@blythewonder

Four hours and multiple hundred dollars later, Anita had a kitchen that looked like a human lived in it. Or at least she hoped she did. The only real reference point she had to work off of were TV shows. Pots and pans, plates, silverware, bowls, cups, mugs, spices, basic “necessities”. She realized there was the possibility that the stuff she had just bought might look too new. So she collected some dust from around the house to put on them, scratched up some of the plates and pans, then decided that would be sufficient enough.

The last time Anita had someone over her house in a non-one-night-stand capacity was… well never actually. She didn't really have people that she would consider friends nor were there any people she suspected would call her their friend. It wasn't that she was anti-social. She just tried not to let people get close to her. She knew that if they got to know who she really was, they would be terrified. Which was really stupid on their part. She didn't harm humans anymore, which really just made her that much more impressive of a specimen. I mean, Lamia’s were already superior species. She was really just proving that by the amount of restraint she showed.

Bridget was coming over to her house in the middle of nowhere without ever having met Anita before. And sure, their conversation was public so if she went missing people would question the new online stranger she had met. But if Anita really wanted to, she could have a human meal for herself. She wouldn’t of course, and for more reasons than just the fear of getting caught.

With the time Bridget was supposed to show up inching closer, Anita became more and more unsure of this whole situation. At one point she even pulled out her phone and typed out a message to Bridget saying “Hey, hate to do this on such short notice, but I just got called down to the station for work. Can’t really postpone murder investigations. Sorry, we’ll have to reschedule!” But she never sent it. Usually, Anita was so cool, calm, and collected. But this was something she had never done before, and she was suddenly realizing how dangerous the situation might be. If she asked about her family. Or why she left California. Everything out of her mouth would have to be a lie, and then from that point on whenever she talked to Bridget she would be in constant fear of getting caught in those lies. Keeping up with an ongoing string of lies is stressful, Anita had tried it before and it never really went well.

Upon seeing her good friend, her brain was telling her to smile, but her heart was telling to continue being shallow and as bitter as normal. “How can you possibly understand me?” Bridget asked, her voice cold and intimidating. It had honestly been a lifetime ago that he had ever had someone wanting to care about her. “Because I care, Bridget.” Tyler said, resting a hand gently on her arm. The girl yanked her arm away and sighed, folding her arms across her stomach and shaking her head. “Tyler, you can’t care about me. Y-You just can’t.” The dark haired girl responded. “And why is that?” The other questioned, looking at her with a concerned yet hopeful gaze. “It’s not how it’s supposed to happen. Nobody is mean’t to care. Not anyone, especially not you.” She said. “But I do. I’m sorry if it’s not what you want, but it’s happening whether you like it or not.” Tyler stated bluntly. With those words, it felt like warmth in her chest was melting the ice away slowly from her heart. 

This feeling had been around for a while. Whenever Tyler came about, her heart seemed to beat again.

It was an impossible feeling because she was a ghost.

Taking the courage to show up took Thomas a little bit longer than it usually does. He could be a sharp, decided man, but when it came to feelings, well, he was illiterate about that and overthinking became the way to go. Standing outside her building he played with the keys of his car for a while, still undecided. It was a definitive meeting, Tom didn't even know if she was willing to see or hear what he had to say, which in short was: I'm sorry. 

He let out a long sigh and turned to the building making his way in, straight to the elevator. His hands were sweaty, all kinds of thoughts running through his head. What did she want to say? what would she explain? would she slap him on the face? He had no idea and it made him nervous. By the time the elevator door opened his eyes closed and he dared to step outside. He was there.