“I heard chivalry was dead anyway, so there’s no need to fret.” Lottie offered him a halfhearted smile, shuffling her feet a bit as they approached the kitchen. The girl scrunched up her nose slightly. “I suppose a chat over coffee could help. Though I’m afraid my nightmares are mostly unrelated to being here.”

“You’re from the South though, right? Isn’t that your thing. Chivalry and all that.” Killian continued alongside her, “Well then we won’t talk about this place or the nightmares. Unless you want to, love. I’m a good listener, m’promise.”

Lottie sighed, quickly dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve as she turned to glance at him over her shoulder. “I suppose I don’t see a problem with that.” She replied softly, ducking her head down once more as they continued down the hallway. After a brief pause, she peered up at him through her damp lashes. “Sorry for being so rude to you before.”

Lottie pressed her lips together to keep herself from making one of her usual snappy remarks. But that didn’t last long, especially once he noted she was walking in the wrong direction. “Damn it.” She whined, stomping her foot lightly as she hid her face in her hands. Clearly, she was headed for a meltdown, but she tried to hold herself together long enough to turn and walk in the opposite direction. “Thank you for your help.” Lottie said quickly, her voice wavering. “I can find my way from here.”

“I’m sure you can, but also I feel like you need some company.” Killian followed in suit. “If I promise to keep the snarky replies to a minimum, may I join you?” He asked truthfully and genuinely. 

“I can still hear you, love.” Lottie mocked in a terrible, high-pitched imitation of his accent. “I am not lost and I certainly do not need to be followed around by some pompous Irishman who thinks I’m petty.” She grumbled, her stride slowing to a stop as she came to a fork in the hallway, hesitantly looking back and forth before turning left. 

“Oh? Because it seems like everyone but you moves out of the way for everybody.” Lottie snapped, her lip curled as her eyes fell on his cup of coffee. Being too proud to ask him where he got it from, she decided to just turn and walk in the direction from which he came, her lower lip poking out in a pathetic little pout. “Stupid jerk with his stupid accent and stupid lack of manners.”

“You know.” Killian turned around with a smirk, “I can still hear you, love. Talking petty doesn’t look good on anyone if it’s heard by the other.” He walked back over to her. “Where are you heading, love? You look lost.”

“Okay, this … this is definitely not the way to the kitchen.” Lottie grumbled, frustrated, as she still struggled to navigate her way through the building. “All I wanted was a cup of – hey!” She was cut off mid-sentence when someone bumped into her, nearly knocking her back into the wall. “Would you watch where you’re goin’?!”

“The hallway is only so big, love. You can’t expect everyone to move out of the way for ya.” He tipped his coffee to the girl and headed past her.

Lottie directed whatever disdain she’d felt toward the receptionist at the tall, dark, and Irish narcissist that sauntered up to her. Her lip curled, she scoffed. “I’m sorry, could I get a less conversational bellhop to carry my bags to my temporary room? I like my help like I like my cars – silent.” 

“Y’all have got to be kidding me.” Lottie spoke in her elegant Southern drawl, her voice smooth but sharp as she looked from the receptionist to the building she would now refer to as … home. “This simply will not do. Do you know who I am?” The blonde turned back to glare at the receptionist, only to discover he had abandoned her in the middle of the main hallway. “Why, I never…”

“Ouch. Shot to the ego.” Seph put a hand over her heart. “Coincidentally, I never learned to ride a bike, so I wouldn’t know. I suppose I’m just all sorts of strange.” As soon as they reached the kitchen, Seph assumed her usual position on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs a bit as she watched him rifle through the fridge. “Of course I like chicken alfredo. I’m strange, but not that strange.”

“At least you’re willing to admit it.” Seph chuckled, shaking her head. “I used to cook all the time, too. I didn’t really like it much as I got older, though I was still pretty good at it. Then I just stopped and lost whatever skill I had.” She shrugged, tugging the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and nodding at his suggestion. “Pasta is always a good idea.”

Seph let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, if you’re that desperate for my attention, I suppose I can oblige.” She smirked, nudging him with her elbow. “If you want food, it’s best you leave me out of the cooking process. That is, unless you’re hungry for slightly burnt macaroni and cheese that comes from a box.”

“Responsibility? What am I, your babysitter now?” Seph chuckled, pulling the closet door open and stepping into the hall. “Alright, if you’re insistent upon following me around all evening, what do you propose we do? Because, while I hate to ruin the illusion that I’ve always got something up my sleeve, I had no mischief on my schedule tonight.” 

“Am I? Perhaps it’s just the chemical smell getting to me.” Seph arched a brow, reflecting his smirk with one of her own. “It sounds like the nurses are gone. Should I leave you alone with the Pine-Sol?”

Seph rolled her eyes, lifting her finger from her lips to poke him in the chest. “If I wanted to get you alone, I already would have.” In spite of what she said, she didn’t move away when he drew closer. Instead, she flashed him a challenging look. “Just until they’re gone. That is, unless you want to hang out in a damp closet that reeks of Pine-Sol all night.”