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I don't stay long, just enough to finish my drink and endure Ben's questions about me, none of which I answer. I guess he's a nice enough guy, I just don't want to tell him much about me. Besides, I'll probably never see him again after this.

"I should go," I say after I've finished my drink, "thanks for the drink."

"Why so soon?" he asks, confused.

"I have stuff to do," I say, getting up from the bar.

"Can't argue with that," he smiles, "can I see you again?"

I pause, not sure how to respond to that. I only have an old cell phone that's practically untraceable, and I don't want to give him my number. It's not that I want to avoid him, but I can't afford to get familiar with people or give them any of my details. I don't want to offend him.

"Got a pen?" I ask, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"Yeah," he rummages in a pocket, pulling out a blue ball-point after a few seconds.

"Here's my number," I scribble it down on a serviette, folding it up and passing it to him, "you can call if you want."

Ben takes the paper, giving me a smile as I turn towards the door. I wave, slipping out into the cold evening. I go straight to my motorbike, pulling my helmet down over my head and swinging one leg over the cold leather seat, fishing in my pocket for my keys. I find them, jiggling the key into the slot for it and twisting. The bike roars to a start, and I pull my foot off the ground, revving the engine. I'll never get tired of that sound.

I push my bike into the shed, shoving the door shut after me then head inside. It's not late, and I haven't had any food, so I just grab a can of baked beans from the pantry and eat them straight from the can. At this rate I'll probably die from some kind of baked beans overdose.

Absently, I notice that the cat is sitting on the chair, watching me again. Funny how I didn't notice it coming in after me, that's the only way it possibly could have come inside.

"What do you want?" I ask it, keeping my eyes fixed on its uncannily green ones. It blinks slowly, the dim kitchen light gleaming darkly off its silky fur. Deciding that I'm not about to get an answer, I tip the remaining baked beans into a dish and set it on the bench, telling the cat "for you," before grabbing a t-shirt from the cupboard and going into the bathroom to change.

I strip my clothes onto the floor, pulling the t-shirt over my underpants and squirting toothpaste onto my toothbrush. I scrub my teeth, roughly drag a wet cloth over my face and leave it at that. I pick up my clothes and go back into the main part of the house, shoving them haphazardly into one of the cupboards. I'll fix it tomorrow.

I crawl up into my bed, suddenly tired. Stifling a yawn, I shuffle down under the covers and wriggle until I get comfortable. I feel a warm weight pressing against my hip, and realise that the cat has curled up beside me again. It purrs deeply, the sound vibrating through the duvet into my body. Maybe it can be at least a semi-normal cat.

I sigh, letting my eyes drift close.

I feel like I'm splitting down the middle, grief tearing my heart to shreds. I take a step back from the healer, struggling to draw breath.

"I'm so sorry..." she starts towards me, one hand outstretched.

"H-how?" I choke.

Of Gods and Memories (LokixFemaleReader) [COMPLETED]Where stories live. Discover now