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"Hey!" she says, grinning at me as she shakes off her jacket. "Where should I put this?"

I extend my arm. "Here, let me take it."

"Oh, such a gentleman."

I roll my eyes and get into the hall, hanging the jacket on one of the metal hangers on the wall. On my way back to her, million and millions of thoughts flashes through my head. What if she can see it as clearly as Aren could? What if she already knows? What if-

"Hey, come down to Planet Earth!" London waves her hands in front of my face and I realize I've reached her.

I laugh easily and take her hand. Just as brushing your teeth, just as putting on your shoes, just as using knife and fork, we're holding hands. Platonically.

Leading her to the kitchen, I tell her about Aren's heroic climbing up the façade, which I still can't quite get how he did. Throughout the story, London's expression gets more and more distressed.

"Really, how much did you hang out?" she says, suddenly.

"Oh, not much, just a few hours" I say, avoiding her gaze.

"Did he propose to you?" London's normal, mischievous glint in the eye is back.

I roll my eyes. "No."

Even though he did try to kiss me.

"Anyways" she says, clapping her hands together. "What've we got? Should we take a trip to the supermarket to get some ingredients?"

"Oh..." I gaze around in the kitchen, realizing I haven't prepared this at all. "Yeah. That'd be good."

"I've just taken my jacket off" London complains, but I know it's not real.

"I'll just..." I make a vague wave of my arm towards the stairs, and she nods.

"Sure."

I thunder up the stair, sliding past the door to my parent's bedroom. Clasping my hands around the wooden doorframe, I drag myself back, peering inside.

"Hi, just wondering whether... er... London and I could get some money for ingredients? We though that we should... er... bake some cookies. You can taste them... afterwards."

Mom continues her writing for a few seconds, then presses a few buttons and looks up at me.

I realize that she has dark blue rings under her eyes, and the eyes are only half-open, like she'd rather be sleeping right now.

"Fine" she says. "I'll... set some money to your bank account."

Her gaze return to the computer, the blue light casting a ghostly glow over her pale face.

"Okay... I'll see you" I say, but I'm not sure she even hears me.

I get back to London, and we put on our gloves and jackets and scarfs and eventually, we set off on our journey to the supermarket.

She insists on dragging her feet against the ground, making a tsunami among the leaves, pushing the giant wave forward.

I think it's quite annoying, but I don't say anything.

"Do you often think about why humans exist?" she says suddenly.

"You've got such philosophic questions, London" I say, and this is true, because I often think about it. "And that's a compliment. I love talking about this kind of stuff with you."

She smiles, the happiness really radiating from her body. "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

We walk in silence for a couple of seconds because London picks up the thread again: