"…you didn't move? What a surprise," Mira said, making her way down the stairs from the loft she was on. I heard everything that went on, but I didn't have it in me to ask.
Whatever she did to that thing up there only took her less than two minutes, so I couldn't imagine how long it would take her to get rid of me too.
"Yeah, you said to," I responded, yet somehow her head tilted to the side, a confused look crossing her face as she raised an eyebrow.
I didn't even say anything out of the ordinary for her to be confused about. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"You didn't go near it..." she asked, cutting her words short to let the small smile threatening to slip out—out. "....because I asked?" she finished, more amused than anything at the information I gave her.
I nodded, not understanding her.
Then—
She looked at the thing, who couldn't really be called a "thing." Instead, it looked like a typical human—a young East Asian-looking woman, with long jet-black hair and sickly past like pale skin.
The only warm colours in her face was from her bright pink lips alongside her round dulcet chubby rossy cheeks.
Standing silently in front of the broken glass window, tapping at it with a crooked fingernail.
One that only stopped as soon as Mira started descending down the staircase. It was scared of her. Practically behaving itself.
Then she looked back at me.
Then back at the woman, who had a long strand of her own hair in her mouth, chewing on it. Almond-golden-brown eyes blinked innocently back at Mira, who didn't hesitate to move her gaze back to me.
For a moment, Mira's eyes darted between us—her, then me, then back to her, then me again.
So much so that I couldn't help myself and asked, "What?" impatient to know what was so amusing to her. But she didn't say anything, her lips pressing together in a thinking line as her gaze drifted away from me.
"Seriously, what?" I asked again, but yet again she ignored me.
Then she just said, "Wow, that is impressive." She sized me up once. "Even for a gay men," she added, clearly implying something.
"Wh—I'm not," I immediately clarified in the middle of her inspection. She raised an eyebrow—and I could feel the woman behind the glass do the same.
"Really?" she asked as if she couldn't believe that, her eyes widening then knitting together.
What was so confusing about that?
"Yes, really," I answered, slightly defensively and without leaving any space for argument.
For a second, there was dead silence between the three of us. Now I kind of wished that woman-thing hadn't stopped tapping on the glass.
But like a miracle worker, reading my mind, it tapped on the glass.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Just a millisecond before Mira could open her mouth. I could practically hear what she was about to ask—another skeptical "really."
But alas, my savior was that thing, grabbing both of our attention—waving its wrist back and forth at us to come closer.
"…Ladies first?" I asked, not wanting to go near that monster after what it did to me last night.
Although the pain and feeling were gone, I still remembered its nails ripping me open and running away, leaving me for dead after I tried saving it.
"What a gentleman, letting the lady face danger first?" she snickered. And as much as I wanted to save my poor, old damaged ego, I wasn't going to bite the hook, line, and sinker in one day to go near it—no way.
Instead, I moved back while she moved forward toward it.
The thing stopped tapping, and with a soft puff, fox ears appeared, immediately followed by them flattening backward. Like a distrustful, scared cat. Its eyes hardened, glowing slightly more golden, erasing the brown slightly, glaring at Mira as she moved closer.
That somehow prompted me to take another step back.
I watched Mira take her hand out of her pocket, the foxy woman moving slightly, almost as though flinching away.
Something about that left a bad taste in my mouth.
Making me want to—what am I thinking?
Mira lifted her hand, palm open and clear, moving closer till she was right at the window, calmly approaching it.
Even if the fox lady didn't relax—but she didn't attack either.
Then they spoke in some language I couldn't understand. It sounded vaguely Spanish, but with a Korean accent to me.
My eyes couldn't help but compare them. The fox was seemingly more alive than Mira's doll-like eyes and strong presence in the room, demanding my eyes stay on her.
Mostly on the unusually electric deep blue eyes that were surrounded by crystal baby blue in the middle.
"Oi, kid. She's saying you owe her a favor. Call her if you need something," Mira said, slightly turning her head to face me, taking me out of my moment of watching them talk like a creep.
A sense of panic ran through me, and I lifted my hand, giving them a thumbs-up—what am I doing with my life, I thought to myself.
I didn't fully register what she said at first.
But when I did,
my eyes widened slightly—not just at what she said, but also because the thing took the opportunity to run while Mira was looking at me, back into the forest it came from.
Whether Mira knew about it and let it slide, I couldn't tell. But I did notice her ear twitch slightly—she can do that, apparently.
She didn't even look back. "Randy, you should hold it over its head. Great opportunity," she said, walking back toward me like she wasn't saying something completely bonkers.
Yet again, my mouth was left with a distasteful feeling. The idea practically sickened me.
"Right."
"So, shall we head back? It's almost your bedtime," she said, a hint of teasing in her voice.
But like I said, she's bad at being playful. It sounded more mocking than anything—yet I could somehow tell the difference.
"Ahah, very funny, Miss Nelson." I rolled my eyes as she reached me and walked past, grabbing my bag and carrying it for me again.
"I can take that for myself," I said, walking slightly beside her rather than behind her like I had been doing for so long.
She didn't answer, her face blank. I swear my words keep falling on deaf ears every time I say something she doesn't want to hear.
We stepped out of the abandoned church, being greeted by greenery and blue sky, the afternoon still long ahead of us.
"You're dropping me back home? You don't—"
She cut me off. "Do you need a job?"
A simple question—yes. But so random.
"Uh… are you hiring?" I asked, unsure of myself. Did I want to be hired by… her?
No, I didn't.
"No. But I know someone who is," she said, though it sounded almost like she was asking me.
Then it hit me.
And I stopped.
Blinking at her—she kept walking toward the path we used to get here.
How did she know I was looking for a job?