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I hope you liked this chapter ! Next one will take a LONG time to come, since I really must be careful on what's going to be said (or not said 👀) and because of IRL stuff !

See you for the next one, which will probably be one of the most complicated for me to do :')

She says it to the picture they took together, Marcus had it printed like he said he would. He held the picture between two fingers when he handed it to her, but to her, it’s the size of a poster. In the picture, she’s smiling, perched on the shoulder of an amused Zeke, Marcus is beaming in the foreground. She can’t help but smile every time she sees it. But she can’t stay here. She doesn’t belong here. So she looks squarely at the humans in their still, smiling faces, and she tells them goodbye. She tries. She practices it until her voice doesn’t shake when she says the words, then she practices it some more. 

It’s short and sweet, that’s all she can manage. All she has to do is squeeze her eyes shut and say a few words, then she can leave.

She has plenty of opportunities to do it. Before a movie starts. Before they play a boardgame. There are moments, lulls in conversation, where she knows the two humans can tell she wants to say something. They wait for her to say it, looking at her expectantly, curiously… and she changes the subject every time.

She can’t do it.

It’s not that she thinks they would keep her here, or even that they might try to talk her out of it. It's just that every time she goes to say the words out loud, she’s already talking herself out of leaving in the first place. 

So, she doesn’t say anything. She can’t even bring herself to leave a note. She can't capture what she wants to say with words.

After she's packed up everything she wants to take back with her, she carries it down off her bookshelf and into the passageway in the walls. It takes several trips. The office is actually a great room to be set up in, there is an entrance to the walls right behind Zeke’s desk. From there, it’s not a very long trek to her room.

She takes one final look at the human's apartment. Pausing here to let it sink in.

She’s really doing this. 

She lingers at the entrance, knowing that leaving is going to end this season of her life. She wants to save this. Not this room, not this moment specifically, but the feeling of... Here. Everything she experienced the past month. She wishes she could bottle it. Distill it. So that that she could drink these feelings from her memories and experience them again and again. The warmth of having company, another being to talk to, to laugh with. The curiosities of the humans, the impossible scale of them colliding with their impossible kindness.

She was sure she needed to leave, but now that she's here, she hesitates. It won't ever be the same again. She can feel it. Even if she decides to come back it's not going to be exactly the same. Knowing this cautions her. Leaving is voluntary. She's choosing this. Is she sure that's what she wants? She looks at the pile of things tucked inside the wall, ready to be carted up to her room in slow burdened trips. It isn't too late.

She shakes her head. Change isn't a bad thing. Even if it's different, it could be better. Meeting the lads changed her life. That turned out to be good. This could turn out good too.

“Okay,” she says to the empty room, speaking to interrupt her thoughts before she can spiral. “Thank you for everything… I’m going home now... bye.” 

There. She said it.

She shifts the final bundle in her arms and turns away from the apartment one last time. The door closes behind her and she takes a beat to breathe in the finality of it.

Traversing the walls feels like slipping into a past life. Zeke had been right, she ended up taking about a month to get better. Then a little longer, because she didn’t want to go. She maneuvers up the crooked stairs, back to her room. This is where she belongs. She’s home now. 

She just doesn’t remember it feeling so lonely.

She drops the last of her things in the pile by her bed. She can sort through it later. She makes her way over to her compact mirror, sitting down on the cushion she’s fashioned in front of it. She stares at her reflection. 

“You are a strong, smart, capable borrower,” she says to herself, “You can do this,” her voice feels too loud for her dimly lit room. She has a string of fairy lights she runs on some batteries. It gives the room a low warm glow. She sighs, turning away from her reflection and she begins to unpack. She took the picture of them. She couldn’t leave it behind. She hangs it up on her wall with a piece of tape.

She can always go back she tells herself. On her terms. That’s what it’s really about after all. She quite literally fell into the hands of those humans, she didn’t get a choice. She wants to make sure that if she’s going to uproot her life, it’s going to be because she decided to do it. Not because they fed her.

Speaking of that… she checks her supplies. A few perishables are overly ready to be thrown away, but aside from that she still has some rice, and some means to make some bread. She adds what she had been saving to her pantry. She didn’t keep much, but she had started stashing little things in her room when she knew she would be leaving soon. She’s really lacking in the seasoning department. It wasn’t a concern to her before, bland food keeps you alive just the same, and it’s easier to manage. But now she knows how fun food can be. Pancakes and ice cream and- she needs to stop thinking about it before she makes herself hungry. She’s just going to have to get used to the real world again. Meager rations that leave you barely satisfied, practical storage and emergency supply. That's her reality. There are pros and cons to this situation. She isn't going to make a list about it. The thought of it being so difficult is exactly why she needed to do this. She never thought it was difficult before it was just the way things were.

She sits on the edge of her bed, pulling the blanket Zeke made for her around her shoulders. She looks down at the fabric, and realizes suddenly that her eyes are misty. She needed to do this. She asserts stubbornly. She's had the argument with herself a hundred times. Despite the logic behind it, despite knowing she's right, she curls herself into a ball and cries. 

The next morning, she can hear their voices, muffled through the wall, calling her name. They're searching for her. She gets dressed, grabs her borrowers pack and heads off in the opposite direction. No particular plan in place, she'll make one up on the way. She just doesn't want to be here for this.

The days are long and boring without anyone to talk to. But there’s always something to do. She just tries to keep herself busy. She makes sure all of her equipment is good to go. She restocks her supplies pretty handily, no disasters there. She updates her notes on the humans in their various apartments and their schedules.

She doesn’t go back into Marcus and Zeke’s apartment at all. It’s too risky, they’d know what to look for. Not that getting found by them isn't really a problem, she knows they’re safe, but that’s not the point. The point is she’s a borrower, and she’s doing borrower things. She can’t stop in the middle of that to have a friendly conversation and share a cup of tea. Tea. She misses that too. 

“Pros and Cons." She reminds herself, "It’s your own fault for getting comfortable enough to miss things,” she grumbles quietly. 

Days pass. Nights pass. Her sleep schedule shifts back to allow her more activity in the night time. Storms come and go and she braves it all alone. As it should be. It's lonely, but it comes with a sense of accomplishment.

“Isabell?” 

She lifts her head at the sound of her name, muffled through the wall. She sits up straighter, staring at her wall as if she could see right through it. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me…” It’s Marcus. She gets up, pressing her ear to the wall to hear him better. “I really miss you, and... and I hope you’re safe. And… This is dumb.” 

Then, silence. She stares at the wall, tears welling up in her eyes again. Fiercely, she swipes the palms of her hands over her eyes.

"Stop. Crying." She grits out, scolding herself. She turns her attention elsewhere, funneling this energy into something productive. Sometimes she catches herself waiting, pretending she's staying up to double, triple checking her equipment, not willing to admit to herself that she's waiting to hear his voice.

Marcus doesn’t do it again. Zeke doesn’t try to talk to her through the walls at all, but she can hear his sewing machine pretty frequently. It never bothered her before, but now she knows the human. She can picture his focused expression as he runs fabric through his machine, his surprisingly nimble fingers crafting tiny details. He’s right there, and yet they’re worlds apart. 

How it should be. Pros and cons.

She keeps telling herself that, but she's finding many more ''cons' and very few 'pros.' She spends hours when she should be sleeping just staring at the lone glow-in-the-dark star on her ceiling and listening to the sewing machine with a thick ache in her chest.

She keeps an arbitrary calendar to help her keep track of days of the week and the human's schedules. There are anomalies, but as a rule, weekends are more dangerous and weekdays are safer to be out and about. It’s good to keep track of that. By her count, It’s been eight weeks since she left. A respectable amount of time. Long enough for her to get back into a routine. Long enough to prove to herself that she can survive. Long enough to prove that she's miserable. It's been long enough that it won't feel like giving up if she goes to see her lads again.

She hesitates at the threshold. Zeke is sewing, she can hear the machine. Her hand hovers in front of her doorway. An itch in the back of her mind cautions her, something telling her that this is a bad idea. She shrugs it off as an old instinct, revealing yourself to a human is always a bad idea. It’s basically the number one bad idea you can have. But this isn’t just any human, it’s Zeke. She places a hand on the door, ready to push it open and step through. 

She can’t do it.

She turns and quickly gets herself back to her room. 

She visits the doorway often, and every time she pulls away. It’s another week or so before she musters the courage to actually enter the apartment again. 

Climbing his desk feels electric. She reaches the top, and it's so familiar. Something about it feels more like coming home than entering the walls ever did. She dusts off her hands and looks up. There's Zeke, focused on his work. He’s wearing headphones. His music is loud enough that she can hear the pulse of the rhythm from the other side of the desk.

She waves to get his attention, he doesn’t notice her. He barely blinks, his machine keeps plugging along, his head bobs along to whatever he's listening to. She moves closer, waving again and his eyes flick over to her. He stops sewing and quickly looks her up and down. She suddenly remembers how absolute his gaze can feel. 

He takes off his headphones, wearing them around his neck instead. His music filters through more clearly now, heavy percussion, strong guitar, it sounds aggressive. He hits a button on his phone, and it goes silent. 

He looks back at her again. Time stretches as they share this wordless eye contact.

“Do you need something?” He breaks the silence. There is no warmth in his tone. Her mouth goes dry.

That’s it?

She doesn’t know what she expected. Not this. Before she left he would always move to be near her, bridging the distance between them. Now, he just sits there. His hands hold the fabric from his latest project and he makes no move to change that. His gaze is colder and heavier than she remembered it being. 

She realizes he’s waiting for an answer. Suddenly, she doesn’t trust her voice. She just shakes her head. His eyes linger on her for a moment longer. Neither of them say anything. She shifts her weight uncomfortably between her feet, pulling her eyes away from his. 

“Alright,” he says a beat later and goes to put his headphones back on, but pauses. She looks up at him, expecting something more. Something like… well, like the Zeke she knew. “Can you not look at me like that?” He asks suddenly. She blinks in surprise, straightening. “I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong.” He fidgets with the headphones in his hands. “I’m just existing,” he looks like he's going to say more but then he shakes his head, “Listen. If you need something, ask. Otherwise, I’m staying out of your way.” With that, the headphones go back on, and the pulse of his music resumes. He returns to his sewing without sparing her another glance. 

She does not know what to do with that. She stands there for a moment longer, feet feeling anchored to their spot on the desk. Numbly, she forces herself to turn and head toward the edge of the desk. Taking up her rope in her hands she looks back at Zeke again. It feels like she isn't there at all. She's certain she has never felt this small before.

The climb back down feels like it takes forever. She gathers her rope, focusing on her hands as she completes the task. Her thoughts are static, only coming together to form ‘what just happened’ before dissolving back into white noise. 

Now what? 

She looks across the room to the door that leads to the hallway. Then up to her bookshelf. She expects it's going to be converted back to a shelf since she isn't using it anymore… but the curtain is still there. They left it alone? Curious, she scales the shelf and goes inside the makeshift room. Everything is the same. She doesn't know how to feel about that. She sits on the edge of the bed to take a moment and collect her thoughts.

Zeke seemingly wants nothing to do with her, but he didn't take back his bookshelf. Why not? Shouldn't he be happy to be rid of her entirely? It doesn't make any sense. 

“Hey, Z,” Marcus's voice pulls her from her thoughts. She holds her breath. “Yo,” he tries a second time to get Zeke’s attention, the sewing machine goes still. “I was wondering if you wanted to-” he stops suddenly, “what happened?”

“Nothing. I'm busy. What do you want?” 

“Well, now I want to know what happened.”

There's a tense pause, like neither of them want to be the one to give in. It's a short competition of who is the most stubborn.

“I saw Isabell.” Zeke finally answers, his tone would suggest that he's changing the subject. If it hadn't taken him so long to say it, it might have been believable.

“Oh shit? Is she still-” A pause. “Isabell, are you back?” A couple footsteps is all the warning she gets before his massive fingers pull back the curtain separating her bookshelf from the rest of the office. She doesn't have time to wonder if Zeke saw where she was and silently told Marcus, or if Marcus was just checking for the sake of checking.

Marcus is there, right in front of her. He jumps at the eye contact just as much as she does. He fumbles at the shock, clumsily knocking into the shelf and sending a thump through her that's almost enough to bounce her off the bed. Both of them yelp in surprise. 

“It's you! You're actually- Come here! Come here! Come here!” He holds his hands towards her. He barely lets her stand before he's closed the distance himself, pulling her off her feet and pressing her against his chest.

Zeke turns away from them, adjusting his headphones and turning back to his work. His machine starts plugging along once more in the background. She barely notices, as Marcus’s overwhelming presence demands more attention from her. 

“I'm so glad you're okay!” He says. She gets to feel the familiar sensation of his voice rumbling through her from her place against his chest. “I missed you.” He stops suddenly, sharply pulling her away. Using his free hand he jabs an index finger towards her. “Hey.” His voice is suddenly stern. Her eyes widen and her breath hitches. “You scared me. Like for real you- Oh, hey,” just as quickly, he softens, noticing her expression and the tears that were way too willing to fall. “I'm doing too much aren't I? I'm sorry.” 

He moves to set her down, give her space. 

“Wait!” She's had enough space. She scrambles to cling to him the best she can, grabbing tightly to his index finger. “I- I missed you too,” the confession rings in her ears. She waits for judgment but he doesn't hesitate to pull her back into a massive hug. 

“It's so good to see you. What are you doing? I was gonna ask Zeke if he wanted to go on campus for lunch, but,” he tilts his head to his roommate, who might as well be in another world with how engrossed he is with the fabric running through his machine. “Are you hungry? Do you need anything?” 

“No, no I'm good. I was- I was gonna head out pretty soon, just wanted to … say hi,” talking already feels strange. It was hard enough slipping back into a routine of silence. Going back again to idle conversation isn't proving to be any more natural for her. 

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I get it… are you sure you don't need anything? Water? Food? Matches? Craft stuff? Uh, Glue? Seriously, anything.” 

She laughs, holding out her hands like she could slow the torrent of thought coming from him, “I'm fine. Really”

“Look, you're leaving with something. I'm not going to let you go empty handed.”

“I- yeah alright. Water is always helpful."

“Yeah. No problem, come on.” 

He throws a glance over to Zeke who is handily ignoring both of them now.

"Don't mind him. He's been," he raises his voice slightly, as if he could win over the blaring music in Zeke's ears, "in a mood lately." Marcus shakes his head and takes her out to the kitchen.

He tries to give her almost everything he looks at in their cabinets, and manages to send her on her way with a full bundle in her arms. Spices, tea, sugar, a full canteen. Mostly things that are hard to get and easy to go without. Then after several attempts to get her to stay 'just a little while' he drops her off by the wall. There's another entrance in the living room, behind the TV. He kneels in front of her, just looking at her.

"Thank you. Um, I can manage it from here." It feels wrong to let a human know exactly where one of the entrances are. He seems to realize that.

"Oh. Secret entrance to a secret world. Right. I got you." Marcus moves to stand, then pauses, "You'll come back again soon right?" He asks, "soon?" He looks at her so expectantly. She just nods. He grins broadly, "Alright. Well, I'll see you later then." He stands, and walks off.

She slowly picks her way back to her room, encumbered by the abundant bounty she's been given. 

“She’s back,” she hears Marcus through the office wall, and her steps slow to listen. “Don't look too happy about it.” 

“No. I am.” Zeke responds. Then he adds, quietly , she has to strain to hear, "I'm just... Mad."

"She came back."

"I know. Still."

"What did you say to her?"

"Very little. I didn't want to-"

His voice fades off, they probably moved to a different room. 

Mad? 

She continues walking back to her room, replaying her conversation with Zeke. Or rather… her lack of conversation with Zeke.

What is his deal? 

Back in her room her eyes find the picture of them as she sets down her bundle and begins sorting through everything Marcus sent with her. In the picture, Zeke’s expression is more reserved than Marcus’s full faced grin, but he looks happy. 

She thinks back over their month of interactions. He was stoic but never really standoffish. He was aloof but never… so distant. This was different. It’s not that he started being mean. It's more like… he stopped being nice. So, that was Zeke, angry. She recalls Marcus’s words. ‘He's been in a mood.’

Probably a bunch of human stuff going on. She doesn't see what that would do with her.

'you scared me.' Marcus had said. She remembers his stern expression, the sudden edge in his voice.

Did she scare Zeke too? Is that what he’s mad about? Why wouldn't he just say that? She didn't want to leave, but she knew she had to… why wouldn't she just say that? 

She huffs. Leaving the rest of her new supplies out on her counter, she just goes and lays across the rug on her floor. Few problems can't be solved with some floor time. 

The next few days were a blur after my little incident. Quite literally. Nothing had seemed to change except for the human not hiding his presence. The way he subtly moves things around so I could find them more easily. The soft taps on the table to tell me where said things were.

A human was helping me. The human. A part of me wanted to know his name. Another part of me thought that there was no point in knowing. He was helping me survive, and I stayed out of his way in the meantime. Why change what’s been working for years? Or at least that’s how long he said he’s been helping me. So much for not playing right into my role of a blind person.. 

My head still couldn’t wrap around the fact he saw me. Held me. Could do whatever he wanted with me. And was still kind enough to let me go. Even more so, allowed me to stay living here like he wasn’t at all bothered by the tiny guest that’s been living in his walls. I nearly laughed at the thought.

He must’ve been messing with me, right?

The house was quiet besides the TV on in the living room telling me exactly where the human was. I waited inside the kitchen outlet to make sure that I was right. It felt like it was going to be another easy day of doing nothing. Seemed easy enough. And boring. Though, after the incident, it’d be best if I didn’t do anything for a while. 

I snuck out of the outlet once I reassured myself several times that it was okay and cautiously walked onto the counter. It was strange that he knew about me, or that I knew he knew about me. He knew that I would come out here every day to grab something to eat, and every day he’d leave something out for me. It was also strange to be walking on the counter without having such a big fear of being caught. 

My hands were reaching out, but there was nothing for it to grab onto. I could smell something sweet, but it didn’t really seem like it was anywhere close by.  I felt my heart skip a beat, gripping the strap of my bag nervously. Maybe there was something else around here? Was this some kind of test the human decided to put me up against? No, after our little encounter, he didn’t really seem like the type. 

I sighed and started walking around, hesitating before every step just to make sure I wouldn’t fall. Would it even help if I stepped off the edge? A knot formed in my stomach just thinking about it. I really wanted my needle back, but asking for one seemed terrifying. Plus, it would be better for me if I just learned how to live without one. Though that would be hard when I was just a few inches tall and literally everything was dangerous. 

There wasn’t anything around which made me a little worried, but it wasn’t like I was too hungry anyway. I turned my heels in the direction that felt like the outlet, feeling a little defeated. Even more so when I clumsily ran into something. I reached a hand out, grumbling under my breath. Something made out of cardboard. Something that wasn’t usually there. I scoffed and trailed my hand across the cardboard so that I wouldn’t run into it again.

Suddenly, I heard something open. The fridge? My heart jumped. My mind was racing. My head turned towards the sound instinctively, counting down the seconds I had left to make a decision. What should I do? And I did the only thing I knew how to do. Hide. I ran into the cardboard again in a panic and staggered backwards for a few seconds, hurrying to hide behind the box. My chest heaved up and down as I pressed my back against the cardboard, hoping that I was hidden well enough. 

Of course he knew about me, but it didn’t change the fact that he was human and could change his mind anytime he wanted to. 

I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my breathing so he couldn’t hear me either. I was still scared of him. No matter how many times he’s possibly saved me. No matter how many times he’s helped me survive. Some part of me felt bad for feeling this way. Another kept telling me it was okay. 

I heard the human grab another thing. My heart was beating rapidly. I slid my back against the cardboard and held my hands against my mouth. So many sounds all at once. It was overwhelming. It made my head spin. 

Silence filled the room. The loud noises all came to a stop. The sound of my own heartbeat was the only thing that rang through my ears. What is he doing? Did he see me? No, that’s impossible. I ran before-

I heard the human hold back a laugh, followed by something being placed almost right beside me. I flinched, holding my hands out to stop whatever was coming back to me. So he knew I was here and was just ignoring me. Great. It wasn’t such a big deal if it’s what he’s been doing for years, but it’s the concept of not knowing that was driving me insane. 

“You know you don’t have to try and hide anymore, right?” Try? Was I not hidden? It felt like I was. I fidgeted, smelling something sweet in whatever he placed in front of me. My body was trembling so much that I was sure my insides were all blended together. Even as tempting as the food was, my appetite was lost. 

Well, he was right about one thing at least. I didn’t have to hide from him. As much as my body was screaming to run off the edge of the counter because that would be a much more merciful death than the one he’d give me, I just couldn’t listen. Something told me that it would be different than the horror stories my parents would tell me to make sure I stayed away from humans. Or maybe this was exactly how they went. There was only one way to find out. 

Silence filled the room. I wasn’t about to break one of the most important rules a borrower had to follow. Don’t speak. Sure, I may have talked to him when he saved me, but that was just so he would let me go, so it didn’t count! Then again, the most important rule was not getting caught, and I managed to break that pretty well. 

Maybe they were right about me being a screw-up. 

I shoved the thought aside, ignoring how the pit in my stomach somehow kept growing the longer the silence kept stretching between us. It was terrifying to know that he was maybe just a few feet, or inches, away from me. He could reach out and grab me at any time he wanted. Was there a chance of getting out of this? 

“Mmm, you get an A for effort.” I turned my head towards his voice so fast it felt like it was throbbing from motion sickness. He was close. So dangerously close. Without even telling it, my body already started crawling backwards along the cardboard wall. 

Yeah, like that’s going to do anything. 

For a split second, it felt like he was going to reach out and grab me. My body dreaded it. Time seemed to slow as I carefully listened to every fabric rustle, just waiting to feel something warm and squishy wrap around me. But there was nothing. No feeling of impending doom. Nothing wrapping around, threatening to make my ribs pop right out of my skin. It didn’t even feel like his shadow was looming above anymore. What was he playing here? 

“Well, if you’re hungry, food’s in front of you.” He didn’t sound angry or irritated. If anything, he actually sounded defeated. Why was that? As far as I was concerned, he was a happy person with tons of friends he invited over sometimes and was much too loud for my ears. I grumbled at the thought, not hearing the human move from his spot. Then again, he could be quiet when he wanted to, so leaving was a small possibility. I mean, he secretly helped me for so long without me hearing about it. 

Rather than run away like any borrower with common sense would do, I decided it wouldn’t be so bad if I just accepted the food he was offering, even if there was a chance he was still somewhere around here.

I cautiously reached over the plastic bowl he had the food in and tore a piece off of the weirdly soft thing I held in my hands. Bread? It didn’t smell this sweet. Was it poison? I shook that idea out of my head and took a small bite. If I knew what “my eyes lit up” looked like, I’m pretty sure this would be it. What was it? Why did it taste so good? Should I thank him? I wasn’t sure if he was still there or not. It was eerily quiet. 

“Wait!” I yelled to make sure he heard me from wherever he was. This wasn’t a decision I’d immediately regret, right? The anxiety slowly ate away at my knotted stomach. I clutched whatever sweet treat he gave me in my hands. Why was I calling him over? Was I finally going crazy? Maybe. It sure felt like it. One second I’m being saved by a human, and the next I’m making conversation. Who would’ve thought? 

The next second there weren’t even any footsteps near me. Meaning he was just silently watching me 

What a creep. 

“What’s up?” I twisted my head from the direction his voice was coming from. My heart started racing, threatening to beat right out of my chest. I can do this, right? It’s just talking to a terrifying human who was probably looming, just waiting for me to make a mistake. 

“Thanks.” The words were harder to say than he realized.

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t walk away. I took a shaky breath and finished up whatever he left out for me today. Was leaving an option now? He still didn't walk away. Would he hold me back? 

Awkward silence filled the room. I had drowned out the TV a long time ago, only focusing on even the slightest rustle of fabric. But I could still hear him breathing. The silent tapping on the counter, but it was oddly far away. Did he move away? 

With an insane amount of stupidity and convincing, I forced my voice to start working. 

“Why are you watching me?” Rather than spitting it at him, my voice came out more terrified than judgemental. I mentally slapped myself, crawling a little bit forwards to try and figure out where exactly he was. 

“Just making sure you don’t fall.” And instead of fear or anything of the sort a normal borrower would feel in this situation, I couldn’t bite my tongue back. 

“If you hadn’t scared me, I wouldn’t have fallen off in the first place.” I crossed my arms and stood up. While I might have defended myself, I don’t think this was a good impression to leave with him. He was probably frustrated and wanted nothing more than to throw me in a jar and lock me in a cabinet so I couldn’t escape. Then again, it’s not like I’d be able to escape if he did anything to me. 

My stomach dropped when he took a step forward. The realization of my words had finally hit. Was he actually annoyed with me? I shuddered and pressed my back up against whatever cardboard wall was behind me. 

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be in my room, was I? Maybe leave a sign next time?” He was laughing. Laughing? What did he expect me to write? It’s not I can see!

The awkward silence stretched on between us. He continued to tap lightly on the counter, either to tell me that he was still there or he was doing it out of habit. I was willing to bet it was a mix of the two. 

“You never told me your name.” I could hear the smile on his face start to form. My name? He wanted to know my name? Was there any point in it? It’s not like we’d be around each other enough to use them. 

“Why?” 

“It’d be nice to know the name of the person I’ve been helping out.” Helping. I scoffed. I didn’t need his help. Whatever he thought was “help,” wasn’t. Just because he left food for me didn’t mean anything. I could’ve easily done that myself if he hadn’t helped. I would learn because I needed to. Admittedly enough, it was nice of him to leave food out. Not that he was helping since I still went out to find where he put it every day. 

“I don’t need your help.” And once again, my voice sounded scared rather than angry. Because of course it did. 

“Okay, okay,” I could hear him roll his eyes, “My name’s Colton if you cared to know.” 

Actually, I did. Would I let him know that? Absolutely not. And even if I was skeptical, it was only the right thing to give him mine.

“Erik.” My own name felt weird coming from my voice. 

“Nice to finally meet you then.” The tapping along the counter stopped. Well, now that we had an actual introduction, it’d be nice to get back home and lie down in bed. Until I found something to do that didn’t require the use of my eyes. Which was nearly nothing. Right. 

Now I just had to ask how to get back to the outlet because whatever cardboard wall was in front of me was really throwing me off. How did I even end up here? 

“Could you tell me where the outlet is?” My voice was quieter, but at least it didn’t come out so alarmed. Talking with a human wasn’t actually that bad. 

“Sure. Turn around and walk straight. I'll let you know when to stop.” Was it weird to say Colton sounded sad?

I did as asked, trailing my hand along the cardboard to help me out a little and kept walking when the wall was finally over.

“Stop. Turn a little to your left and just keep walking straight. It’s in front of you.” I nodded my head and walked forward. At some point along the way, I nearly tripped over something and ignored the way he hid his laugh before I finally ran into the outlet. Thanks for the warning. I lifted the broken outlet to the side and started to climb in, one leg already draped over the edge before he stopped me. 

“Hey uh, I know you’ll probably say no, but did you want to watch a movie or something? If you’re not busy.” I couldn’t tell if I was laughing because of the question or out of shock for the question. Maybe a bit of both. 

“I can’t watch anything.” If I were to guess, he mentally slapped himself. What was I thinking? He’s a human! It’d be one thing to talk to him, but another to willingly “hang out.” 

The thought of not being alone for once sounded nice though. Could we be friends? At least then talking would be a little easier. Maybe it wouldn’t be as scary going around the house? Could it actually be possible for me to get used to any of this? 

Of course not. 

“You know what I mean,” He playfully argued and started tapping on the counter again, “Then what do you usually do?” I paused, biting the side of my cheek. Why was I so nervous? It was a simple question. Though the answer wasn’t something I had realized was a bad one. 

What have I been doing with my life? 

“Sleep.” The silence between us sounded like he was shocked. What else was there for me to do anyway besides occasionally eavesdrop on conversations? I hadn’t really thought about it before. A regular borrower would pass the time sewing up new clothes or even have hobbies like drawing. None of which I could do. Maybe if I still had my vision, none of this would’ve happened. This impairment has ruined me. 

“That’s it? Nothing else?” His voice sounded closer, and was that a hint of sadness laced in it? That’s not what I was focused on though. Was he that stupid or just oblivious to my situation? 

“I’m blind. There’s nothing much I can do,” I crossed my arms, sighing, “I… listen to the TV sometimes.” Any chance I had, I’d hurry through the walls to get closer to the living room and listen to what the people were saying and doing. It was hard to picture because of the lack of subtext, but honestly, as my only form of entertainment, I’d take what I could get. It beats sleeping the boredom off. 

Colton didn’t reply right away which automatically made me assume that he was freaked out that I was the one stalking him. I could easily argue that he’s been doing the same with me except he could actually watch how idiotic I must’ve looked. 

“If you want, you can leave then. I’ll keep the TV on.” And I had no idea why guilt built up in the pit of my stomach. It was alright to leave. He even said so. So why did it seem wrong for me to? I appreciate what he was doing, and I probably will listen to whatever he puts on, but why? Why accommodate just for me? It still made no sense in my head. 

And it felt like I had an obligation to repay him. 

I groaned to myself, struggling to pull my leg over the outlet wall and walk outwards. This was such a dumb decision.

“Okay. But on the floor. Preferably by something I can hide under in case you try something.” I pointed up at him. I could feel my heart beating fast. It felt almost sickening to think about all the things he could do, but somehow it also felt like he’d never do any of them. 

“Deal. And I don’t plan on trying anything on you. If it makes you feel better.” I could practically hear the smirk on his face. He was much too happy about this.

“Hands in front of you.” All of a sudden, my ears started ringing. My heart was beating much faster than before. Right. He’d have to carry me there. Great. 

Despite my best efforts and years of instincts telling me to run away at even the slightest noise he made, I still managed to ignore every single one of them. One step forward. Another and another. My hand slowly started reaching out, and when my fingers finally brushed against skin, a shiver ran down my spine. And I had to ignore the feeling because the guilt would end up eating me in the end.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

— — — — — —

I guess this can also count as day 30?

Sorry this isn't as good as the other one but hey this wasn't what I wanted to write with these two </3 I’ll rush to finish the other prompts as well as some others that I’ve been asked to write. Thank you for your patience ❤️