[TXT:] Do I “want” to? I’ve never thought about it!

[TXT:] Do you want me to teach you to drive?

[TXT:] Weston can see and interact with dead people…

[TXT:] I would only be mad if you let him experience CSI: Miami. 

[TXT:] That doesn’t make any sense.

[TXT:] Neither did “hashbrown” but that isn’t the point.

[TXT:] He would. He has already said, on multiple occasions, that he would like a dog.

[TXT:] But he’s very allergic. 

[TXT:] Weston.

[TXT:] He has decided that today he is going to be difficult.

[TXT:] There is... too much fresh air... and you’re suffocating...

[TXT:] You let him climb a tree? Why would you let him do that?

[TXT:] I know. I don’t expect you to forgive me.

[TXT:] I’m relieved to hear that you understand, at least.

[TXT:] His spirit friend.

[TXT:] [A picture of a man is sent through].

[TXT:] I did some research on him and have made a folder. Do you want to read it?

[TXT:] Make sure you take one of my bottles of hand sanitiser with you.

Vera had noticed the girl drifting in and out of consciousness for the past fifteen minutes, but said nothing on it, nor made any inclination of her awareness. Scarlett had tried staying awake, though her head had dipped a few times as if sleep might take her soon. They rarely got to spend time together, just the two of them, these days. This was the first quiet night they’d had in weeks, and Vera was thankful for it. Weston was tucked nicely into his crib upstairs, and there was no sense of impending doom on the horizon. Perhaps she could kid herself into thinking that, from here on out, everything was going to be fine; in the flickering light of the television, it seemed almost easy. Vera was just about to suggest that Scarlett go to bed too when the girl’s head suddenly fell against her shoulder. Vera listened to the girl take in a long breath, and waited for her to let it out again before she smiled. Scarlett trusted her again. With little hesitancy, Vera rest her cheek atop the girl’s head and hummed once, gently; happily. She wondered if this was what it would have been like, nineteen years down the line, with her own daughter, and concluded that yes, this was exactly what it would have been like. 

“--Wait, are you just going to cut the wrapping paper like that?” Vera actually looked horrified for a moment, staring at the scissors in Scarlett’s hands, the blade of which was just about to slice through the middle of a cartoon penguin in a Santa Claus hat. Vera held a ruler in one hand, frozen in place. “We have to measure each gift and then every bit of wrapping paper before we do any cutting.” Her lips twitched, as did her left eye, albeit the movement was very subtle. “And you’re going to sever that penguin if you move those scissors anymore than you already have.” Brows lifting, the woman gave the most serious of looks. “You’re not going to give Weston a wrapped present with a dismembered penguin printed on it. This is Christmas, not Halloween.” Vera paused for a very, very long time, without any inclination of dropping her strict facade. It was just before Scarlett was about to speak that Vera’s demeanour shifted, and she tilted her chin up, the corners of her lips twitching. “That was a joke.” A discreetly smug smile slipped itself across Vera’s face as she watched Scarlett relax, though it abruptly fell when the girl started to cut the paper again. “No that wasn’t a part of the joke! We really are going to measure all of this first -- stop!” In her small panic, she smacked the ruler across Scarlett’s knuckles, not too hard, but enough to make a sound. At which point Vera pulled it back and pinched the ruler’s other end with her other hand, looking sheepish.

Scarlett only nodded, not saying any more about Vera’s late night gym trip. She suspected the reason the woman wanted to be alone in the gym was because of the scar she’d hurried to cover up even in Scarlett’s presence; Vera had never been the type of person to want to talk about her feelings, or even open up that much to anyone. The scar was a topic of conversation she didn’t want to go into, and covering it up stopped it from being in most people’s minds. Despite the fact the two of them hadn’t spoken all that much in the months following the tragic incident, the times they had were the times that Scarlett had tried to speak properly with Vera about what had happened. That was part of the reason most of their conversations were cut short, and had long periods of silence between them. She’d kept asking even though Vera wasn’t ready to speak about it, something she’d only recently realised. Eventually she nodded. “Yeah, I can bet you were going a little stir crazy in there. Does it feel better? Getting out for a little while?” The gym, she supposed, was better than nothing. As Vera spoke a frown grew on Scarlett’s face, and she swallowed as her hands fidgeted inside her pockets. Priscilla. Even the name made her uncomfortable now, and she could imagine the sensation was worse was worse for Vera. She took another step towards the woman but didn’t draw too close. “Like a ghost, right?” For a moment she chewed on her bottom lip, struggling to find the right thing to say. “She’s not… really a ghost. I asked Ash to check. Just to be safe.”  Scarlett had heard some terrible things that ghosts could do – if Priscilla was hanging around in a more tangible afterlife, she wanted to be sure the woman couldn’t get her undead hands on Vera. “But I know what you mean. Like there’s some kind of imprint following you around, right?”

Vera stared and said nothing else for a moment, lips slowly thinning the longer she thought about Scarlett’s question. “No, it doesn’t.” She answered, honest. Her guard slipped a little, and she had to look away and take in a breath before continuing. “It’s difficult to switch off my thoughts. I haven’t been able to do it for months.” She cupped her hands together, looking down at them for a few long seconds. “I’m tired.” Her last words left her in a sigh, and her shoulders slumped a little (at least as much as her posture’s strictness would allow). Vera found it much easier to relax around Scarlett than she did with anyone else, but the feeling was one of the most foreign things she had ever experienced. Whenever she felt herself slipping, she would clam right back up again, almost like it pained her to be anything but. Not knowing what to do with her hands all of a sudden, she crossed her arms. 

Scarlett’s next words made a short burst of air escape through her nose, like the subject was silly; like she was embarrassed. “Yes, exactly like that.” Vera looked up when she heard Scarlett move closer. She almost considered asking for a hug, of all things, but she squashed the feeling because it left her with this queasy knot in her belly. “It’s funny that I never used to believe in ghosts, all things considered. I can manipulate the human body and you can create portals. Ghosts should not have been my biggest scepticism.” She rambled the slightest amount, uncomfortable, and remained silent for another few seconds to just think. When a certain thought came to mind, she hesitated, and again looked at Scarlett. “Thank you.” Vera nodded once before continuing. “Not for saving me and my son, that’s not -- I already said thank you for that. I’m saying thank you for something else.” She licked her lips because she found they’d grown somewhat drier. “I think... I think you understand me the most.” Out of everyone in my life. “I know that I haven’t given you much reason to believe that lately, but it is true. That’s how I feel.”