saviour

Isobel nearly let out a chuckle at his inquiry. “Only every week,” she replied, taking a drag of her cigarette. “Sometimes twice.” She added, a stream of smoke spilling from her ruby lips. There was a bitterness under her tone. Barely hidden. “What’s your excuse for being here?” She looked to him with a curious narrowing of her eyes, fingers delicately flicking the ash away from her cigarette.

Having a hard time sitting in one place and pretty sure he had already seen the same Seinfeld episode earlier that day Stephen got off the couch and stretched. It felt good, but he needed more of a break. He had been wearing the same sweatshirt for a good two days now and everything felt overly stuffy. He walked out of the living room and out the front door. It was dark out and the air was cool. He sighed loudly before he grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled it up over his head and dropped it to the ground. His bare skin sucked in the cool night air. He put his arms over his head and stretched side to side. It was only then that he saw the lady out there with him.

“Good. You lookin’ to go in? The doors open.” She gave a tip with a nod in it’s direction. Either her own presence kept the woman from trespassing or maybe her opposite actually didn’t want to enter, not that Anya could blame her.

“Not quite. I’m waiting for someone to come out,” she sighed out that irritated breath she’d been holding in. It wasn’t even worth it to check her phone, she knew he was just keeping her waiting because he could. “Door’s always open, though, isn’t that right? So strange.”

Not that she cared about smoking inside, Anya decided to spend a few minutes out front. She had just dropped what was left of her cigarette onto the ground, crushing it under her black boot. It wasn’t odd to come across a wanderer, especially one who looked to already have knowledge of the property. So when she saw the woman with sharp features, it didn’t appear out of the ordinary. “Not unless you have one?” And even if her opposite did, it wouldn’t have mattered. Things rarely did these days.

“I don’t know him,” Trevor admitted, shaking his head. He didn’t know a lot of people in the house, though. He was usually too focused on himself to really pay attention, or care, about most of the residents. “Is he a frat boy, or something?” He asked, mostly just trying to keep the conversation going, and her attention on him.

“Lucky you,” Isobel sighed, moving to pull her phone out again. 9:06 PM. “I’m giving him 20 more minutes,” she muttered under her breath as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. Shifting to twist around, the brunette rested her weight against one of the porch beams, becoming just a bit more invested in the conversation. “He’s not,” she answered simply, not wanting to come off as a lunatic by jumping out with the explanation that he was a ghost.

Trevor leaned back, watching the female as she barely paid him any mind and checked her phone instead. This kind of bothered the ghost because if there was one thing he hated, it was being ignored. “You waiting for someone?” He asked, trying to capture her attention. “Or do you just like standing out here looking like you are?”

And she didn’t. Isobel barely passed a glance to the man as he made his way to the porch swing. Instead, she pulled out her phone from her pocket to check the time. 9:04 PM. Goddammit. Dominik knew she hated waiting. Stuffing her phone back in her pocket, the brunette crossed her arms and set her gaze out to the lawn.