Chameleon | ONC 2020

8: Joy

When she woke up in Lilac's bed the next morning, she panicked.

The soft mattress and the duvet over it were suffocating; she had slept like a rock most of the night and hadn't woken even when Lilac got up. The other side of the bed was empty and she hadn't noticed. She always slept lightly. People like her needed to.

She scrambled out of the grip of the covers, breathing hard. She tried to gather her thoughts. What had she done? She had left Coran at the train station and come here, and Lilac had let her in, and...

"Crap," she whispered. Coran would smell it from a mile off.

Her eye caught on something sitting on the bedside table and she snatched up the paper.

Another note for you! Must be getting used to these now, haha. Had to go into work for a last minute appointment but there's bread and eggs in the fridge, help yourself. I'll be back around lunchtime. Hope I'll see you. Xx

Chameleon sat on the edge of the bed, head in one hand and the note in the other. She'd been so fried after the job the previous night it was hard to remember the details. She just knew she'd made a terrible mistake.

She found a dressing gown folded up for her on the end of the bed, with another post-it note lying on top. It only had a smiley face on it, and Chameleon rolled her eyes as she picked it up. The robe was too small and smelled of Lilac, and she hesitated before putting it on, but she'd done enough damage already that anything she did now would make very little difference. Coran was going to burst a vein no matter what.

She had no appetite for breakfast, and felt uncomfortable about eating someone else's food anyway. She only glanced in the fridge before shutting it and making a cup of tea instead. One cup of tea was an expense she could live with. She only wished she didn't owe money for a taxi, coffee and compensation for being a pain in Lilac's arse. Which was another thing baffling her; she didn't know what Lilac Hart was after, or why. She was a terrible prospect for a date – the thought made her cold inside – and Lilac had never explicitly told her what had made her so interested in Chameleon in the first place.

Instead of finding out, though, Chameleon had gone and jumped in the woman's bed, acting like she'd been born yesterday. Nothing ever came free. She knew that better than anyone.

She showered, hoping to disperse the smell of Lilac on her. Werewolf senses were sharp, but surely that wouldn't survive two thorough scrubs in the shower? She had washed twice partly out of caution, and partly because it had been many years since she'd been in a shower that worked properly. Coran didn't see plumbing as a high priority – those of his safe houses that actually had running water mostly ran cold, and half of them didn't contain so much as a sink to wash in.

The front door closed just as she switched off the shower, and she tensed as Lilac's footsteps passed outside. She was humming, clearly much less worried about the events of the previous night than Chameleon.

She got out and scrubbed dry. She entertained a brief, crazy idea that she might escape out the front door while Lilac was in the kitchen, but the thought of jumping on the crowded underground in a too-small dressing gown quickly put that one to rest. Instead she shuffled into the room with her eyes on the floor, hating how warm her face suddenly was, gritting her teeth to face the music.

"Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up," Lilac said. She held out a takeout coffee cup to Chameleon, who stared at it without moving. "I had a call from my receptionist at five in the morning, we just received a very new werewolf. I couldn't put it off. I got this for you."

Chameleon took the coffee, and said somewhat flatly, "Thank you."

Lilac's brows furrowed. "Don't you want it?"