You know that feeling you get when you’re on a roller coaster, and you’re at the highest point, and there’s this pause, this one second before you go plunging down? That feeling? Well, that’s exactly how I felt.

The reason I felt that way was because my willpower to ignore Melve seemed to be draining incredibly fast. Last night, he’d acted more human than I’ve ever seen him, and my brain made the logical decision that, based on a single night alone, why, he must be an alright guy after all!

I laid buried under my covers in bed, staring at Balthazar, who was asleep, as last night’s events repeated in my head. I couldn’t seem to forget the way Melve had reacted to my rant about books, which was, to say, with good humor. He’d smirked, like he always does, but that time his eyes were smiling.

And it was crazy how big of a difference it made.

I groaned, knowing I had to get up sometime, especially for work and coffee, but reluctant to leave my bed which was perfectly heated. I finally pushed off the comforter, which, while a solid plan, immediately failed because of how cold the floors were. I laid in bed for two more minutes, then finally got out of bed, grumbling as I moved towards my door, my blanket wrapped around me like a shawl.

It usually wasn’t this cold in the mornings, at least at this time of year. It just goes to show how long it had been since I’d had company that wasn’t Violet or Conor, because I thought nothing of walking into the kitchen swaddled in a thick, pale yellow comforter that made me look small, smaller than I already was.

It only occurred to me after Melve took one look at me and pursed his lips together in what a very obvious attempt not to laugh out loud. I scowled at him, my blanket trailing like a cape as I went to sit on the couch where my computer was laying.

“Cold?” Melve asked, raising an eyebrow at where I’d made the equivalent of a nest in my corner of the couch.

I sniffed at him, opening my laptop after situating myself to where only my face and hands were visible. “The stupid apartment is freezing,” I muttered, only getting a laugh in response.

It didn’t hit me until later that day, but the atmosphere had shifted. Yes, I was still afraid of Melve. Yes, I was still being held hostage in my own home, and yes, he’s still a murderer. But I wasn’t walking on eggshells anymore, and I was acting more like myself than I had before.

Maybe it was the strange incident from last night, or maybe I’d just had enough. But my personality seemed to have returned to my body, and Melve seemed more than willing to banter with me.

But I, an avid reader, couldn’t deny that right then we looked exactly like the well-used trope of “Two people who are somehow forced in the same vicinity and have now established a friendly repartee”. I ignored thinking about where those tropes eventually led.

~~~

A couple of days later, life almost seemed like it was normal again. After all, it’s said that humans can adjust to any environment, and Melve had been staying at my apartment for a little over a week now. It was slightly troubling how used to him I’d gotten.

Used enough to him that if I got up and coffee wasn’t made, I made enough for two. Used enough that I could work peacefully near him without being on edge. Used enough that I longer scrunched myself up into the corner of the couch, but sat normal, albeit still away.

Used enough, that one day, I had left my bedroom door open casually, it not occurring to me to close it. I was standing next to Balthazar’s cage, letting him roam my arms and shoulders, speaking aloud to him as I was wont to do.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry you haven’t been out in a bit. And I really should be working right now, you know.” Balthazar bit my ear in what I’m sure was a show of love.

I was standing facing the window, which meant I had my back turned to the door, which meant, that I didn’t notice when the doorway was no longer empty.

No, I only noticed when a cough came from behind me, and I froze, vividly aware of Balthazar sitting on my shoulder. I turned around slowly, not wanting to accidentally throw him off of me.

“Who are you talking to?” Said with a smirk, as always, by Melve, of course. No one else I knew could move as silently as he could, and I never knew when he was in the room with me.

I pushed my glasses up with one hand, my face going red. “Er, my iguana?”

“You have an iguana?” Asked not with disgust, or mocking laughter, but with fascination, which, I for one, was not expecting. “Holy shit, is that him?”

Melve’s face was nothing like I’d ever seen it before, bright with wonder and excitement, his eyes shining. My heart stuttered, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Yeah, his name’s Balthazar.” I reached up to my shoulder, sliding my hand under Balthazar, who seemed unbothered by the sudden location change. I held him out in both hands, fighting a grin. “He’s kind of a dick, though.”

Melve’s face flickered into a brief smile, and his eyes glanced up at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the word ‘dick’ before.”

I made a weird grumbling sound, the look on Melve’s face doing weird things to my stomach. “Yeah well, he’ll probably bite you, he’s an asshole, but you can hold him if you want.”

“I can?” Melve looked like a kid in a candy shop, and he held out his hands reverently, as if I was about to bestow some great gift upon him. I grinned as I gently tipped Balthazar into Melve’s hands, Balthazar immediately opening his eyes and glaring at me, as well as he could anyways. He then turned, precariously balanced on Melve’s arms.

It was silent for a couple of seconds, and I was almost convinced Balthazar was going to behave after all, when all of a sudden he turned and chomped on Melve’s thumb. I immediately panicked, and stuck my hands out under Melve’s, positive Melve was going to jerk back and drop Balthazar.

“Sorry!”

Instead, Melve didn’t move a muscle, staring at Balthazar with worship in his eyes. “I love him.”

A smile broke out my face, a big one, and I genuinely smiled at Melve, for what might have been the first time. “He just bit you.”

Melve smiled, not all that worried about the blood welling up on his thumb. “That’s alright, I don’t mind.”

After putting Balthazar back into his cage, and after offering Melve a bandaid for his wound, we sat back on the couch, him with one of my books, and me with my laptop, ready to work.

Thing was, I couldn’t stop thinking about Melve’s reaction back in my room. From everything to the initial shock, to him not getting pissed off when Balthazar bit him. Probably because I had once had someone, not all that long ago, who had gotten pissed in the same situation. And while I knew I shouldn’t have been comparing them, I did anyway, ignoring the implications behind my actions.