She nearly jumped to her feet when the knock on the door came. She'd lost count of the amount of times she'd opened it to the Motel Manager, or Annie, or neighbours, People that weren't him. Mitchell didn't want to see her, it was obvious. And she wasn't sure she could blame him. Because she was hungry again, hungry all the time. And she wanted the kill. More than anything she wanted to hunt, and kill, and hurt, and feed. Why would he want to see her when he was so changed. So strong.

She pulled open the door, eyes instantly on the ground, sensitive to the sun and she readied herself for disappointment again. But it was him, undeniably him.

"Come in" she tried simply, he looked good, he always looked good.
He'd come to see her.