Page 100 of Shroom for Improvement

Before he left me as well.

Following One’s Guts

Claude

I couldn’t figure out how to get Sonny to test the compass with me without telling him about said compass. In the end, I decided I didn’t care if he tried to nick it, and handed it over during dinner that evening.

“A Gut Compass.” Sonny’s eyes lit up with obvious awe. “I’ve pickpocketed a few of these before.” The tips of his ears went pink. “I mean, I always give them back to their owners. Contrary to what most folk believe, I try to return all the stolen items.”

“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise,” I said, despite the almost tangible knowledge he still had not returned any of my belongings.

“I know...” Sonny cleared his throat and looked down at the device. He flipped it over. “They’re usually much more elaborate than this one, though. This one seems kind of...prototypey, like maybe it’s the first one ever to have been made—holy fuck.” He stared at it some more, his already overlarge eyes so wide they threatened to fall out of their sockets. “No, it can’t be. That would be...” He shook his head. His mouth moved over the initialsG.M.V.

“So, you want to try it out tonight? I was thinking of setting it to adventurous, or inquisitive, or curious if it gives me any of those options,” I said.

“Yes!” His fork tumbled to the ground in his excitement. “I would love that. We should take torches in case the compass leads us outside of the house and we’re out so late it gets dark. And we should take hoodies as well, in case it gets cold.”

Since I didn’t own a hoodie, I’d slung my jacket over my arm and flicked through the emotions while I waited for Sonny to run back to his room to collect his, but... I didn’t know, something seemed wrong with the compass. Every emotion I clicked through was kinda the same as the last. I must have been on my twentieth click, but they were all coming up worryingly similar...

Romantic. Amorous. Sensual. Intimate. First-date vibes. Lovey-dovey.

I would simply die of embarrassment if Sonny saw any of those. I clicked it again.

Getting sucked off under a glittering waterfall—

I almost dropped the thing. What the hell?

Sonny approached, pulling his mustard bee-print hoodie over his head, and I shoved the compass in my pocket before he could look at the face and accuse me of... what? Deliberately selecting that option? I couldn’t deny that part of me—a gradually increasing part—wanted to follow the dial and see where it took us.

“Hey,” he said. “You ready for adventure?”

“Sure am.”

“So, what emotion-slash-instinct are we following?”

I grimaced. “I haven’t selected one yet. The compass... it keeps giving me stupid suggestions.”

“Let’s have a look?” Sonny held out a hand, palm up.

“No?” I said, like a question.

He laughed. “Aw, why not? Come on, let’s see.”

I sucked in a breath, placed the small brass instrument in his grip, and then screwed up my face. The shame coursing through my veins wouldn’t bear witness to his reaction.

“Oh!” Sonny said, laughing again.

“Let me change it.” I blindly reached out for the compass.

“Um... I mean, I’m happy to leave it on that one. If you are.”

I pried my eyes open to find him staring at me, bottom lip caught between his teeth, his free hand scratching the back of his neck. I checked the panel on the compass again, just to make sure the dial had not accidentally clicked to something else as it passed between our hands. It had not.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

“Yeah,” I squeaked. Cleared my throat. “Yeah, that’s... also very fine with me.”

Sonny snorted. “Perfect.” I did not miss the subtle adjustment he made to the front of his shorts. “Righty-ho, this way.”

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