iv.
You looked terrible. I didn’t care.
I suppose that would’ve been off-putting to some. But I understood, you’d been through hell. How could anyone expect you to look presentable, to not be shivering and cold and miserable? You didn’t want to be there; as you’d later tell me, you never had. All you’d done was get in the way.
But it only made you human.
It made you perfect.
“Don’t.”
It’s funny, that she tried to “warn” me. What did she think I was going to do to you? I meant no harm, I could have ended both of you the moment you stepped in, you knew that. She knew that.
But she didn’t care. She thought she was better than me—always did, always will. It’s my favorite delusion.
“I brought them in for shelter,” she claimed. “That is it. Don’t be weird about it.”
For how long, I asked; overnight, she said.
“They’ll be lucky if they last an hour.” I said this sadly as I could muster. “You’re kidding yourself if you think otherwise.”
“One got invited.”
“And the other?”
She couldn’t reply to that. Of course she couldn’t. We both knew.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Kay Lin.” I flashed her a smile. “I’ll take care of her.”
You must forgive me for being smug. I haven’t had the opportunity for so long…. She thinks she’s better because she goes outside, can still look normal, likes to tell herself she can resist our nature. But I know what I am, and I don’t impose it on people.
If someone comes by, fine. But I won’t seek them out. I won’t. I can’t.
I know how it ends.