#natandcefo

It didn’t fit with everything else that he had in the house, with any of the other décor, a blurry painting of a lady with a parasol. She paused a moment to look at it. His home and attire had such crisp clean lines, she found it hard to imagine that he liked art like this, though upon closer inspection, she realized that it wasn’t a painting at all.

It was a framed puzzle. She stopped to look for a bit longer. He did puzzles? And framed them?

“I’m still taking questions.” His voice startled her, sounding from behind her. She turned back and looked up at him, and she must have looked some sort of way because he laughed. “Go on, then. Ask me.” She pursed her lips, before doing so.

“You don’t seem like the type to like stuff like this. You’re so…” She struggled to find the words. Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Look at you, speaking as if you know me when we met a little over two hours ago.” He said, and Natalie shook her head.

“Anyone that spent ten minutes with you would say the same thing. Everything is clean and neat and this painting… isn’t.” She said. Tom nodded, looking at the puzzle as well.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. By all means, this painting baffles me.” He told her, crossing his arms. “This artist baffles me really. And still I buy puzzles of his artwork.” Natalie found that very surprising.

“Why?” she asked. Tom shrugged, still looking at the painting. Natalie even thought she caught him looking at himself in the glass of the frame, rather than the puzzle itself.

I've hit the halfway point! 25,312 is my count rn, hoping to get to tomorrow's goal before today ends, bc I know that I'll be busy on saturday.

I wrote yesterday and caught up, but i absolutely hate everything i wrote and my characters just feel so inconsistent throughout. I keep telling myself that I’ll just go back and fix it later but the perfectionist in me wants it to be better now. 

An totally unedited excerpt from Witches’Brew and Bitter Coffee.

Tom could come up with a million and one reasons as to why: He didn’t really want human police poking around his home and touching his things, asking questions, looking into his life and financials and all of that stuff, as it would actually be abhorrent, as well as incredibly inconvenient. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, didn’t want to bother the neighbors with the lights and sirens at this time of night, didn’t want to worry Rebecca. All of those reasons were ones he found perfectly acceptable, but they weren’t the reasons he thought of when she had suggested calling them. No, his thoughts at that moment directly correlated with his very first thought when he saw her, and that was incredibly worrying to him, because, as previously mentioned, the first thought he’d had when he saw her was not a rational, sensible thought. 

No, his first thought when he saw her was simply, “Ah. That’s her.” 

No, it didn’t make any sense, as he had no idea who she was, but the sense of the relief he felt in seeing her was so telling; His headache was completely gone, his entire body relaxed and calm. It was almost as if she had been missing from his life, and he hadn’t even known it, despite having searched for her his entire life.

This is a blog for my NaNoWriMo project, called Witches’ Brew and Bitter Coffee. The story itself follows a witch named Natalie that gets cursed to be connected to a shapeshifting demon named Cefo. As they go on adventures trying to break the curse, they fall in love. It’s a very wholesome story. Hopefully I’ll get to post excerpts, blurbs, and drawings that my roommate does of the two of them in the future.