I tossed my clothes in the washer and wrapped the blanket closer around me, barely catching it before it fell too far. I was damn near out of clothes and damn near naked in a laundromat. Not that I really cared; it’s not like it was abnormal in this part of town for people to go around half dressed and bloody. I fit right in.

I turned on the machine and turned up the music in my ears, tucking my phone into the waistband of my underwear--sure as hell wasn’t taking that off in public--and pushing myself up to sit on the top of the washer. It was almost dark, and curfew was within the hour, but I didn’t care. It just meant there were fewer people around.

My hand found its way to my hair, and I smiled at the memory of my last shower. I may have snuck into someone’s house and stolen a jacket or two and been incapable of resisting the urge to be clean. It was magic, and I regretted nothing.

Granted, right after the shower, I had to put my blood-stained clothes back on.

And that’s why I was doing what felt like very domestic things: sitting on a washing machine doing some long overdue laundry and finally taking the time to listen to that playlist Toka had made me. Maybe I’d even go shopping and buy actual food. Pay for it too.

I shook my head a little, smiling at the thought of buying anything. I didn’t have the money to do things like that. Every penny I owned--or stole--went straight to people like Toka who were working with me secretly to fight the stupid fuckers in the government.

Or to getting pretty albino girls out of trouble, said the voice in my head, a smirk on its nonexistent face. I guess it was my voice, but my mind was made of two warring creatures who tended to argue a lot. I liked to consider them separate entities, but really they were both me.

A doctor would probably tell me I had split personality disorder or something. I doubt they’d react well if I told them I was simply demon spawn and everything was totally normal. In their defence, people like me tended to go crazy pretty early on. If I wasn’t me, I would be afraid too.

But since I was me, I just told myself to shut up and continued listening to Toka’s playlist. I do, after all, have control over myself. Mostly.

I didn't always bother to execute said control, but it was there.

I had hopped off the washer and begun to move my clothes to a dryer when I heard the bell on the door ring. The lady behind the counter greated whoever it was, and I wouldn't have paid them any heed had it not been so late.

Absently, I glanced over and immediately did a double take when I saw white hair. She’d tried to hide it beneath a hat, but it was much too long for that. I smiled, shaking my head and closing the dryer door.

What were the chances?

Pretty fucking slim if I do say so myself.

Much like her, piped the voice in my head.

“Raven,” the worker greeted. “I assume you have a way to get home today?”

I turned down my music and sat down on the concrete floor, my back absorbing warmth from the dryer behind me. Might as well be comfortable while I eavesdropped.

“Don’t worry,” Raven said. “The guards won't sweep this street until almost midnight. I’ll be fine. Thanks for letting me come so late.”

I couldn’t help but be a little amazed that a seemingly normal girl knew the guard routes well enough to risk getting caught past curfew. Even I hardly bothered to learn them unless I needed something specific, and I almost exclusively traveled at night.

“Well I know what the sun does to you. I’m happy to help.” I glanced over to see a smile on both of their faces, but Raven’s came across as rather forced. It was almost cute, like she was trying too hard.

“Thanks,” Raven said, taking a step toward the nearest machine in an attempt to end the conversation. I leaned my head against the warm door behind me and closed my eyes, just in case she looked over and saw me watching. “I don’t want to keep you up too late, so I should get started.”

“Oh don’t you worry about that, honey,” the woman dismissed, evidently not clear on social cues. “You’re not the only one here.”

I opened my eyes at that, catching Raven’s wandering gaze and smirking at her when she found mine. She froze.

“You,” she whispered, not that I could hear her. My hearing was good, but not so good that I could hear her whisper over multiple machines and the loud punk music pulsing through my earbuds.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said, pulling an earbud out. She frowned, looking from me to the lady behind the counter and back again, saying nothing. I thought she was simply going to ignore me, so I leaned back against the dryer, barely bothering to fight sleep. The only things that kept me awake were habit and the knowledge that I was in my underwear.

But then she sat down next to me, stole an earbud, and made me wonder when the hell this girl decided she was comfortable enough with me to get so damn close.

Needless to say, I was not great with physical contact. I dealt with it, and I understood the concept of it, but I hardly ever felt the desire to initiate or be a part of it. I was raised like a monster, and monsters didn’t bother with the comfort of another.

Even so, I didn’t bother to shift away or reclaim my headphones, I simply waited until she decided to speak up.

Her first words had me rolling my eyes and turning to glare at her. “Do you always go around in your underwear late at night?”

“Only when I run into pretty girls.” I shot back.

She brushed off the compliment like it was nothing. “So you’re stalking me?”

I scoffed. “I could ask that very question of you, thief.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she whispered harshly, “Don’t say that so loud. The lady here likes me.”

I hummed. “It felt like pity to me.”

“Fuck off, man.”

I snuggled deeper into my blanket. “I’m not keeping you here,” I said, intentionally tugging on the earbud she stole.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t move.

“It’s not like it matters whether she pities me or likes me anyway,” she mumbled, as if reassuring herself.

I ignored her tone and nodded. “As long as you get something out of the relationship, nothing really matters. Whatever their motivation, it’s dumb as shit to turn down help.”

We stayed quiet until the dryer stopped and I stood to pull out my clothing. The earbud ripped out of her ear rather violently, but she didn’t flinch, and instead chose to tell me that my taste in music could use some work.

I nodded. Everything about me could use some work.

As I dropped the blanket and pulled on a shirt, I heard her ask me, “What was your motivation?” She was so quiet that I wondered if I had heard her right.

When I turned to face her, she repeated herself. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you help me?”

I stopped and looked at her, cocking my head to the side as I gazed. White hair, white skin, dark lipstick, and red eyes. Her nails were painted black, the baseball hat on her head slightly askew, and her clothes covered everything but an inch of her ankles, her hands, and her face. It was entrancing to stare at her for too long.

Why did I save her?

I looked away as blood began to flush her cheeks because I, unlike that lady at the counter, knew how to read social cues. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Just felt like it.”

She blinked a few times, unsatisfied with my answer, but again opted to say nothing.

“If that’s all, I’m gonna go.” I pulled on one of the jackets I had stolen, savoring the sweet smell of soap, and wrapped the other around my waist.

Her eyebrows knitted together. “It’s already after curfew,” she warned. “You’ll get caught.”

I raised my eyebrows at the suggestion that I wasn’t skilled enough to evade potential enemies, but she didn’t know me, so I let it slide. “You said the guards wouldn’t make their rounds until almost midnight. I think I’ll be fine.”

I moved closer to her, kneeling down beside her. “Unless you're worried about me?” I asked with a grin. “Would you like me to stay and wait for you so that you know I got home alright?”