Lily nodded toward the open door. "It's ... doors," she said. She wasn't very inclined to admit to these issues, as if she should somehow be ashamed she couldn't handle the fear that (she assumed) they'd planted in her. "Woke up this morning, and I find them very frightening." Her tone was frank, though her voice belied a tension that reflected the fear.
"You're not ... you haven't ... stumbled across anything you're afraid of, have you?" She hoped not; she really disliked when the younger set were victimized. She could handle it (she thought), but they had no need to.
Emerald eyes flicked to the fridge door, and the fear only increased. She took a couple more steps back, swallowing the whimper that threatened when she bumped into the counter. She wanted Balthazar here, and she realized with sudden, painful clarity just how many doors were between him and her just then.