When there came a knock on the door early on Dr. Rafael Llewin's day off, he nearly lost what was left of his sanity and leapt out the window. It had to be the police. No one else would show up at his door at ten thirty in the morning, when he was cowering over a cup of coffee and hoping, against hope, that when Frederick Harper left for a "walk", he'd leave permanently.
Bang, bang, bang. Each slam against the door made Rafael sink further into the couch. There was nothing on heaven or earth that could command him to open that door.
Maybe they'll think no one's home. Maybe they'll go about their business, and come back later, when I've already packed my bags and moved to Venezuela.
BANG, BANG, BANG.
...Or maybe they'll break in and search the place since no one's here. The victim managed to get in a few screams last night; that's more than enough evidence to incite a search warrant. I can't possibly pass as a female-
BANG.
Heaving in a breath, Rafael set the coffee down on the table and rose slowly to his feet. He took one step at a time, heart hammering against his chest to the beat of the banging against his door, and clenched his fists once more before grasping the door handle and wrenching it open.
It was, in retrospect, not worth worrying about.
Standing before him was someone he knew well. A family friend, Emilie Morganstern and her parents had been close to the Llewin's since Raf was a teenager. Recently, her parents were killed in a brutal home invasion, and Emilie had been bouncing from family member to family member, not quite fitting in anywhere. They'd talked a few times on the phone recently, but Raf hadn't seen her in person since the funeral.
And now here she was, standing in his doorway, with her faux-leather backpack slung carelessly over her shoulder and a fake sunflower pressed behind her ear. Rafael was thrown for a loop. It wasn't the police. It was a twenty one year old girl.
He wasn't saying anything, so she probably figured she should be the first one to talk. "Hey, Raf," she said, nonchalantly, as though she were a kid coming over her friend's house after a day at school. She gave a little wave, and then peered around him. "...Mind if I come inside?"
Truth be told, Rafael was so god damned relieved that he didn't have to pack his bags this afternoon that he was at a loss for words. Thankfully, her talking first gave him the ability to gather his thoughts, and then was able to give her a large smile and open the door wider for her. "You're always welcome in my home, Emilie."
"Fantastic, because I'm starving," she pushed past him, however not unkindly, and he chuckled, thoughts of the police and the serial killer that slept on his couch flying away temporarily. "Do you eat anymore, Raf? The last time I saw you, you were on a strict diet of air and protein bars."
He smirked. "Ah, yes. I've thus changed since then," he gestured to the cabinet in the back, hooking his thumbs on the small pockets of his waistcoat, and sat back onto the couch. "Help yourself."
Throwing open the cabinet door, Emilie let out a small laugh and grabbed a box of Cheezits. Hmm. Raf didn't remember buying Cheezits - the realization that it wasn't him, or rather was his house-mate, made his stomach flip and all thoughts of his recent four weeks of terror returned.
Fuck, what if he came back and she was still there?
Harper was many things, but he wasn't foolish. He wouldn't bring in a screaming victim when Raf had a guest in the house. He may appear unannounced and make an absolute spectacle of himself, but even then he probably wouldn't chance it. He would appear after Rafael panicked and rushed his friend out the door, leaning suavely against the couch and would inquire upon the girl, who she was, and how soon he could off her.
