Idiot idiot idiot idiot-

I’d spent the last three hours locked in my room, talking in low whispers to Balthazar, who had only flicked his tongue at me in distaste. I wasn’t hungry, thanks to a bag of stale doritos I had found on my dresser, but I had never been more thirsty in my life, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.

And to top it all off, it was nearing the late afternoon, and I was all too aware that I’d barely gotten any work done for the day.

You’re seriously worrying about work whenever there’s a murderer in your living room who may or may not be waiting for you to come back out into the open so he can STAB YOU IN THE NECK.

Stabbing someone in the neck sounds very inconvenient, I mean, think of all the blood that would go everywhere-

I groaned, shutting down my train of thoughts. My groan came out more like a cough, however, since my throat was dryer than the Sahara Desert.

Balthazar flicked his tongue at me, and I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right, buddy. I’m going to have to go out there sometime. Guess there’s no better time than now.”

I swallowed, drawing a sharp scratch of attention to the dryness in my throat, and I threw an internal tantrum as I stood up and walked to the door of my room.

I’m only delaying the inevitable.

I grabbed the doorknob and went to turn it. My hand felt frozen though, and I couldn’t seem to summon the willpower I needed. I itched as I heard someone’s voice crawl through my head even though I’d kicked it out long ago.

What are you? Some kind of fucking coward? Stop hiding in the bedroom and come face me like a real man, Theo.

I shook my head, steeling myself and reminding myself it wasn’t real. Or, at least, not anymore it wasn’t. And to prove that to myself, I pushed open my door, tired of hiding.

Except I didn’t really push, more of shoved, which meant that my door hit the doorframe with an extremely loud BANG, causing me to jump out of my skin.

Nice. Real nice.

An eerie silence followed, and I found myself sticking my head out of the doorway, glancing in both directions cautiously. And there was nothing. No movement, no sounds, no nothing.

Where is Melve?

I stepped out into the hallway slowly, attempting not to make a sound. I wasn’t really sure why I was sneaking around my own house, but the atmosphere felt tense, as if it was charged with electricity, ready to blow at any moment.

It took me a second, but I realized I could hear something, over the sound of my own heavy breathing, that is. There was sizzling, and the closer I got to the end of my hallway, the louder it got.

Don’t tell me he’s…

I peeked my head through the doorway into the living room, craning my neck towards the kitchen, peril still lurking on the edges of my thoughts. I could see the back of Melve, who was standing at my stove, and I found myself momentarily transfixed on how shiny his hair was in the light.

Focus you idiot!

I went to take another step forward, so intent on watching Melve that I neglected to look where I was going. Which is why, of course, of course, I had to trip over a book I had left on the ground, and go sprawling out on my stomach directly onto the floor.

You have got to be kidding me.

“Shit!” Was the word that came flying out of my mouth right before I smacked down on the ground, barely pausing a second before scrambling back up to my feet again, my eyes immediately on Melve’s figure, which had turned around, in the kitchen.

My face went red in a matter of seconds, and I stood frozen on the floor, staring at Melve with crooked glasses as he coolly observed me, spoon in hand. Sizzling came from behind him, now accompanied by the pleasant sound of something bubbling.

I opened my mouth, what for, I wasn’t entirely sure, because I couldn’t think of shit to say. Especially whenever he laughed at me, put a hand on his hip, and said, “Took you long enough to finish sulking. I’m making food because I haven’t seen you use this stove once since I’ve been here.”

My mouth stayed open, and I most likely looked ridiculous, standing there in my pajamas, mouth gaping wide open. He turned back around, ignoring me completely, and I almost felt offended.

At least, until I remembered why I had been so hesitant to come out of my room in the first place.

Oh. Yeah.

With that in mind, I snapped my jaw shut, then walked stiffly to the table, where I had left my computer. I opened the top subconsciously but stared at Melve’s back as he cooked. He was moving with practiced precision, and it occurred to me that he must enjoy cooking, or at the very least be good at it.

He started to turn around, and I quickly refocused my gaze back at my computer, my ears heating up and giving away my embarrassment. I tried to ignore his figure in the kitchen, shaking my head to myself.

Get to work. You’re behind enough as it is.

After taking a long drink from the lukewarm water glass I had left on the table, I opened back up the novel I’d been working on, and forced myself to get absorbed in my work.

Minutes ticked by, and I finally found myself relaxing, figuring maybe Melve had forgotten about my outburst from earlier.

And then a clang made me jerk back in my seat, my frightened eyes scrambling up to Melve’s face, who stood in front of me with a terrifying smile on his face.

He gestured to the plate he had dropped beside me, his eyes glinting. “Dinner is served.”