The Universe's Mixer

Enigma sat on the edge of the lake, as close to the water as she dared, her mind a million miles away from her, still in the opera house where rehersal had closed only minutes ago. She had been there until she couldn’t stand it any longer, Erik turning his focus onto Christine and getting her ready for opening night and almost forgetting Enima in his obsession.

She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her face against them, trying to block the emotions raging through her. She wanted to scream, to torment The City in her pain...she wanted to cry.

Raising her head, she looked out at the lake again, shivering in spite of herself, her warning emotions making her sick. She should just give up on her stupid fantasies and move on, return to her life of murder and theft, of causing as much mayhem as she could until some hero came swooping out of the shadows to grab her.

She should walk away from the dreams of an idyllic life of going straight and falling in love. They were the stupid wishes of a stupid child.

Tears slowly fell down her cheeks as he hugged her legs tighter, falling against the blanket she had wrapped around her, staining the velvet. She gave into them and started to sob, memories of Christine and Erik so close together tormenting her as she buried her face in her knees again.

The entire day felt like a weight. Once the books were properly shelved, the rest of her hours at work stretched impossibly long. Errol was up in front, researching something... a topic too familiar for her tastes. Honour retreated to the rare books room - which was as far away from the front of the store as she could get - and spent the rest of the day pacing or restlessly changing positions in one of the bookstore's upholstered chairs. There'd been only one chime from the door, and she'd avoided coming out for that. She tried reading, but ended up going over the same two paragraphs again and again. Nothing was sticking, and she couldn't get her thoughts straight.

Something gnawed at her ruthlessly, and she was doing her best to hide it -- or at least hide away until she mastered it. When it came time for the end of her shift, Honour uncharacteristically rushed through closing duties and hurried out the door with hardly a word to her colleague. It shouldn't have been so difficult to be around him, she reflected, but she'd stopped meeting his eyes when they happened on her.

The warm early evening felt like a blanket around her. She hurried home and went to the room that felt the most comforting - her new library. Again, nothing seemed to take her mind off things; nothing helped at all. It was useless, all these attempts to distract herself. But maybe...

30 minutes later, Honour knocked on the beautiful doors of a friend. Over one arm she carried a basket filled to the brim with apples and carrots. When she dropped her hand to her side again, she tried plastering on a smile, but it felt so awful that she let it slide almost immediately.