Patient A-3

Chapter 13: Tension

 I awake in an eerily quiet house. After yesterday's intense encounter, I needed some space from Cierien and Wrath. I informed Cierien that they were welcome to stay the night and that I would provide them with an answer tomorrow, which is now upon me. I spent most of yesterday huddled on my couch, battling the decision of whether to flee from this situation or stand my ground. Despite everything, this is my house, and I won't allow Wrath's intimidation to dictate my choices.

 They spent the remainder of that evening confined in the guest room, while I finally gathered my courage to retreat to my space, just across from them. I stayed up for the rest of the night, drifting off around noon earlier today. I appreciate that they didn't bother me after yesterday morning. This silence they've maintained since then is somewhat relieving, but it's also becoming increasingly concerning.

 I let out a languid stretch, grabbing my phone to check the time: 7 p.m. A groan slips through my lips, knowing Wrath will likely expect an answer as soon as I leave the room. I roll out of bed and force myself to stand, slowly trudging my way over to the closet. From within, I retrieve a simple black tank top and oversized cargo pants. Quickly changing, I step into the bathroom to freshen up. After scrubbing my teeth and fixing my hair, I spritz myself with perfume and check myself in the mirror.

 Who am I trying to impress?

 I roll my eyes at my reflection and head toward the door. Taking a deep breath, I ease it open with the utmost care, hoping my movements go unnoticed by the individuals residing across the hall. But as luck would have it, I've never been the type to experience such good fortune.

 Almost in uncanny synchronicity, Wrath emerges from his room, his gaze sweeping down my figure. I refuse to allow his gaze to linger, instead springing into action. I dart down the hallway, my steps hurried and purposeful, focusing on putting distance between us. His presence looms behind me, a dark shadow in pursuit, even though he doesn't seem to be trying very hard to catch up.

 I hurry through the living room and into the kitchen where I know I can find a knife if the situation demands it. Relief surges through me as I discover Cierien perched on a stool at the counter in the midst of an activity I never expected from the man– rolling a joint.

 "Where did you get that?" I blurt out, my concern outweighing my surprise. I silently pray that he hasn't stumbled upon the personal jars I discreetly stashed away in my room.

 "I have my way," he chuckles, his focus returning to the task at hand.

 His tongue peeks out as he deftly stuffs and rolls the joint. He brings it to his mouth, tongue sweeping over the paper as he seals the weed in.

 How can he adeptly roll a joint yet struggle with simple TV remote navigation?

 I cast a glance over my shoulder, confirming that Wrath didn't follow me into the kitchen. I head to the fridge, throwing it open and perusing its contents.

 Ugh, I need to go to the store.

 I groan at the realization, irritation simmering at the inconvenience. Noting the eggs I have, I extract a couple from the fridge and crack them into a heated pan, their sizzle filling the room. My hope is that a well-prepared meal might help improve Wrath's mood, or at the very least, earn me a few brownie points. I told them that I'd provide them with an answer today, and I want him in the best mood possible before we speak. I scramble the eggs, transferring them onto three separate plates and adding a light sprinkling of salt and pepper.

 The sound of Wrath's approaching footsteps echoes in the kitchen. I turn around, holding two plates in my hand, and place one in front of Cierien and the other to his left.