Zania Castell (brokendoll) wrote in the_dome, @ 2013-05-08 22:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | 03-28-2017, mickey, mickey and zania, zania |
Blood for Breakfast
Who: Mickey and Zania
Where: Mickey’s place
When: Morning
Warnings: Language
Waking up had been a little jarring for Mickey. He was used to waking up early, but what he hadn’t expected was the warm mass that was Zania snuggled against his chest, hands gripping his shirt in her sleep. That was new. Or newish. It really had been a long time since anyone was this close to him. And while his normal pull would be to get up and move, he found himself not quite able to move away from her, and wound up laying there awake, trying to stay still while he waited for her to stir.
Zania had been sleeping soundly, until a noise woke her, a change in her environment. The slow and steady thump that she’d been listening to sped up just slightly and the difference was enough to start the waking process. She was warm, so warm that she didn’t want to move, but she was also hungry. She snuggled closer to the body beside her before she realized that’s what it was, and that woke her completely. Slowly, she opened her eyes, then tilted her head up to look at Mickey and see if he was awake.
Her snuggling closer had Mickey freezing at little, but then she was looking up at him and he smiled softly, something small but there. “Hey,” he said, not sure what else to say. He really was bad at this wasn’t he?
“Morning,” she answered with a little smile as she pulled away, one hand brushing up to smooth out her dreadlocks. That was the nice thing about them-- they couldn’t get much messier than they already were. “Warned you I was a snuggler.”
He actually felt weird with her pulling away like that, half wishing she hadn’t. “I wasn’t complaining was I?” he asked smirking again. It wasn’t bad. It was nice, even if he barely knew her, but it was good to feel something close to a connection to someone.
Zania stretched, her arms in the air, her toes pointed, then collapsed back into the bed, cuddling back against him once more. He’d given her the go-ahead, so she might as well. It was nice. She’d missed this. “No, you weren’t. But I wasn’t sure if you were uncomfortable. Though I guess you could have snuck out of bed.”
That she wound up back next to him was interesting. Mickey had no idea what it meant, which was crazy. He should have an idea, shouldn’t he? “I would have snuck out of bed, but you were latched on pretty tight.” He was teasing her. Something he really hadn’t done in a long time.
“Sorry,” she grinned, clearly not sorry at all. “You’re like a big teddy bear. All nice and warm. Though you’d be forgiven for deserting me if you made coffee.” Which sounded delicious, even if it didn’t quite go with apple pie. Maybe if she added some cream and honey, sugar if he had it.
“Liar,” Mickey accused, but didn’t make a move to leave. Damnit this was kind of nice. No, not kind of nice, it was really nice and a big part of him wanted to stay right where he was. “Did you just try and guilt trip me into making you coffee?”
“Maaaaybe,” Zania answered with a smile. “But making coffee is easy and making apple pie is not. You’ve got to give me something to get me going. Did you have something else in mind?”
“Maybe I did. I was rather enjoying staying right here,” Mickey said, rolling slightly which put him a touch more over her than next to her. That was instinct, nothing entirely intentional, but he was distantly aware of the fact that he was flirting with her. Maybe. Probably.
Her smile softened, but remained playful as her hand slid up his chest and gripped his t-shirt. “I think I could be persuaded to skip the coffee,” Zania said, not entirely sure what he would do here. It had been a long time since she’d been in a position like this, and she wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. Unlike last night, her head was clear now, though she couldn’t say she minded it.
The problem became the part where Mickey wasn’t sure what he was doing there either. There were logical next steps, he wasn’t stupid, but faced with them, he found himself faltering a little. He’d pushed against his own boundaries and he could hear December’s voice in his head saying something about it being time, and now he was stuck in a new spot that he didn’t quite have an answer for. “I’m pretty sure I’m not that good,” he said, slightly more awkward than he’d been a minute before, leaning back as much as her grip on him would let her. “I might have to just give in and make coffee.”
Her smile faded as her own insecurities kicked in, not sure what she’d done to make him back off, and also wondering if that was a good thing or not. She didn’t like the feel of it, that was certain. It felt like rejection. “Better be some damn good coffee,” she said, finding it easier to tease than ask what had happened. “I’m pretty sure you just rated it above yourself,” she smiled, releasing him.
When she let go of him, he didn’t move further away. “Well...I’m pretty sure I’m not that good. It’s been a while.” He wasn’t moving away yet. He knew he should, but he really wasn’t very good at it. Which kept them in kind of an awkward limbo space. Sitting up more he ran his hand through his hair. “If it’s not good enough though, you can give me another spin.”
“I think you’re overestimating the amount I’d give in replacement for coffee,” she laughed, propping her head up on her hand. She might be easy to get in bed, but that didn’t mean she’d give anything away once there. Zania rolled out of bed the other direction, then stretched her hands to the sky and behind her head. “Don’t talk yourself down, sweetheart. It’s not cute,” she smiled. “Can I use your bathroom?”
“I think you’re overestimating my expectations,” he said tilting his head to watch her as she stretched. “I’ll work harder on cute,” he said, though he sounded distracted at the sight of her. “Um sure. Whatever you want.”
Maybe he was right and she was overestimating his expectations. It was hard to tell when he’d decided not to go for anything at all. “Maybe. But now you’ll be left wondering, won’t you?” she teased, then walked over to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. Why don’t you get that coffee started?” In the meantime, maybe she could find some toothpaste as well.
Mickey watched her go, half shaking his head. Once she left he pulled off the undershirt he had on, replacing it with something cleaner and sleeveless. He took the suggestion, heading to the kitchen to start coffee, setting it up and turning on the maker he’d fixed long ago. Then he set to work on the apples, pulling them out of the bath they’d been left in, laying them out on a towel on the counter.
When Zania emerged from the bathroom, she felt significantly better, having washed her face and brushed her teeth with her finger, then attempted to smooth her hair into place. She found Mickey in the kitchen, the coffee started, and apples fresh on the counter. “Thanks for pulling them out. Want to help me peel them?” she asked, picking one up.
Mickey had that ghost of a smile back again at the sight of her. He had a pair of knives out for her when she asked, handing her one and picking up an apple to work on. “I figured since you said this is the hardest part. And the coffee is still brewing.”
“Great,” she smiled, picking up one of the knives. She couldn’t wait till the pie was ready. She was starving. “So, what do you normally have for breakfast, when it’s not going to be delicious apple pie?”
“Normally?” Mickey said setting into this work. “There’s toast. Eggs sometimes. I get paid in goods sometimes rather than credits, so I usually do alright food wise.” Whatever people were willing to give. If they needed credits for something else but could spare some food, he’d take that without hesitation. “Did you want something?”
“No, I was just curious how Mickey lives,” she said. Everyone was a little bit different. Some people skipped breakfast, others ate a piece of fruit. Zania would have loved bacon, but that was something she saved for special occasions. Toast and jam was her every day staple, unless there was pie. Pie always won out. “Why’re you so down on yourself?” she asked, peaking up at him as she began to peel an apple. “I’m not that big a bitch to let you get that close and then turn you away.”
"Very plainly," Mickey admitted with a weak attempt at a smile. He didn't do much that boiled down to exciting and he was often on his own. His fingers slipped for a moment at her question, but he managed to catch them before hurting himself. "Not sure. Probably the dry spell. Maybe the limp." He didn't feel as useful as he'd been. December floated into his mind, but he pushed it away. She wasn't a reason for him being so down on himself. Hesitant to let his eyes wander, yes, but not that. "Not turning me down and wanting something are completely different."
“Don’t let the limp impair anything other than your ability to walk or run,” Zania said with a little smirk. “I’m sure you’d be just fine in bed, unless you were considering something acrobatic.” Not that she was asking for it, but really? This was something she was pretty sure he could manage. “That’s true enough. I... don’t know what I want. Do you?” She could be fickle when it came to boys, just like she was with everything else. Mickey seemed like a good enough guy, but she barely knew him. He wouldn’t have gotten any more than a kiss out of her now that she was sober.
Mickey felt his cheeks heat up, but he stayed focused on the apple in his hand, working the skin off in a neat spiral, hair hopefully hiding most of the blush. “I guess I think about...Darwin and all.” Not that his limp was a birth defect, just an injury that hadn’t healed right. “That’s a ringing endorsement.” Though his answer wasn’t much better. “I guess I don’t know what I want either.”
She liked the color that put in his cheeks, even if she’d embarrassed him to get there. Zania didn’t mean any harm in it. She was just speaking her mind. “What? Survival of the fittest? You made it this long, so I think you qualify, no matter what you had to do to get here.” He might not win a foot race, but she had the feeling he was smart enough to know what needed to be done if there were zombies. That was what counted. “We’d barely talked till last night. If my response was much stronger, then you’d need to worry. I might be creepy, stalker diner girl instead.”
“I had to try and separate my calf from my thigh to get here,” Mickey said. He might have wound up in a dome if he hadn’t gotten hurt, but that was the main part of the motivation. It was better than being unable to run. He’d learned to use the rest of himself though. He was strong enough without it. “I could probably work with creepy stalker diner girl,” Mickey said, humor in his voice. He finished one apple and reached for another.
“Ow!” Zania said in sympathy, her eyes wide. She didn’t know exactly how he’d hurt his leg, but she imagined it was bad based on the limp. She also had the feeling she’d have been zombie food once it happened, if it had been her. “Give me a few drinks and we’ll see if I can’t manage some kind of a transformation,” she teased, finishing off an apple as well. At this rate, they were going to get pie much sooner than expected.
Mickey nodded. It had hurt like hell. And he’d considered just giving up, but even in the pain that wasn’t like him. “What kind of transformation?” he asked, glancing over at her.
“Into creepy, stalker diner girl!” she said. “Isn’t that the girl you said you could work with?” Zania was more likely to believe in love at first sight when she was drunk, then wonder what the hell she’d been thinking afterwards. She was glad she hadn’t done anything crazy with Mickey because he seemed like a great guy, the kind she’d really like to get to know, and not through some drunken one night stand.
“Well, I could work with the other one too,” Mickey said smirking a little as he looked at her. Only he’d stopped looking at his hand and missed the angle of the apple, catching his thumb with the knife. It wasn’t terribly deep, but it was enough to get a hiss out of him as he dropped the apple and blood bubbled up along the cut. “Damn.”
Zania was about to say something smart when Mickey cut himself and she lost focus completely, eyes locked on the sight of his bleeding thumb. She could smell it in the air, though it wasn’t the coppery scent she was used to. This was something else, far sweeter and more alluring. “Shit,” she said, setting down her apple as she moved a step closer to grab hold of his hand. “You should probably rinse that.” Except she didn’t drag him to the sink. Instead, she pulled his thumb to her mouth and began to suck, her eyes shutting as the taste hit her tongue.
Mickey was going to and then she had him and his thumb in her mouth and he was left staring at her. After a second or two his wits came back and he managed to jerk his hand away from her, staring at her like she was insane. “Okay...what the fuck was that.” The knife was still in his hand, grip changing just slightly.
Jerking his hand away pulled Zania back to reality with a snap, shock in her eyes, followed by confusion. What the hell was she doing? Zania just stared at him, unable to come up with an explanation until suddenly her mouth hurt like nothing else in the world. She gave a short shout of pain, covering her mouth, then ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Her gums were bleeding, her mouth full of blood, which she spit in the sink. When she looked up in the mirror, all she could do was stare. There was nothing there.
Something was lots of wrong. Really wrong. When she ran out of the room, Mickey didn’t follow right away. What he did first was rinse his hand and hope to fucking god he wasn’t infected with something and wrap a spare towel around it to stop the bleeding. Then he changed one knife out for another and followed after her, knocking on the door, but he stayed ready. “Zania?”
Zania jumped when he knocked on the door, then quickly locked it before backing away. “I’m sorry!” she called out, frantically looking for a way out of the bathroom. There was none. Not even a little window to crawl out, like that woman in The Shining. Hopefully Mickey wouldn’t grab an axe. “I don’t know what came over me!”
He wasn’t going to hurt her, but he did want to know what was going on. Especially when he heard the lock click into place. Not that he couldn’t handle the lock, already reaching over the door for where he kept the allen wrench that unlocked it. “What’s going on?”
“I-- I don’t know,” she said, pressing her thumb against her canine tooth. It was so sharp she almost cut herself and longer than it had been a few minutes ago. She had no explanation for it and it was causing her to panic. “Something’s wrong with me!”
That was all Mickey needed, popping the lock on the door and letting himself into the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern rising first, but the blood in his sink and the look on her face was enough for him to gather enough of it.
The door opened and Zania pressed herself back against the wall as she eyed the knife. “Are you gonna stab me?” she shouted, her fangs visible as she spoke. Yes, she’d done something weird, but it didn’t warrant him killing her!
Mickey wasn’t really thinking about the knife. He was looking at her teeth, frowning hard. “No,” he said after a moment, when her question finally registered. Moving a few steps forward, which pretty much had him crossing the room, he tilted her chin up to look at her. “What the fuck?”
“Please put the knife down,” she said, her voice shrill as he got himself a look at the monstrosity that had become her teeth. “I don’t know what happened! I just-- there was blood and-- What’s wrong with me?” Surely he knew more than her. If she had to guess, she’d say she was a vampire, but that sounded too absurd to say aloud.
Mickey still had his eyes on her but he eventually put the knife on a shelf well out of her reach if only to calm her down. His own answer for what happened was the same and it seemed ridiculous. “Did they just...change?” he said eyes narrowing on her teeth before finally looking at the girl. “I don’t...I don’t know.”
She felt better now that the knife was no longer in his hand, but it was concerning that he’d picked it up in the first place. “Yes! It hurt!” Zania said, her fear forcing honesty out of her. “This has never happened before, I swear. I didn’t mean to-- to do that. I’m sorry.” Oh God, what was she going to do about this? He must think she’d gone crazy.
Mickey really should have been more upset, but her panicking wasn’t helping anything and he wound up just brushing fingers along her hairline. “Shh, shh. Deep breaths.” He was sure she was crazy, or something truly fucked up and weird was going on, or he was the butt of the worst joke ever, but he wasn’t going to find out with her freaking out.
Zania took deep breaths as he instructed, but that felt like she was hyperventilating, so instead she decided to hold it. His hands were soothing, even though she could feel tears coming to her eyes. What had happened to her? And how? She had so many questions and absolutely no one to ask them to. Eventually, she began to calm, still holding her breath, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
“There you go,” Mickey said as she started to calm. “Tell me slowly, what’s going on? We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I really don’t know,” she said, forcing herself to breathe slowly, to give him a calm response. “You cut yourself. And I was worried. And I was going to suggest washing it. And I-- I don’t know what came over me. And then my mouth hurt, and there was blood, and now I have fangs!” her voice rose with each word till she could hear the panic flood back in. It was hard not to freak out. This seemed like an occasion where it was perfectly reasonable to do so!
Mickey was back to trying to shush her, just to keep her calm, hand against her cheek. “Okay. Fangs are...fuck, okay, it’s weird. But we can maybe work with weird.” He needed December pronto, but given how early it was that was a whole host of other crap he didn’t want to explain. “Are you sure nothing like this has ever happened?”
“I would remember if I’d had fangs before,” she said, her attitude kicking back in at that question. Did he think she was stupid or crazy? This wasn’t something she could explain away. Zania shut her mouth and looked back at him, feeling her teeth with her tongue... and then suddenly they slid back up. Still sharp, but nowhere near as long. “I think they’re gone,” she whispered.
That made Mickey frown more. “Gone? Just..gone?” How was that not weird as fuck? He found himself needing to sit down, which meant he was moving towards the edge of the tub, dropping there and looking up at her.
“Gone,” she said and pulled her top lip up to show him where her fangs had been just moments before. They were gone, though her canine teeth felt sharper still. Zania couldn’t decide if that made her feel better or worse. She looked at Mickey, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Have you ever heard of anything like this happening outside of a movie or book?”
Mickey was just staring at her, hand in his hair as if he’d started pulling it through it but then stopped halfway. “No. But then I’d only heard of zombies in movies and now I’m reconsidering that position, so what do I know?” He stared at her, then held a hand out to her. “Are you okay? You feel okay?”
Zania stared back at him, then slowly decided to take his hand with her bandaged one. His touch was comforting, warm, and made her feel grounded. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to stab her. “I feel okay. Hungry,” she said, then quickly added. “But we haven’t had breakfast and I drank a lot last night.”
MIckey wasn’t thinking about it at first, but once she handed him the hand with the bandage on it, he found himself undoing it, wanting to see what was underneath. “Anything else? Your fingers are cold.”
“They don’t feel cold,” she said, concern growing as he unwrapped the bandage. “I feel like maybe my ears are ringing? Like, the opposite of stuffy. Everything’s loud.” That was the only way she knew to put it, though normal sounds didn’t sound much louder than normal. It was the other sounds, the things she didn’t thinks he was supposed to be able to hear.
Mickey pulled the last of the bandage away, looking at her hand. “They just feel cooler than usual. And okay everything’s louder. That’s different too right?”
There was a little scar where the bat had bitten her, but it looked old and faded, not puffy and red as it had the night before. “Yeah,” she said hesitantly. “But compared to the growth of fangs that seems like nothing.”
Mickey ran his thumb over the mark with a frown. “This...looks healed.” His eyes ticked back up to her, confusion getting worse. “Zan...I...I’m starting to get worried.”
She took a deep breath, then focused her attention on the mirror behind him. It was still wrong, not some trick her eyes were playing on her. “Mickey... look in the mirror,” she said softly, glancing from him to his reflection. As far as she could tell, she wasn’t even there.
He turned, looking at it and seeing himself, not sure what he was missing at first. “What about it...” he started to ask then trailed off, realizing she wasn’t in it. She should be, right there next to him. “You aren’t...” He spun back around quickly as if she might not be there, playing some sort of joke, but there she was.
It was kind of mesmerizing, looking into a reflective surface and not seeing herself in it. It messed her with brain, which knew by instinct that she should be there. Zania moved closer and put her hands on the glass. “This is so fucking freaky,” she said, eyes wide before she turned back to him. “How the hell am I gonna do my hair and makeup?”
Mickey made a face, not sure why that was what came to mind first. “Do you even do your hair with it like that?” he asked before shaking his head at himself. He needed to focus since obviously she couldn’t. “Look, maybe we should get you to the doctor or something.”
“Kind of,” she argued. “I dye it darker red sometimes. And I put it up.” It was hard to argue how much styling she did with her hair in dreadlocks. Mention of a doctor diverted her attention. “Absolutely not! They’ll think I’m a freak! Some kind of medical mystery! The last thing I need is them sticking me with needles, trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.”
“I think I do more with mine,” Mickey pointed out, not quite sure why they were arguing about this, but it felt important. “So you’d rather just not know? What if something’s going around? Or...you’re a freaking vampire or something? Shouldn’t someone...know?”
“Are you saying you don’t like my hair?” Zania frowned. Dreadlocks had been easy while they were fighting zombies, but maybe she should cut it and let it go straight. She was having a hard time focusing. “If I am a vampire, why would I want anyone to know? That’s like saying, ‘Hey! Look! New monster in the world! Come kill me!’”
“How did you get that out of what I said? I wasn’t saying that at all. I mean it’s different and weird, but it’s not bad.” His only other friend had a corset piercing up her back, which he wasn’t even phased by anymore. Actually he’d caught himself staring at it. Who was Mickey to judge someone? “Well, what the hell else are we going to do?”
“I dunno,” she pouted. “I know it’s not all that typical, but I’ve gotten used to it. Plus, I’d have to cut it all off to get it back to normal, and I’m not sure I’m willing to do that.” This probably wasn’t the time to be worrying about her hair. “We don’t have to do anything,” she pointed out. “The fangs went away. Maybe they’ll stay gone. It’s not like I bit you or anything. Can’t we just go bake apple pie?”
“Don’t make that face. Not long ago I was threatening to kiss you and now you’re upset with me because I might not like your hair. Which is not the case.” Mickey frowned more. “I highly doubt they’ll stay gone since you still don’t have a reflection. And no you didn’t bite me, but how do I know you won’t?”
“But you didn’t,” she said, eyes getting wider as a realization hit her. “And now you might never because I have fangs.” Good God, this was going to ruin her life. “Isn’t my word enough? I slept with you all night and felt no need to bite you then. Why do you think that’s changed?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to ever,” Mickey said not even sure why he was saying that considering she was right, she did have fangs and not too long ago she’d tried to suck his blood, but yeah, maybe it had been that long and he might still kiss her. “Were you bitey then? I don’t know, where you almost bit me earlier?”
“All bitey? You mean, did I have fangs?” she asked. “I don’t think so. They only came out after I sucked on your thumb.” She could feel herself blushing, if that was even still possible. Zania glanced in the mirror to find out, then remembered she couldn’t see herself. “It was mostly the blood. I saw it and I could smell it and...” She shrugged, frustrated by her lack of reasonable explanation. “I have no desire to bite you, Mickey. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“Now I’m wishing that had been some sort of sex thing,” Mickey said, making a face as first but eventually he broke into a sigh. “I know you wouldn’t. Sorry. I’m used to fearing for my life remember?”
“I’m sure for some people it is,” she said, then made a face of her own. “I hope it’s not now. That would be weird.” She also figured she’d have to have sex to figure that out. “I know. Me too. I’m just not used to being the threat.”
Mickey sighed and reached for her again, hand on her cheek, trying to be soothing. “I’m sorry. I know. I just...maybe we get something to eat and think on this more. Because if you are...well you aren’t going outside any time soon.”
This time she noticed how warm his hand was and felt herself leaning into his touch. It was scary to think she wasn’t warm anymore, that she wasn’t human anymore, but she didn’t have any other proof than fangs and a lack of reflection. It was the last that was creepier, even if it didn’t affect her physically, because there was no other explanation for it. “You think the sun will be a problem?” she asked, realizing he was probably right. “Let’s... go work on that pie. And think.”
The last thing that should have been on his mind was how nice her leaning into his hand like that was, but he couldn’t help it. “If everything else is...” he said shrugging one shoulder. “And yeah. Pie...and thinking.” Like just what the hell they were going to do.
Zania closed her eyes and took a deep breath, gathering the courage to move forward with whatever was happening to her. It wasn’t like she could go back if she didn’t know what set it off. “Okay. To the kitchen,” she said with a nod. “And we can test this sunlight theory. I hope you’re wrong, cause otherwise this is going to get tricky.”
Tricky like an entire day of her here. Which wasn't bad but that was a little fast wasn't it? Or did the circumstances no longer apply if she might be a vampire? Did it make it more suicidal on his part that he was reaching for her hand, trying to be comforting as he led her out of the bathroom.
She hadn’t intended to stay the whole day, but if she couldn’t go outside, she was kind of stuck. While she was content to hang out at his place all day, Zania seriously doubted he’d like that. But maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed. She took his hand and offered him a small smile as they headed towards the kitchen. “So, what do you know about vampires and sunlight? There’s lots of different lore, but it can’t all be correct, since I was bitten by a bat, not a vampire.”
"I haven't seen a Twilight movie if that's what you're asking," Mickey said. "Honestly I never got the vampire thing. I don't think I've ever seen a vampire movie. Didn't the vampires on Buffy catch fire?" He hadn't watched that one either, but his sister had. Once back in the kitchen he nodded towards the back door with light flitting in the window. "You want to try?"
“Well, you knew enough to know what the fangs meant, and that sunlight might be a problem. I hope I can still eat garlic,” Zania said. “I think the vamps on Buffy caught fire. Or maybe I’m thinking of Interview with a Vampire. Or True Blood.” She was far better at remembering the tv shows, since books weren’t really her thing. Releasing his hand, she moved closer to the back door. “So, I guess we can rule out the whole ‘must sleep at night’ thing, cause I’m awake. Let’s see what sunlight does.” Slowly she moved her hand into the sun. “That’s not so-- ow!” she shouted, pulling her hand back as the pain hit her. “Okay! It burns!”
“I didn’t live under a rock,” Mickey said shaking his head, watching her as she moved towards the sun. “You did sleep all night so there might have been that,” he said said. He was anxious something bad would happen and when she jerked her hand back he was there, pulling it further away, looking at it. “C’mere,” he said, moving her towards the sink to turn on the cold water and put her hand under it.
Her hand was bright red, like she’d been out in the sun for hours or possibly dipped it in boiling water. She didn’t even want to know what would happen if she’d left it a few more seconds. Would it have charred completely? Or caught fire? “This is ridiculous!” she whined as he hurried her over to the sink. “It’s not even a real sun out there!” Yet, it had still burned her, just as he predicted. She hissed as he ran water over it, then sighed. It felt significantly better and seconds later the skin had healed. “How am I supposed to get anywhere? Do you think an umbrella would work? Or would that be a dead giveaway?”
Mickey was still staring at her hand and the way the skin had mostly healed over. That was just ridiculous. The kind of ridiculous he had a hard time wrapping his mind around. “Huh?” he asked, not quite hearing her question at first. “Oh um. Maybe yeah? I don’t know.” He pulled her hand out of the water, still holding it confused. “I don’t...I guess you really should just stay in though, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, studying her hand. The healing rate was fascinating. If she had a higher pain threshold, she might have been willing to see what else would heal. “I just thought you might want me out of your hair. But then, if I leave, what if I can’t get back in? Don’t vampires have to be invited in?” By being inside when she changed, maybe she’d circumvented that process. It was worrisome considering she didn’t officially have a home at the moment.
“You aren’t really in my hair. I just know I’m not...well great company.” He was quiet, and most of his days were spent either around the dome fixing things or fixing things in his house. And they were activities mostly spent alone. “You say that like I won’t invite you in again.” Which again Mickey was thinking might be suicidal, but he couldn’t see himself not inviting her in. Suicidal or not.
“I think you’ve been great company,” she told him. “Except for the part where you brought a knife with you to check on me. Kind of contractive.” While she was teasing, she also realized that this was why she shouldn’t go out and tell people what had happened. Instinct was to protect yourself and people were used to their friends and loved ones becoming dangerous creatures that needed to be taken down. “Thanks. I know I’ve been kind of creepy, but I would really never hurt you. Ever.”
“Right, that was...that was an old habit.” To be afraid of something strange and not walk into the room unarmed was something he picked up with the zombies. Maybe an overreaction, but if she’d come at his face? Then at least he was prepared. He listened to her say that and found himself nodding, brushing at the same spot on her hairline. “I believe you.”
“I understand. I’m just glad you didn’t decide to use it on me,” she teased. It might not have killed her, but she wasn’t looking to find out. Zania was relieved that Mickey was no longer treating her any different than he had before, despite finding out that she might want to suck his blood. His touch was gentle and she found herself leaning into it, eyes closing momentarily. “Thanks,” she said softly. “Thanks again.”
“Didn’t see a need,” Mickey concluded, since she hadn’t wound up seeming like a threat to himself. Then she was leaning into his hand again and he really was sure he’d lost his mind. Sure, he’d gotten past the vampire thing, but that was more because it didn’t seem real, not anything else. Maybe in a few hours it would set in more and he might properly freak out, or maybe he wouldn’t. What was screaming somewhere in the back of his mind was that this was a bad idea, but it didn’t make him pull his hand away from her, or keep him from smirking as his thumb grazed her cheekbone. “No problem. Not even sure what I did.”
Whens she’d first met Mickey, Zania thought she had to make up for his quiet, but now she was appreciating it. It was almost as if she could listen to it rather than her own mind and it was far more peaceful. “You believed me,” she said with a small smile. “Even when I know I sound crazy. I feel crazy, but... I still feel like me.” There’d been a physical transformation, but nothing emotional, not that she could tell. Even if they hadn’t known each other long, it meant so much that he still saw her as her.
Micky found a smile. “I don’t know if my head it around it just yet,” he admitted. “But feeling like you is good.” It was a start for sure. And it made him feel a little better that he hadn’t stopped touching her, thumb still near her cheek.
Something about this moment made Zania feel so still and calm. She could stay there with his hand lightly brushing her face. She didn’t want to move. Even though they’d both said they didn’t know what they wanted, Zania knew she wanted to be around him, to enjoy his presence and these little touches. Maybe it would lead them somewhere, but she’d just have to wait and see.