within this new dynamic, they are once again strangers, and misty feels as though she should reintroduce herself. the details are pressed between the notecards that she hands to ivory: who she is, who her family is, her co-workers, her few friends…over the last week, she has compiled in careful handwriting all that she thinks her 'girlfriend' should know before meeting her family. ❝ if you have questions, or if you think i have missed something important… ❞ the necrophile shrinks away from the sentence and into her thin cardigan, embarrassed that things have come to this.

if cabinetry could talk, it would tell misty rucker that her professor finds eating to be an inconvenience throughout a busy workday. the cabinets are filled with little more than pantry staples, and, in fact, they are not filled with much at all. to her surprise, the contents therein are obsessively organized; four boxes of cheerios are in order of expiration date, the spices are sorted alphabetically, and all the dried pasta has been transferred to clear, labeled jars. she speaks to mémé on the phone, trying to work out a hearty meal she can make with what food is available. ❝ elle a de la farine, du sucre blanc, de l'avoine… ❞

ivory likes to ask questions, and misty does not have qualms about answering most of them. however, her phone is not a nicer model with predictive texting, which makes lengthy explanations laborious. when the question: what is it you like about working on difficult cases? appears on her screen, she knows there is no short answer. her thumb hovers over the dial key for several long minutes before, finally, she presses it – deciding to do what she's been thinking about doing for the past week ( now that she has the privacy ).

the brunette practically skips with glee as she turns back from yet another strike; misty rolls her eyes, standing on the precipice of the approach. her arms uncross only to catch her 'girlfriend' as she's making her victorious strut back to their seats. ❝ uh-uh. if this is going to be a fair game, you have to teach me how to play. ❞

thoughts of classwork are far from her mind when the younger woman opens her front door, looking even more casual than she had last friday. misty smiles at the adorable sight, almost laughing. those must be her pajamas. ❝ hi. ❞

misty rucker is not accustomed to looking at someone and thinking lewd thoughts. but, as of late, and as she gazes down at her phone screen, lit up with a photo of ivory grimes' naked breasts, all she can think about is how much she enjoys the soft, cold flesh in her hands and her nipples in her mouth. the anticipation makes her shiver ( as time warp echoes faintly through the car radio ) and SQUIRM. and she's inside the house without realizing, seeking out the attention of her fake girlfriend. ❝ salut, ❞ she greets while depositing her things among the mess that is the dinning room table.

the psychology building is quiet. mostly unoccupied at this hour – except for the looming sense that there should be something lurking where there is nothing. tonight, misty rucker is dressed in camouflage and without makeup to conceal the dark circles under her eyes; tonight, she is the graveyard ripper, and she knocks, per the email she received, on her professor’s door.

❝ have you been teaching marley big words when i'm not around? ❞ john asks over an open bottle of beer, his other hand placed upon his hip in paternal display. ❝ before i dropped her off at carolyn's this afternoon, she said i needed to stop being so, i don't know, obes–obsess– obsequious. it was embarrassing. ❞