Derek awoke to the aroma of maple syrup and breakfast grease. Still too battered to stand, he surveyed his surroundings through swollen, partially closed eyes. It was a student apartment, with the anonymous white walls and brown, stain-hiding carpet. A couple fine art prints blown up to poster size were taped onto the wall. He was laying on a beat old couch, with the stuffing held in by duck tape in a few spots. Someone had wrapped a sheet and comforter over him.
Light emanating from an unadorned archway across the room drew his attention. The source of the light, he suspected, was also the source of the wonderful smell. Still sore pretty much everywhere, he rotated unto his side and fixed his attention on the light, watching for something to happen.
He didn’t have long to wait. After a couple minutes, a silhouette manifested in the archway, carrying two plates heaping with everything that smelled so good. After a few steps, the outline of a person resolved itself into the mousy girl from the previous night, only better. And he realized he knew her. Her name was Kara Dorsey; he had English Composition with her Tuesdays and Thursdays. Until this moment, she had seemed as physically unremarkable to him as he had seemed to others; if he hadn’t found her essays so interesting, he doubted he’d even know her name.
Nobody would call her unremarkable looking now. Her dark hair, which had always been an untamable mess that threatened to swallow her head, now flowed smoothly down her back and catching the light with a shimmer. She’d tucked it behind her left ear, but let it flow over the right side of her face. Her skin, which had always been a pale yellowish, sickly hue, now glowed bronze in the warm light from the kitchen. Her back, usually bent over from the phantom weight of too many library books in hours past, was now straight as a rod. Her better posture also kept her head back and brought her chest forward, where pert breasts that Derek had never noticed before strained against a skin-tight white tank top. Alluringly, her black bra strap was only partially covered by the fabric of her top. The waistband of equally tight jeans caught on her rounded hips in exactly the right way. And while she still wouldn’t fit anybody’s definition of tall, she appeared to be a couple inches taller than she’d been the night before,
even taking into account the more upright stance. And while he’d witnessed her get attacked with every bit of the savagery that he’d endured, there wasn’t a mark of injury on her.
Even as Derek tried to wrap his mind around the sight before him, her warm brown eyes locked onto his open stare.
“Oh! My hero has awoke! Perfect timing!”
As she reached the couch, she bent over and put the two plates down on the battered coffee table. After dragging his eyes away from chest that had spread out before him, he noticed her biceps — biceps he’d never notice before — drop down as her arms straightened.
That done, she rounded the corner of the couch and peeled back the blankets. After surveying the extent of his cuts and bruises, she grabbed onto his forearm to pull him up. But before she’d gotten him into the upright position, she started changing again. The skin-tight clothes got even tighter. She seemed to lean backward, but her hand remained gripped to his arm. Her kneecaps emerged above the edge of the sofa cushion. Letting go, her back arched back and she let out an orgasmic purr. Suddenly the 5′ 2″ girl, who only a day before had been a 4′ 11″ girl, was a 5′ 5″ girl. And all of the areas which Derek had noticed improvements on the walk over were even more improved. The increasingly curvy, newly athletic young woman before him, reexamined him with suddenly appraising eyes.
“So you’re what fixed me!” she exclaimed. “It didn’t make much sense to me last night, but I figured, why question a good thing.”
The extraordinary revelation was, if anything, more shocking to Derek, who was still dumbstruck by Kara’s last iteration and crippled from his previous wounds.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he croaked out, the words catching in his dry throat.
She shook her head and laughed a high, melodious laugh. The movement caused her hair to dance lyrically around her face.
“You don’t need to lie around me. I’ll keep your secret.”
She flashed him a wink that made him swoon a little, in spite of things.
“No, listen,” he pleaded, his voice clearing a little. “There’s no secret. As far as I know, nothing like this has ever happened before.” Pause. “What makes you think it’s not you?”
She rolled her eyes in response. “Even in your black-and-blue state, you should have been able to see that I was different before. What’s the difference between my before and after pictures? Close quarters with you. Twice.”
Derek’s curiosity overcame his pain and confusion. “You mean I was around for the first changes?”
Her hand flicked onto her hip in impatience. “Try to keep up, boy. Before last night, I could barely handle my thirty-pound backpack. By the time you intervened, I was at least as bruised and battered as you are now. But after they took off, I huddled against you to consolidate body heat.”
A small peak rose among the blankets. She rolled her eyes again.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snorted, before plunging back into her story. “But anyway, as I pressed against you, the most incredibly thing happened. I felt the pain lift right out of me. I could feel myself healing. And then, once I was all better, I became better than better.”
She paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“How much do you weigh?” she demanded.
Derek couldn’t believe the sheer strangeness he was living. “Around 150-160, why?”
She beamed. “Because,” she replied triumphantly. “I carried you all the way back here last night. And I didn’t even have to catch my breath.”
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