiktok, I screenshotted the recipe earlier and simple enough. I don't really cook much though, so I don't know if it'll be good. My roommate said to me once that I cook like an unlevelled Sim, I don't really know what he meant by that though, because I haven't played the Sims."

"Good intuition." Cora replied, unsure of how else to respond.

She hopped up onto the counter as he placed his backpack on the benchtop and unzipped it. His eyes widened, and Cora craned her head to look inside. There were several ingredients loosely contained within the backpack, nestled on top of her bright red blazer. Somehow during Greg's travels, the heavy cream he'd purchased had lost its top, spilling through his bag and coating the ingredients in a layer of white.

"Oh fuck, I-I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed, cringing. "I knew I felt something wet."

Cora opened her mouth to speak, giggling as she realised what he had said. "Greg, turn around for a second."

Sure enough there was a round greasy stain on his shirt where the cream had leaked through his bag.

"Had a little fun before you got here?"

"Does it look bad?"

"I mean, a little. You can just wash it, but I don't have any spare male shirts hanging around unfortunately." Cora replied. "Here, let me help you."

Greg stepped forward, almost sliding between her legs as she pulled at the bottom of his shirt. He raised his arms as she lifted it off his body, rolling the fabric into a ball. There was a small pause as her gaze lingered, observing the broad plain of his shoulders before she met his eyes.

"I better get this in the wash." She muttered.

"Oh, yeah. Don't want it to stain." Greg said with a nod. As Cora hopped down from the bench, he continued. "I'm sorry about your jacket."

"It's no problem." She said over her shoulder. "I can just get a new one."

As she put Greg's shirt into the wash, she listened to the distant sounds of clanging in the kitchen. She felt strangely nervous having him over, and found herself unsure of how she wanted the evening to progress. Yes, they still hadn't managed to actually have sex, but the longer they'd prolonged the event, the more Greg had tried to familiarise himself with her life. Yes it was in small ways, asking her for a date, picking up things for dinner, texting her about the minutiae of his day, but Cora had a hair trigger when it came to such matters. Would sleeping with him simply make things worse? She didn't know, and she was apprehensive to find out.

Slowly she made her way back into the kitchen to see what Greg was up to. He had his phone open on the kitchen counter and had began chopping up some garlic and onion. A saucepan sat above a flame, oil drizzled inside. As Greg upended the chopping board in, the pan sizzled aggressively.

"Oop! Bit hot, maybe." He said, glancing over his shoulder. "Look, I'm no Gordon Ramsey but I do know how to make a thing or two. I used to cook my lunches when I started at Waystar to bring in and save money ... "

As he spoke, Cora felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

[TEXT: Kendall] are you home?

Reflexively she turned away from Greg as she swiped the message app open, a blank expression on her face. Her eyes narrowed as she began to type, tuning out Greg's chattering in the background.

[TEXT: Cora] maybe. why??

[TEXT: Kendall] i'm outside

[TEXT: Cora] again why

[TEXT: Kendall] need to talk

Need to talk? Was this some kind of trap?

" ... bags to the office for a while, but Tom wasn't really all that keen on my choice of packaging. I explained it to him too, it's just a mental barrier reall-"

"Wait, mental barrier?"

"Yeah." Greg glanced over his shoulder, looking at her phone. "Are you talking to Kendall?"

Cora abruptly shut off her phone screen, stashing it into her pocket. She forced a smile on her face quickly, clasping her hands behind her back. "Maybe. I mean, yes, yes I am. He just asked for a quick word, so I might head downstairs to see what he wants."

"Do you wanna invite him up?" Greg said, pouring in a can of crushed tomatoes. Again, the stove sizzled aggressively. "There's gonna be plenty of food for the three of us."

Cora shook her head abruptly. "Oh no, it's ok. I want to keep this just between us. Hardly special if Kendall shows up."

"Oh yeah, that's a good point." He nodded, turning back to the stove and tentatively poked it into the saucepan. Cora wasn't sure if it was just her but she was beginning to detect the acrid tones of burnt food. Not wanting to concern herself with something she had neither the expertise nor the patience to rectify, she gave Greg a pat on the shoulder, leaving him to his own devices. As she moved towards the door, she shot Kendall a text to confirm she was coming down.

When she found him waiting out the front of the building, he had his back towards her, puffing at a cigarette. As Cora approached him, he turned slowly, acknowledging her with a nod and offering her his cigarette packet. She attempted to read his expression as she lit up, following him to a nearby bench that faced towards the apartment building. Cora found herself scouting the cars parked alongside the pavement, trying to find Kendall's company car.

"Told him to do a couple rounds of the block."

"Good luck to him. Traffic's pretty bad at this time of day." Cora mused.

She eased against the metal back of the bench, eyeing him from her peripheral vision. His trip to England with his family seemed to have shifted something in him. He wore a pout on his lips, his dark eyes downcast, shoulders slumped forward. Cora was unsurprised. It said a lot that they had been primarily parented by Logan, and by the way Shiv had spoken, Cora had figured this had been a relatively good outcome for the siblings.

Still, Cora had more than enough reason to suspect his mood had been caused by more than the act of visitation. Something must have happened. Something worth talking about.

"So ... " Cora said.

"So." Kendall repeated.

"So, how'd it go?"

He ran a hand through his hair, the short strands rippling beneath the sweep of his fingers. His other hand drifted to his side to ash his cigarette, thin grey flakes floating in the slight breeze.

"Just ... Yep. Pulled a lot of stuff into focus for me." He said, his voice thick as he spoke. Cora raised an eyebrow, looking expectantly for him to continue. "Uh, I think ... I tried ... My dad had me visit someone. Address something I've been trying to ignore."

"Ok." Cora said, frowning. "And ... What did you address?"

"You can't tell anyone this. That is, if I tell you. I haven't figure out if I'm going to or not, so it's kind of important that you're not a dick to me right now or I'll ... I'll just not."

Cora felt herself grow defensive at the implication of her words, barely managing to stop herself before she put her foot in her mouth. She gingerly lifted her cigarette to her lips, exhaling smoke through her nose.

"I promise I'm not going to be a dick to you."

"I mean it. It's sensitive."

"Kendall, I feel like I've proved that I know when to keep my mouth shut when it matters." She replied, keeping her tone measured. "Do you realise how many times I could have just thrown you under the bus about ... yeah."

She wondered what he was thinking, whether he would take what she was saying at face value and not question why. She didn't wouldn't have an answer for him if he did; she'd always stuck to her story that nothing had happened out of denial. If there was one thing she was grateful for, it was the fact that Kendall hadn't made it hard to live in that delusion.

"I killed someone." He said finally.

So have I.

The thought pops into her head before she can consider his words properly. She felt herself being jerked backwards, to the time right before her rehab stint. She'd gotten rather good at pretending like the scar on her conscience didn't exist, but that was cognitive dissonance. Sometimes it came skulking back though, usually in the middle of the night. When it did she refused sleep, simply not allowing the risk of hearing his laboured last breaths echoing in her dreams.

Late nights that circled into mornings, benders stretched lazy like summer humidity from weekends to weekdays. Stumbling through life without direction, chewing through friendships and flings like they were nothing, precisely because they were exactly that. Nothing. Not long before the incident she had taken molly and the fallout of it had sunk her into an inky depression, the kind where the light at the tunnel feels like a spit in the face. Years of running caught up to her finally as she lay paralysed, a void that had once been a pinprick in the distance enveloping her. And then it had happened, the rock bottom to her rock bottom.

It took Cora a moment to realise that she had been silent for quite some time. She exhaled audibly, the sound whooshing from her like that of a deflating balloon. Her body felt suddenly heavy, her eyelids drooping over her eyes.

"I should go." Kendall mumbled. He stood, straightening up.

"I'm just processing."

There was a jitteriness to his body as he traced the line of traffic with his eyes. "No, no it was a stupid idea even say anything. I shouldn't have bothered."

She reached upwards and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. Kendall grew still. Gingerly she rose to her feet as he turned to face her. He was terrified. She feared that he was going to burst into tears, but he held his composure. Cora didn't know what compelled her to hug him, but she did, wrapping her arms around his body and pressing her cheek to his chest. The smell of nicotine and cologne enfolded her. For a brief moment she tilted her ear to catch the sound of his heartbeat, a frantic thrum.

Just as quickly as it had happened, the hug was over. Cora pulled back, sheepishly casting her eyes downwards as she smoothed a dark strand of hair behind her ear. She stole a quick look upwards towards Kendall.

"You don't need to explain it to me." She said. "Not yet, at least."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think that's preferable." He replied, his voice slightly hoarse. "I don't even know what I'd say."

"There's probably no clean guide to confessing that kind of a thing." Cora said, laughing to ease the tension in her body. Kendall nodded. "I'm ... Obviously already assuming this but I'm guessing this isn't an American Psycho scenario, right?"

"Yeah, you're right."

"Ok good." Cora replied. "Because no offense but you're not really the Patrick Bateman type."

"Why do I feel like that's an insult?"

"I'm not going to psychoanalyse that."

They shared a moment of stilted laughter. The figure of the company car, dark and slick in the dwindling light, pulled into one of the empty spaces beside the pavement as they both fell silent. Cora nodded towards the car.

"Well, didn't take them as long as I thought."

"Yeah." Kendall replied. "Guess that's my cue. I'll, uh, see you on the plane ride to Scotland, right?"

"Don't think I could miss it if I tried." Cora replied, referring to Logan's 50th anniversary as CEO. "See you around."

"Yeah, you too."

She turned to walk back towards her building. Just as she had reached the top of the stairs, she heard him call her name, pausing in her tracks.

"Can I just ask you something?"

She was flooded with a sense of foreboding. The idea of saying no passed through her mind, overtaken only by the itch of curiosity. Slowly she turned around, nodding.

"Did you ever see me as more than a friend?"

Cora laughed. "I can't answer that."

"Why not?"

Why not? It was a good question. She'd spoken without thinking, had gone with the answer she had felt most comfortable with. As her brain struggled to formulate a response, questions of her own began to bubble up. Why are you even asking? Why haven't you let this go? Don't you hate me? Why is this the follow up to your confession of being a killer?

"You were married." She said finally.

"But I'm not anymore, so you can tell me now."

"I can't do this Kendall, not right now." She swept a hand through her hair, scrunching it in her fingers. "And before you ask why again, think about the fact I knew your family. Think about the fact I knew you had kids."

"Just answer the question." Kendall replied. "It shouldn't be this hard to say yes or no."

"Goodnight Kendall." She turned her back to him, reaching into her pocket for her keys.

In the comfort of the elevator, she pressed her back against the cold surface of the back wall, closing her eyes. As it began to rise, she slowly crouched down, folding her arms in front of her face. Without thinking, she shoved her foot forward, striking it against the wall beside her. The action sent her sprawling, landing on her tailbone with a cry as her foot began to throb.

Cora hissed under her breath, but as the sharpness of the pain subsided, she felt the warm ebb of endorphins flood her system. Her mind barely registered the idea as she scrambled to her feet. She turned to face the back wall, a floor to ceiling mirror that reflected her wide eyed expression. She felt unnerved by how little she recognised herself in her own face. Yes those were her eyes, dark brown and almond shaped, bloodshot and unfocused. Those were her lips and her cheeks, anaemic in their pallor, her cheekbones drawn hollow. Yes it was her, and at the same time it wasn't.

The elevator dinged as it reached her floor. Her own hand collided with her cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating against the metal around her as she recoiled from her own touch. A small yelp left her lips on impact. Cora straightened up as the doors behind her slide open, giving herself one last look.

There it was, that dark expanse of pupil, a full moon eclipsed.

Greg answered the door, still shirtless, wearing a sheepish expression. She opted to let the thin layer of smoke in the air and the smell of burnt food to go uncommented on. Instead she light pushed him back and closed the door behind them.

"Uh so in case you couldn't tell, I-" She stopped him short, pulling him down and muffling his words with her lips. She pressed her body hard against his, contouring herself to him.

"I need you. Right now." Cora breathed when she had retracted from him.

"Right now?" Greg said, his tone slightly giddy.

"Right now."

He lifted her, hands supporting underneath as she wrapped her legs around his midsection, breaking her mouth away from his to help him navigate to her bedroom through intermittent bumping against walls. He dropped her onto the bed, beginning to fiddle with the belt of his slacks as she shuffled into the centre of her mattress. Cora pulled off her sweater and flung it halfway across the room where it slouched mid-air, having caught on the handle of the door.

There seemed to be a silent agreement that Greg shouldn't be the bra wrangler given their track record, and as he joined her on the bed now only in his boxers, he watched her as she unhooked the clasp of her bra, shimmying the straps down her shoulders. A hand held the cups loosely to her chest, and he reached forward tentatively, softly pushing it away.

"Cool. Very cool," he breathed. Cora bit her lip, suddenly self-conscious. She hadn't let herself be intimate with another person since the incident and her body felt unchartered.

"Thanks." She replied, aware of the heat of her cheeks.

"You should, uh, lie back."

She followed his words as he manoeuvred on top of her, kissing her softly before trailing his lips down her jaw, her neck, lower still. He unbuttoned her jeans with one hand, hot breath tickling the surface of her stomach. Hands gripped the swell of her hips, her own beating heart filling her ears. He loosened her zipper, tugging them free of her legs. Thoughts flew through her mind, dissipating like smoke the moment she tried to discern their individual meaning. They kissed again as Greg ran his hand up her thigh, her body shivering when he ghosted his fingers against the thin material of her panties.

"This is all ok, isn't it?" He said, hovering close to her ear. Cora swallowed, nodding insistently.

"It's very ok." She assured him.

"Ok. Ok good, because I want you. Like, badly."

"Then have me."

It was like standing at the edge of a cliff face, the seconds of quiet at the beginning of a rollercoaster as it ticked to its highest place, a veritable amalgam of fear, excitement and elation. She was still against the mattress until he pushed inside of her, her back arching as pleasure flooded her system. With each stroke, his body would graze her clit and she would squirm beneath him, moaning against the nape of his neck. When she came, her mind was wiped clean, and for the first time since she had received the call that had started everything, she was untethered.

Freedom was cruel in its brevity.

After they had cleaned up, Greg revealed that he had somehow started a small fire on the stove top and they both agreed to never let him use her kitchen again. They ordered Vietnamese food and watched reruns of Love Island. Eventually Greg dozed off on the sofa, his arm laid across her body as he snored softly into her ear. Not waking him, she managed to slip from his grasp, pausing to survey him before turning off the TV and picking up her phone from the coffee table.

When she sat down on the edge of her bed, she checked her phone. Somehow she had known she would find his messages.

[TEXT: Kendall] yes or no

[TEXT: Kendall] i'm not going to keep pretending nothing happened

She closed her phone and curled up into a tight ball beneath the blankets, squeezing her eyes shut.

[ 𝑨𝑵: it took me like 8 hours to write the end scene SORRY IT'S BAD!! haven't written anything saucy in a bit so had some growing pains lmao. balancing important characterisation with smut that doesn't sound dry af is HARD. happy succession day for today/tomorrow <33 ]