somewhere only we know || grayson hawthorne x oc

chapter eight (libby)

It was Monday. Monday meant school. Well, Monday meant school for all the minors in the mansion. Therefore, Nash, Grayson, and Libby were not included in that statement. For once, Nash had found some way to occupy himself, meaning Libby could finally have the kitchen all to herself. She was a stress-baker, and since she was very stressed, she had baked a lot.

She had just started on another batter when she heard the unmistakeable sound of heels on marble. Her head snapped up to find the face of someone who was equally as shocked to see her. They both held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity of uncomfortable silence when the stranger spoke. "Hello."

"Hi."

"Sorry, I hadn't realised anyone was in here. I'll come back later." Then it clicked in Libby's brain: this was the other stranger that had been in the will. Isabel. That was her name.

"No, don't worry. Come in. You kinda own this place, anyway. Who am I to keep you out?" She smiled, and the other girl smiled, too. It was the barest hint of one, but it was a smile all the same.

Isabel walked hesitantly into the room, seemingly uncomfortable at the idea of human interaction. "God, I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"I don't blame you. It's a big thing to grasp. Isabel, right?"

"Oh, please. Call me Izzy. We're living together for a year; we should drop the formalities. I mean, I'm assuming you're Avery's sister?"

"Yup. Libby. Nice to make your acquaintance. You wanna help?"

"Sure. Why not? Nothing better to do, anyways."

And so they baked together. After making some awkward conversation to begin with, they learnt about each other. She found out that Izzy was 18, her birthday was on January 13th, she was a dog person, and she was an archer. For a moment, when they were talking, everything seemed almost, normal. She didn't blame Avery for the fact that she was busy all the time, but it had gotten quite lonely over the last couple of days. She was used to talking and interacting with people, not basically being on house arrest, no matter how big that House may be. And, she noticed, it had almost been as if Izzy's formal way of speaking had fallen away the more they talked.

Once Izzy had left to go to the Foundation for some sort of meeting, Libby found comfort in the thought that she might just make a friend here after all.