Honey-Comb [A Dead by Daylight Fic]

Chapter 20

Evan could hear her footsteps through the kitchen ceiling. They were small bouncing steps, much too happy for a world so full of darkness. Like a rabbit she hopped up the steps and slipped into his bedroom. He heard the drawers open and close, the thoughtful pause between each as she sifted about his things for something decent to wear. They'd suffer no more trials for the night, she could relax, and so could he.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pipes rattled and groaned as hot water coursed through chilled veins.

The last time anyone had shared his company was when Susie showed up with Legion. It was a large group, too many for just one killer to take on, so they'd been split. He wasn't happy then and he wasn't happy now. At least Susie was more quiet minded, never nosing her way into anybody's business, a real pretty wallflower.

Honey wasn't like that.

She was obnoxious, loud mouthed, and nosy. Even with the crackle of grease on his pan, or the rain of a hot shower, he could hear her singing along and out of tune to Someone Like You. He tried to be annoyed by it, but it was a strange and unwelcome, welcome. Her presence brought warmth to a very cold realm, made the MacMillan Estate more than just a rotting carcass on the crooked edge of a crooked past. He was here - but she was home.

He grunted.

The Entity would change that. Like peeling a bandaid off, slow and excruciating. Every pinch of pain a reminder to the inevitability of it all.

Why did he hate the sentiment?

Honey wasn't his friend, she was here as a temporary nuisance, he made that very clear. So, why did he hate the idea of watching that light fade within her eyes?

He pulled out a misfit pair of plates and set the table for two: silverware, cups, and a napkin square for each, and reminded himself that none of it mattered. Every soft edge of her personality would be filed down to a deadly point. This Honey was temporary, just as Evan had been before the Trapper.

"Honey!" He called her name, voice carrying with little effort behind its projection as he set slushburgers on each plate.

The pipes rattled in reply.

He sat down and listened to the sound of her footsteps while steam curled around the sesame buns.

A crack ran through his armor, and one small sharp corner fell away.