Displaced

Timber - Sixty

"I'm telling you, it was creepy," I said in a hushed voice as I searched around for a sewing kit of some kind.

"Why are you whispering?" Wicken asked from the living room couch. He'd arrived shortly after I did with leftovers from the restaurant, more specifically, tiramisu. Loved the stuff, but I think eating it would send me over the edge. The combination of caffeine and sugar was a lot to handle sometimes. A bite was usually more than enough to satisfy me. I'd want more than a bite tonight. Most nights he brought something to eat for all of us to share. He only came after work, and he and Chevelle were allowed about three hours of time together before he had to go back to the rest of the Undesirables.

I found the kit and pointed up. "Cameras, microphones. She's obviously listening." My voice was still low.

He shrugged. "She's going to know you know either way. Own it and stop letting her scare you." He gazed up at one of the cameras. "Yeah, we're on to you witch. What a psycho. Have you talked to Paul?"

"I contacted him. He's going to be stopping by soon after he's done attending to some other business." I sat in my usual chair and grabbed Mops. The poor little monkey. Since the tears were right on the seams, it shouldn't be difficult for me to fix. I threaded my needle, and got to work.

"And you know how to sew stuffed animals, how?" Chevelle asked, entering the room at last. "Lara's down for the night. I don't think she's heard anything either."

Slowly, I nodded, focusing to make sure I was stitching tight enough. "My mom is one of those people who likes everything homemade. To save on money for a while, she sewed my costumes for school plays, Halloween, that kind of thing. Some of them were complicated so she made me help. Most of it I remember from watching her. It's not like it's hard. The only difficult part is the knotting, but I think I can do it. I hope so."

"What happened? Isn't that his favorite? I mean, that's what you told me."

"It wouldn't surprise me if she did it," I grumbled. Just thinking of her punishing Vance by tearing his favorite toy apart had me seething all over again. If I thought about all of the other neglect he suffered, I might end up giving her a taste of her own medicine.

Chevelle let out a soft sigh and rubbed my shoulder. "Do you care if we go out tonight? Or would you rather we stay in and keep you company?"

"Nah, go out, enjoy yourselves. Like I said, I'm meeting with Paul soon. We've got about five million things to talk about. It's probably better if you're not around." I gave her a weak smile.

"Yup, we're getting kicked out for the night," Wicken said and stood. "Come on, beautiful, let's go find something to keep us occupied until curfew."

I stopped listening to them then. For the most part, they were tactful about their relationship. I'd yet to see them in bed, let alone kiss in front of me. Okay, one or two small kisses, but no make-out sessions on the couch. I appreciated it a lot. At the end of the night, I still had to sleep in the bed with her and sit on the couch and so on so forth. I didn't need visual confirmation of the ways the furniture had been broken in.

Assuming they did anything here, of course. I know their first night together happened in our room. It didn't weird me out as much as I thought it would. I likened it to my parents' bed. You know things happen in it, but so long as you don't witness it, it's out of sight, out of mind, and normal. Outside of the one time, I'm positive Wicken and Chevelle had been making use of the various love nests and nooks provided by the Achlivans. The night Lara and I had left Chevelle to mourn in peace, we had stayed in something similar to a hotel up by the Roof. The room had a huge romantic bend to it. A million places for candles, a great view, mood lighting - the works. Places like that were littered throughout the Surface.