The Seer

Amanda smiled, glad that he had agreed to stay, then she headed to the closet, grabbing a thick blanket and some pillows before setting them on the settee. She knew it would get very cold that night because she could not afford to pay for heating, so it had been shut off. She blushed as she warned him of this, her shame creeping into her cheeks. She froze as he rose a hand to place on her head and she gasped a bit, realizing that she didn't see anything. His touch was... warm. She'd not been touched by anyone on purpose since she was a small child. She'd forgotten how nice it felt. Her eyes drifted shut as she soaked in the encounter, her gloved hands sliding up to rest on his wrist lightly, thumb caressing skin. After a moment she backed away, ripping herself from the first bit of comfort she'd had in years upon years, and nodded once, curtly, before disappearing into her room.
 
Ryan watched her disappear into her room, then looked down at his wrist where she had touched him, thinking to himself. She obviously did not want sex, unless she wanted him to make all the moves or something but he did not think that was the case. He was almost totally a complete stranger. So why had she invited him to stay the night in her house when she had nothing to gain? Luckily she did not seem like the kind of girl who would kill him in his sleep or some fucked up thing like that. But still... Ryan decided that he was just too tired to not trust her. He slipped his feet out of his boots and pulled off his jacket, keeping everything else on as he lay down on the couch, pulling the blankets over him and curling up to get comfortable, grateful for the warm sheets fighting off the slight chill. For a good hour or two sleep continued to evade him. His mind just replayed the events that had happened in seemingly instantaneous succession and tying to make sense of it all. She had saved him, but how did she know? How did the beam fall? Why did she not want him to touch her and then invite him in? Did she know anything about him? Eventually, his brain decided to do what it normally did when it encountered an impossible math equation. It said "Fuck it" and went to sleep. Ryan slept like a rock. His dreams were filled with a whirlwind of purple hair, violet eyes, and cracking concrete.
 
Amanda closed her bedroom door and sat on her bed, looking out the half-open window and into the darkening sky. She knew it was good to allow Ryan to stay with her, because it meant he would not be going home and to the realm of empty pain and hate, but what would she do tomorrow? She sighed gently, deciding she would get to it when it came, but for now she was growing tired. She stripped and slid on a pair of short silken pajama shorts and a loose matching tank top before carefully pulling off her gloves. When she had no long sleeves on, it was obvious that they were gloves, but it didn't matter now. She set them on her nightstand and sat in her bed for a moment, enjoying the cool breeze playing across her pale skin. She let her eyes drift shut as her mind relaxed, the thoughts and fears and worries of the day slipping away into nothing until she was entirely calm, completely relaxed. She lay back carefully, pulling the blankets over her until she was fast asleep.

The next morning she was up early, wandering, still mostly naked, to the kitchen, her bare feet making no noise on the carpet and hardwood floors. She passed a sleeping Ryan and couldn't help but giggle as she saw his mouth agape, a soft snoring rising from his throat. He was... cute. She entered the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, preparing a dip for french toast. She loved to cook. She'd forgotten her gloves in her room, deciding that as long as Ryan didn't touch her, nothing would go wrong. Why would he have a reason to touch her at all? She began cooking, humming gently and moving around the room gracefully, her years in dance classes kicking in.
 
He woke up without opening his eyes, delaying the inevitable before cracking his eyelids. He felt that storybook cliche of waking up and forgetting where you were before remembering everything, mainly the girl that had invited him to stay at her place. He heard movement in the kitchen and figured that that was her on the grounds that any parent would freak out upon suddenly finding him sleeping on the couch in the morning. He closed his eyes again, willing for sleep to come back to him, but to no avail. Slowly realizing that his attempts were futile, he sat up on the couch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his fingertips. He was still in his school clothes. In fact, the clothes on his back were literally all he had until he went back home. Wait... what day was it anyway? Feeling like he could use another few hours of unobtainable sleep, he tossed the blankets off of him and walked barefoot towards the noise in the kitchen, squinting at the bright light.

There was Amanda, in all her purple glory, wearing a loose shirt and short shorts. Very short shorts. Ryan's eyes traveled up and down the back of her body, watching her sway and flow as she moved. When there was nothing else for him to intensely focus on, she was a most certainly very nice distraction. Ryan leaned on his elbows on the countertop, yawning and scratching his face, trying to shake the sleep off of himself. He looked past her at whatever she was cooking. It looked like she was about to soak bread in milk so that would be... French toast? He heard his stomach rumble, reminding him that he not only neglected dinner yesterday, but breakfast as well and he had better not skip this morning's breakfast. That was, assuming she was making some for him. If not, he'd just have to ask if he could loot her fridge for leftovers.


"What's up?" His greeting was accompanied by another yawn and a deep sniff. Something about this home felt... different... good, even. He could not really tell what, but he knew that it was something about the way her place smelled.
 
She'd heard him wake up, she'd heard him moving around, but she didn't care much. She was in a very good mood this morning, her thoughts had nothing bad, the sun was shining through the blings and lighting the place naturally, it was warmer today, and she had company. She didn't wake up to a cold empty house for once in a very long time. She smiled and continued working, making piece after piece of french toast, sprinkling cinnamon and raisins and powdered sugar and syrup... She made a ton, she didn't know how much he would eat. She hummed a song she remembered her mother singing to her when she was younger, then she heard his stretching forced groans and she turned, plate in hand, and set it on the counter in front of him with a glass of milk and a fork. She smiled, not returning the greeting, but not giving off any bad vibes, either. She was so... happy. She loved having him in her apartment. It made it feel more like... home. She glanced at the clock and nodded a bit. Thank goodness they didn't have school today. She set her own plate on the counter and turned the stove off before slipping onto a high stool and digging in, chewing happily and watching him. After a moment she swallowed and finally spoke.

"I can make bacon too if you'd like. And... if you'd like to stay the weekend... I can run you by your house while your father is gone and... you can get clothes and supplies..."

She said the last bit slowly, thinking on the words she would use.
 
His eyes widened a bit as she put the plate down in front of him. Amanda had cooked quite a lot of food, not that he was complaining. He quite simply was not used to someone making breakfast for him, much less such a big one. His stomach rumbled again and he obeyed its commands, picking up a piece of toast and taking tentative a bite. It was soft, warm, and most of all, delicious. Suddenly, he was wolfing down the food, keeping pieces of toast in his mouth just long enough to taste it before swallowing. He looked up at her mid-bite as she spoke, having been too focused on his food to pay much attention to her, and hesitated. He felt like it might trouble her to cook more food, but his stomach made the decision for him. He nodded. Bacon sounded good right about now.

Her next inquiry almost made him freeze. There were a couple of things wrong with that sentence, a couple of things that made alarms to off in his head. Staying the weekend with a girl he had met yesterday... now that was weird. If he had picked her up in a bar for a one night stand, that would make sense, but that was most certainly not what had happened. But what was really tugging a his mind was the fact that she had said "father" not "parents." This implied that she knew about his family but... how? He had only met her yesterday and she had been nearly hostile to him. Was it a lucky guess? A slip of the tongue? Why the whole weekend? He thought that she was either a slut, a stalker, or a genuinely nice person. As much as he wanted to believe the latter, he simply did not trust her enough. He swallowed the last of his food and tested the waters. "How'd ya know I lived with my father? ...In fact, how did you know about that construction beam that almost crushed me? Or did you just follow me?" Ok, so that was a little more than just 'testing the waters.'

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning on his elbows. He was deep in thought, pondering recent occurrences, options, possible consequences, and his generous hostess's ulterior motives. Eventually he said, "Alright, I'll stay the weekend of you want me to so badly. On the settee, that is. I can go grab some stuff from my place any time today. And... um..." He looked down, embarrassed and awkward. "Thanks... for everything."
 
Amanda watched him wolf down his food as she smiled at him. When he eagerly accepted the offer for bacon, so nodded and floated to the fridge, pulling a thick package of bacon out. She began heating the stove, laying strip after strip into a huge iron skillet and hearing them begin to sizzle. When she heard the munching stop, she turned and leaned against the counter, bent over a tiny bit as she rested her elbows on the counter in front of her. When she saw the look on his face, she knew she'd let too much slip and she silently cursed herself for it. Well shit, now he would be eyeing her and hating her forever. She bit her lip gently and listened to the speculative tone in his voice as he asked her question after question, but she was surprised when he finally gave in and agreed to staying the weekend. Monday was President's day, so it was an elongated weekend, but she didn't mind company. She knew he was still wary about what she'd said, and she knew he'd want answers, so she stepped forward and sighed gently. It was now or never to tell him the truth, whether he would accept it or not.

"Alright, look. You're welcome and everything, but I want to show you something, but you've got to promise me you won't freak out... Please. It will clarify everything."

Her hands were shaking, her heart was racing. What would he do? Would he freak out and run from her? Would he accept her as she was? Would he call her a freak like her parents did?"
 
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