Ten

Miriam eventually talked me into the long, heavy walk to her apartment. This time though, she stayed close to me, her arms entwined with mine as we strode, neither of us taking a step without the other.

Every now and again, she would turn to look at me, almost as if to make sure I was still there, despite her hold. But I wasn’t there. Not really. I was still stuck in that doorway, listening to Sophie scream. I was exhausted.

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she guided me down onto the sofa, suddenly inside her apartment.

Was I? I hadn’t considered it, but my stomach rumbled at her question. “Yeah.”

“Is Chinese okay?” she started to turn away then but I grabbed her wrist, suddenly panicked.

Miriam’s eyes flashed to me, startled, but she didn’t pull away.

“Don’t go,” I begged, suddenly unable to part with her. “Please.”

“Collin,” she coaxed, concern evident behind her eyes. “I was just going to get the menu.” She pointed toward a cabinet on the wall, but I couldn’t bear it. I shook my head, silently begging her not to.

Eventually, she swallowed and sat next to me. I released her but she stayed in contact with me, lacing her arm through mine. She leaned her cheek against my shoulder, her breaths long and heavy. I was so grateful she was real.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that faceless figure. And every time Miriam’s touch retracted, I worried it would never return. But Miriam seemed to understand, and she intentionally touched my arm as she retrieved her phone from her pocket, and kept one arm against me while she placed my pillow in her lap before coaxing me to lie down.

I complied, relishing in the warmth of Miriam’s abdomen. One hand absentmindedly stroked my hair while she dialed with the other. And without realizing I was cold, she pulled the blanket to my neck, solidifying the safety of the couch, of her.

For the first time since we’d left, I closed my eyes without seeing the figure, as I listened to Miriam relay our order. My heart slowed with her sweet voice. She made even the menu of a Chinese takeout sound sweet and soothing. And when she hung up, I was so relaxed that it took me several minutes to notice.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, but I ignored the question.

As Miriam continued to run her fingers through my hair, my mind finally calmed.

When my eyes reopened, Miriam had moved, leaving me tucked in on the couch. The little bit of sleep gave me both fog and clarity. I moved to sit up just as Miriam finished spreading the Chinese on the table. Her warm smile greeted me and I felt drawn to her. I stood, suddenly in need of a drink to hold.

“Is there anymore beer?” I asked, making my way to the table, and Miriam nodded as she retrieved a fresh two from the fridge, passing one to me as I took my place in front of my chicken fried rice. There was a silence as we ate, but Miriam eyed me carefully between bites. I knew I should feel embarrassed, and I did, but ultimately I just wanted a drink.

“Do you have anything harder?” I complained when, mid-way through my bottle, I still felt uncomfortable.

Still without speaking, Miriam moved to the small cabinet above her fridge, rifling through on her tip toes until finally, “Sorry, it’s pretty empty right now. I’ve got half a bottle of vodka and a basically new bottle of Black Velvet.”

I smirked. The cheap stuff Sophie would always keep on hand to get her through the next paycheck. “Yeah, I’ll have that.”

Miriam scrunched her face as she passed me the bottle and a glass from the same cabinet. “It was a gift. I think it’s vile.”

She returned to her noodles then. I was grateful for the creature comfort of casual conversation, especially after the compromising state she had witnessed me in. The sound of her chopsticks clicking together was soothing. Everything she did was soothing.

“You’re not eating,” she complained softly and it occurred to me that I was frozen, staring at the food in front of me as if it weren’t real.

“Sorry.” I immediately went in for a forkful, Miriam’s concerned eyes on me throughout.

Once she returned to her box, I drank the small glass of whisky in a single go, in an attempt to keep it down. Whisky was never my drink, but I needed to feel closer to Sophie, and if this is what it took, I would do it blindly.

As we neared the end of our meal, Miriam looked antsy and suddenly the dynamic switched, her avoiding my eyes while mine pried at her. “What’s up?” I finally asked, needing her attention to return to me.

“I’m going to need a fix,” she admitted, her eyes apologetic as she looked up. “Between my shoes and the not sleeping, I’m drained.”

I sighed, returning my fork to stab a bit of chicken lost in the bottom of the rice. “Okay.”

“Don’t be mad,” she begged, and I furrowed my brow at her.

“Mad?”

“You’re always mad when I go out. Just, please, don’t be.”

“You just went out last night,” I countered, resentment returning faster than I realized.

“With you,” she reminded, her words slow and careful. “I cancelled my date, for you, and tonight, for you. But now it’s to the point where I need a fix. Please don’t do this.”

I excused myself from the table then, returning to the couch with the bottle but leaving the glass. “Do what you want.”

“Collin,” she complained, and I took another burning drink. When the bottle lowered, she was in front of me, eyeing me in that firm-but-submissive way she always did when we disagreed at work. She wanted to give me the impression that I was in control, while also trying to control me, and I wasn’t having it now.

“I’m just surprised that after all this, you’re going to leave me alone to go get fucked.” My tone was as nonchalant as I could manage, but I begged her to take the bait, to argue with me, to be so incensed with me that when it would come time to go, she would forget, and it would remain just the two of us.

But she didn’t yell. She stopped looking at me. She retreated to her chair and stared out the window with tears in her eyes. It annoyed me. It annoyed me when she brought her knees to her chest. It annoyed me when she propped her chin on them, looking pathetically sad as she contemplated. It annoyed me how melodramatic she was being about something as stupid as getting laid. And as I took another gulp, I hated her. I didn’t want her to be here. I didn’t want to be here with her. I wanted her to know how little I thought of her, how little I thought about her, but I couldn’t find the words quickly enough.

“Just come out with me,” she prodded once she regained control of herself, and I rolled my eyes. “It will do you good to go out.”

Miriam rose from her chair then, moving to sit on the edge of the couch, next to me but not, close enough to demand my attention but far enough to not let me melt into her.

I closed my eyes and took a deep, annoyed breath before cutting my eyes to her. “It wouldn’t.”

“It would,” she promised, moving to touch my shoulder. “Come on. Just once. Last night was okay, wasn’t it? We can hunt together. If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go again.”

I relaxed into the couch then, searching her eyes for a lie. “Promise?”

Miriam looked deeply into my eyes then. So deeply, I found it invasive, but she wasn’t letting up. “On my life.”


Before I had time to complain any more, we were showered, dressed, and at a different bar from the night before.

“How are you going to pick someone up with me here?” I finally asked as we slid into a booth together, but Miriam barely took notice.

“It’ll be fine, I promise.” She took a moment to look at me then, to give me that firm-but-submissive look again. “You need it too.”

I rolled my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do today was scout.

“Pay attention,” she chastised, and I slumped into my seat. This was going to be an annoying night.

It wasn’t long until Miriam had a bite of interest, and I was sure it would give me a break from her, but instead she invited the shmuck to sit in her side of her booth with her, across from me. Was she really going to babysit me all night?

I would have been better off at Miriam’s alone. Her flirting was one thing. Watching this guy try to discreetly paw at her was another entirely. But I found myself watching Miriam, her methods, and it was remarkable to see the contrast in their tactics.

The guy was incredibly hands-on, his hands busy as he tried to get in subtle grabs and feels, but Miriam sat beautifully, her hands neatly folded in her lap, with her face close to the guy’s, as if she had all the secrets in the world to tell him. And when Miriam moved her hand to rest on his leg instead of her own, his pawing ceased, and I grew more and more annoyed. Her approach was so soft, so subtle, but was clearly effective, as her nose nudged his cheek to punctuate her soft laugh at his unfunny joke, as her lips danced near his ear as she told her own, punctuating her punchline with a kiss.

It was pathetic watching his mouth open and shut with her lips on his ear. It was as if I wasn’t even here and I desperately wished I wasn’t.

But then, Miriam’s eyes flicked to me, and I flushed, immediately breaking the contact out of embarrassment. Then her soft, pantyhosed leg slowly slid up mine, and when I finally returned my eyes to her, I realized she was trying to draw my attention to something. Disappointed, I looked in the direction her eyes dictated, and there was a middle aged woman with a heavy coat and lots of rings adorning her fingers.

I couldn’t help but smirk then. She was Miriam’s target’s equivalent in female form. Past their prime, their egos inflated with their status, and a look like they had nowhere better to be.

When I shook my head at Miriam, her foot rose further up my leg, insisting. As she reached the cushion of my seat with her foot, I exited the booth, unable to bear her touch any longer. She smiled, pleased with her efforts, and returned her attention to the entranced target next to her.

I dusted myself off and approached the woman, who reeked of sour-smelling perfume and was already complaining to the bartender about the service, despite having only just arrived. I went through the motions then, barely aware of them. First I indulged in complaining with her, she loved that; then, the question, some variation of ‘what brings you here?’; a compliment mixed with empathy, usually a variation of ‘how could x let a beautiful woman like you drink alone?’

Once I realized I wasn’t even listening to her responses, I hoped everything was coming out as it should, but her positive body language assured me that all was on track. My eyes flicked back to Miriam and again, I was annoyed at her. Was this really necessary? I could still feel the tingle of her stockinged foot as it traced up my leg.

I looked at the target again to feign attentiveness, but it didn’t matter. She had seen me look at Miriam and her face fell with the realization of a woman in competition. As I again grew annoyed with Miriam’s presence, the woman suddenly became more suggestive with me. Perhaps trying to convince herself that she’s not yet out of the running?

It wasn’t long after that I was stumbling out of the women’s room—always the women’s room—alone. The woman had lost herself in mid-life crisis sobs mid-act and I wasn’t going to stick around to console her; I had what I needed.

As I approached our familiar booth, Miriam was straightening her lipstick in a compact mirror. She snapped the compact closed when I reached her, glowing, as usual. Her sweet, inviting smile was everything I needed in that moment. But again, I missed Sophie.

“Shots?” I offered her without explanation and after she scrunched her nose, she shrugged.

“Yeah, why not?”

We moved to the bar, the rest of the night tasting of tequila, salt, and lemon. Miriam matched me shot for shot and I was grateful to be in the company of someone who could drink like Sophie, especially now. The night began to blur into itself as we went, my drinks of the day mixing with my newfound Glow, and I was exuberant. I eagerly counted down the shots, the 3-2-1 sounding as beautiful from Miriam as I had ever heard it.

But then, I heard the familiar post-shot exhale/shout combination that could only be her…and when I looked to my right, there she was, her hair high in her jet black bouffant, her face made in the style of Elizabeth Taylor, beaming at me, her lips puckered around her lemon as her smile shown through on either side—my Sophie.

“Another?” she always asked as soon as she spit the lemon into her shot glass, her eyes alight with her intoxication.

“Of course,” I responded as I wished I could, and the bartender with his greasy pompadour poured us each another without us having to explicitly ask him. Everywhere we went, everyone always kept Sophie’s glasses filled.

She was counting before I could prepare myself, as she always did, and I had to rush to salt my hand to keep up with her. Salt, shot, burn, lemon, Sophie. My pattern was always the same if I could help it, and I was grateful that my post-hunt routine would not be broken tonight.

“Fuck, Col,” she shouted too loudly as she slammed her shot glass on the bar. “I’m not feeling anything yet.” Her familiar post-half-a-dozen-shots complaint.

“You’re drinking them too fast,” I reminded her, as I always did, and she waved me off, as she always did.

“Another?”

It was our routine. Always the same. Every time we went drinking, even when she was older and we would have our more sporadic nights out, when we began going to darker places because she was self-conscious of her wrinkles under the fluorescents of the places she so loved in her youth.

“Another?” I heard again, this time from my left. Sophie was gone. The pompadoured bartender was there, sure, but his hair was a throwback instead of current style, and far less greasy than it had been just moments before. But when I looked to my left, she remained, sweet Miriam, with her blonde, wavy curls framing her face, radiating Glow and with sultry eyes that pierced. “Or are we finished?”

I blinked before turning my gaze again to my right, but the seat was empty. “One more,” I decided as I turned back to Miriam, and she flagged down the bartender.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurted as he placed the shots in front of us, lemons over the top, and Miriam blushed as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re drunk.”

I took the small glass in my hand as I salted the skin next to it, removing the lemon after returning the shaker to the bar. My eyes flicked back to Miriam, her cheeks flush with tequila. “I’m not feeling anything yet.”


I didn’t remember the walk back, or arriving at Miriam’s, but when I next opened my eyes, the sun was just beginning to peek through the massive living room window. I was facing the wrong way this time—the window instead of the kitchen—and the light must have been enough to wake me. I yawned as I stretched, oddly rested.

The morning looked beautiful. I rose from the couch just to move to the window, to be closer to the rays. Towering buildings and cityscape tried to stifle the sun, but it couldn’t. The sun was resilient. It was the beginning and the end. It rose yesterday and it would rise tomorrow, whether or not the buildings remained. I was jealous of such resilience.

A latched clicked, but my attention remained out the window.

“Oh, you’re up,” Miriam called sweetly from down the hall. Her voice was eager; she was pleased, and I was grateful she desired my company.

“I need to go to Lily’s today,” I told her without looking at her, and her footsteps stopped from where they were approaching me. When I did look at her, she had hesitated, her eyes uncertain, insecure even. Whatever her objection, I would need to counter it. I couldn’t put this off any longer.

“Okay,” she finally mustered as she resumed, stroking my bare back with a gentle hand as she passed. “Do you want breakfast?”

I turned to watch her as she made her way to the kitchen, stepping over my sheets where I’d left them hanging off the couch, into the floor. She remained exuberant, even today, as if her hesitation had never occurred. Miriam so puzzled me.

“Is that alright?” I found myself asking, suddenly needing her support.

She looked over her shoulder at me, a sweet smile on her face, and I melted. “I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t alright.”

“Going to Lily’s,” I corrected, and she returned her attention to the fridge.

“I’m not your keeper, Collin.”

You could have fooled me, I thought but didn’t vocalize.

“You’ll be back…after, right?” she asked without looking. I couldn’t pin down exactly what her question was, but I shrugged, returning my gaze to the window.

“You mean my babysitter’s going to let me venture into the big, bad lycanthrope territory all on my own?” I tried to tease, to erase that flatness in her voice, to encourage her usual lilt to return.

She laughed under her breath then. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Thankfully for Lily, we were a team now. And if she had been involved with Sophie, I would need Miriam. For what yet, I wasn’t sure. I just hoped my assumptions about my former friend were unfounded. Maybe she would have some answers.

{ Every now and again, she would turn to look at me, almost as if to make sure I was still there, despite her hold. But I wasn’t there. Not really. I was still stuck in that doorway, listening to Sophie scream. I was exhausted.

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she guided me down onto the sofa, suddenly inside her apartment.

Was I? I hadn’t considered it, but my stomach rumbled at her question. “Yeah.” }


----Had to comment on him saying he's not really there. That's a pretty powerful line for such a stubborn ass man. But his character is just starting to waken, and it feels appropriate to him to feel so dumb all of a sudden. He's got this big weight crashing which has suddenly crash landed on his shoulders (wallet, stolen machine, sophie, death of archdemon, Lily, danger, etc.) and he's not sure where all this is leading him, or how it might end. It seems fair for him to dwell on the one of those things he has the most grasp on understanding, and that was Sophie. Though he knew her so well, he is starting to see the flaws in the way he treated her. He's starting to mourn, regret, and love her. This is the easiest thing for him to 'feel' right now, and I believe that's why he's using this outlet to experience some real growth. Eventually, you were going to have to break the monotony of his life. All things have a beginning, middle and end. And this is where I believe Collin's middle begins. But I think the end is rapidly approaching. Not the end of his life persay, but the end of something that has marked his life for too long.

----Also, I love how he questions if he is there, in her apartment, after he says he's not 'there' on the street. it's like watching him slowly come out of hypnosis. He's starting to let the shock of this event die. Perhaps because he feels somewhere safe, like Mir's apartment?

And without realizing I was cold, she pulled the blanket to my neck, solidifying the safety of the couch, of her. ---Reinforcing the feeling I got. He's able to calm down here. He feels safe with her, in this place.

There was a silence as we ate, but Miriam eyed me carefully between bites. I knew I should feel embarrassed, and I did, but ultimately I just wanted a drink. ----This is something I was wondering if you were going to acknowledge! But I didn't want to bias you with my opinion! I got that vibe from Collin, like most men, that he would be embarrassed after showing such weakness. Especially when he seems to cling to Miriam, as he really never does before. Thank you for utilizing this. It's much more realistic than him not being embarrassed. If he weren't, I'm afraid we'd have to call Lifetime and see if they want to take on the icky romance you could have easily taken and ran with! I knew you wouldn't, just wanted to affirm that you're awesome, and this story is awesome, and you totally know your characters better than that!!!!!

“Do you have anything harder?” I complained when, mid-way through my bottle, I still felt uncomfortable. ----- <3 <3 He's so destructive. Love.

Still without speaking, Miriam moved to the small cabinet above her fridge, rifling through on her tip toes until finally, “Sorry, it’s pretty empty right now. I’ve got half a bottle of vodka and a basically new bottle of Black Velvet.” -----OMG!!!!11!!!! BLACK VELVET MEMORIES!!!!! BUT FUCKING PASS COLLIN! PASSS! I wouldn't drink that now if I was desperate. Just the smell makes me wanna die, and I never even got sick on it! I hate whiskey! Go for the vodka!!! Always go for the vodka!

I smirked. The cheap stuff Sophie would always keep on hand to get her through the next paycheck. “Yeah, I’ll have that.” ---Cool way to open up both Sophie and Collin's character here with just this minute detail. <3

Miriam scrunched her face as she passed me the bottle and a glass from the same cabinet. “It was a gift. I think it’s vile.” ----She totally gets me. I fucking love her. <3 Goddamn, I lover her. <3

----I love the little chopstick/fork thing you used. It sets Mir and Col apart so well. Of course Mir would use chopsticks. Of course Col would use a fork. Of course. <3

----Omg Collin's totally getting jell. And he's been drinking. Shits about to go down. What are you planning? Wtf are you planning!!!???

------Omg, she's telling him what for. She did cancel her dates! For him! Omg.

But she didn’t yell. She stopped looking at me. She retreated to her chair and stared out the window with tears in her eyes. It annoyed me. It annoyed me when she brought her knees to her chest. It annoyed me when she propped her chin on them, looking pathetically sad as she contemplated. It annoyed me how melodramatic she was being about something as stupid as getting laid. And as I took another gulp, I hated her. I didn’t want her to be here. I didn’t want to be here with her. I wanted her to know how little I thought of her, how little I thought about her, but I couldn’t find the words quickly enough. ------You should know, this bit is so strong, that I almost got annoyed with her. I kinda feel how he does, I kinda wish she would slap him again or some shit. But she's done so much for him, she just expects/wants him to be reasonable. There's only so much a woman can take. But this bit, very good job. I was right there with Collin, and then I membered my sweet Miriam. And then I was mad at him again. Love. <3

Miriam looked deeply into my eyes then. So deeply, I found it invasive, but she wasn’t letting up. “On my life.”----This felt really dirty/sly. 3 way? Drain another person until they're old....or dead Love.

The guy was incredibly hands-on, his hands busy as he tried to get in subtle grabs and feels, but Miriam sat beautifully, her hands neatly folded in her lap, with her face close to the guy’s, as if she had all the secrets in the world to tell him. And when Miriam moved her hand to rest on his leg instead of her own, his pawing ceased, and I grew more and more annoyed. Her approach was so soft, so subtle, but was clearly effective, as her nose nudged his cheek to punctuate her soft laugh at his unfunny joke, as her lips danced near his ear as she told her own, punctuating her punchline with a kiss. -----How in the fuck do you take such a seemingly slutty act and make it seem so goddamn innocent? Damn. That's fucking gold. You can't even make her slutty. She's so awesome, so beautiful, so regal, so elegant, that even scouting for a fuck, you can't even make her slutty!!!!!11!!!! And I love it so much! I'm totally rooting for her. LOVE <3 <3 <3 <3

I couldn’t help but smirk then. She was Miriam’s target’s equivalent in female form. Past their prime, their egos inflated with their status, and a look like they had nowhere better to be. ----Fucking love. Stolen.

----Ton to quote, so I'll just tell you. I love the juxtaposition of the woman he's trying to get Glow from and Miriam. I love how he keeps looking back at her. You did a freaking awesome job summarizing what he did to get in her pants Because, God knows, I didn't want to read that bore. And Col obvs didn't wanna talk about it. He wants Miriam so bad. He's super jell. I'm super jell for him.

It wasn’t long after that I was stumbling out of the women’s room—always the women’s room—alone. The woman had lost herself in mid-life crisis sobs mid-act and I wasn’t going to stick around to console her; I had what I needed. ---- <3 LOVE! He's so cold, and I love.

----I looked up bouffant, and LOL! Love

Everywhere we went, everyone always kept Sophie’s glasses filled. ----And I bet she never paid Love.

Salt, shot, burn, lemon, Sophie. ----OMFG, I love this so much! STOLEN FOREVER!!!!

It was our routine. Always the same. Every time we went drinking, even when she was older and we would have our more sporadic nights out, when we began going to darker places because she was self-conscious of her wrinkles under the fluorescents of the places she so loved in her youth. ----This is so beautifully heartwrenching. I love his little hallucination station. It's such a good way to weave the story together. But this honestly made me so sad!

The morning looked beautiful. I rose from the couch just to move to the window, to be closer to the rays. Towering buildings and cityscape tried to stifle the sun, but it couldn’t. The sun was resilient. It was the beginning and the end. It rose yesterday and it would rise tomorrow, whether or not the buildings remained. I was jealous of such resilience. -----Okay, I'm just gonna still this whole paragraph....yeah...thanks. And morning <3 my favorite setting! But super cereal, I want this. It's fucking beautiful, obvs.

“You mean my babysitter’s going to let me venture into the big, bad lycanthrope territory all on my own?” I tried to tease, to erase that flatness in her voice, to encourage her usual lilt to return. ---Sometimes, I frikin love the things you say, Col. And other times, I JUST WANNA RIP YOUR GODDAMN HEAD OFF! But not right now.

----I almost died, I almost thought she wasn't going to go with him, then I was gonna be mad. I was gonna ask what her deal was. Idk, Mir seems iffy about going to Lily's. Either she's jell, or she feels danger. But if she felt danger, no way would she let him go alone. Or maybe it's something else. But I'm gonna call jell. But no, seriously beautiful, insightful chapter. What a chapter to come back to after being gone for almost two days. Can't wait to move on. And I don't want you to sleep before you read this! So I'm going to post it now and hope that the above comments will make up for what I'm not summarizing and commenting. Which, I really commented on everything I wanted to, so it's cool.

Love, Bf
!!!!!!!11!!!!!
PS. I really want to steal that paragraph about morning/sun.