Everything on the Table

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     Lost waits until night to put up the charms around the apartment. She hides one on every floor, and even one on the roof and one in the basement. As for our floor, she asks Mariam to keep it in her apartment. Apparently Lost's internal alarm functions just fine close to home but she wants to be sure that Cas, Emma, and Mariam are as safe as me. It's sweet, and the charm caught the attention of Cas, who's vehement belief in magic makes her take the charm willingly. She even starts an extremely long conversation with Lost about magic and magical things, which is too long and complicated for me so I head home. Ever since the mission overseas Lost and Cas have been almost friendly. It's a relief and I don't have to worry about them fighting.
     Stretching, I make my way to the living room and flop down on the couch, then turn on the TV. I haven't told the General that Lost can be put back in the field again, and I don't really want to. I don't want to see her get hurt again. But I know eventually the General will find out and make us do our jobs. I sigh and promise myself to call the General tomorrow as I flick through channels aimlessly. I'm not sure when Lost will come back home, but I think it will be late, seeing as how her and Cas were talking intently with seemingly no end to the conversation. Even Emma had gotten into it with gusto.
    There's nothing familiar to me on TV right now, and I wonder if I should start getting back into a few shows. I used to be caught up with a few things before I moved down to the Facility and even made time to watch new episodes. But now everything I used to watch has either been canceled or I'm seasons behind. There's even a spin off of something I used to watch and it's already two seasons in.
     Leaving the channel on a game show I go to the kitchen to find something to eat. Sometimes Lost makes dinner but I'm not going to go fetch her just to make her cook for me. I'm an independent woman, though I've never been able to cook a ham like Lost. That one is a four star chef. She never fails to surprise me with all the things she can do.
     I decide for something simple and rummage through the pantry to see what I can find. There's a lot to pick from since we just went shopping but for some reason I decide on Lost's mini donuts. But there's only one bag left, and when I look inside there's two lonely donuts inside. Wow. I expected Lost to finish them quickly but not this quickly. When did she even eat them? I've been with her since we got home from the store and she was at Mariam and Cas's for half that time. Well, they're hers so I suppose she can devour them as fast as she wants. But next time I'm definitely buying more bags, or at least buying normal sized donuts.
     Foregoing the mini donuts, I opt for a yogurt cup, mixed berry, and plop back down on the couch. It's times like these that I realize I essentially have no life. I work then come back home, work, come back home. It's monotonous. I don't even go out just to eat. Sure, I've gone out with Lost before, but those occasions were few. Hell, Lost has more of a social life than I do. She's made friends with Hakeem, and probably other neighbors, while I've avoided everyone in this building. I don't do it on purpose, and that's what stings more. I don't attract people the way Lost does. She can find friends anywhere she goes.
     Sucking on my spoon, I slump and kick up my feet. Maybe I could try making friends. Or I could contact old friends I lost touch with when I moved down to the Facility, if they remember me. Who am I kidding? They probably won't want to talk to me. I cut them off without looking back in favor of a job. Granted, the job is great, but lonely sometimes.
     As I'm already finishing my yogurt, the front door opens and I roll my head to look at Lost, who looks back at me and immediately asks, "Are you okay?"
     I probably look like a slob with my feet on the coffee table, an empty yogurt cup sitting on my stomach, and a spoon sticking out of my mouth. "I'm fine. How was your talk with Cas?"
     "Good, good. She's very open minded..." Lost tilts her head and gives me a funny look as she shuts and locks the door with her hands behind her back. "Are you sure you're okay? I came back because you felt... depressed, almost."
     Great, now my lack of a social life is ruining Lost's. "Why don't you come watch TV with me?"
     With a skip in her step Lost approaches and sits down beside me, a big smile on her face. If I never get friends, at least she'll always be happy to hang out with me.
     "Did your talk with Cas really go well?" I ask as I put my spoon in the empty yogurt cup and place it on the coffee table.
     Lost eyes my feet still atop the table, then she spreads out her legs and sinks into the couch cushions, imitating my relaxed demeanor in her own way. "Yes. She's open to the existence of a variety of creatures."
     "Unlike me," I say, giving her a sidelong glance.
     "You believe, in the smallest ways." She runs a hand through her hair, showing off the tiny hairs regrowing over her wound for a moment. "Now can I ask a repetitive question?"
     "Go for it."
     "Are you really okay?"
     I sigh and scoot up the couch a bit, just barely reaching the table with the heels of my feet. "I was thinking about my lack of a social life before you came home."
     Lost puckers her lips and hums in thought. "You want more friends?"
     "Well, I want more to my life than work and home."
     "You want a hobby?"
     "I want... something." I sigh again and drop my feet to the floor. "How do you do it?"
     "Do what?"
     "Approach people, have people approach you. You make friends like it's nothing."
     "It is nothing. People have always been attracted to me, since I hit puberty. I think it's in my blood. Perhaps an evolutionary thing."
     I snort. "You think so?"
     "Oh, yes. I've thought quite a bit on it in the last few years. If I can't attract someone to me, how could I get a collar around my neck?" She tilts her head towards me. "If I were undesirable, I'd go mad under my own power. It seems beneficial to my kind to have the ability to bring eyes to us, don't you think?"
     She's certainly brought my eye to her, and now I wonder if it's only because of an evolutionary development. That could be part of why I like her so much.
     "Did I say something wrong?" Lost asks, looking into my eyes.
     Shaking my head, I give a small smile. "No. I was just thinking."
     "About?"
     "Your evolution. If it's true, I guess it worked. I'm here with you, after all."
     Lost's brow furrows, and she leans her head to the side. "In what way are you attracted to me?"
     "What?"
     "I would only need to be aesthetically pleasing to attract a mistress. Is that the way in which you're attracted to me?"
     Of all the conversations I thought I'd be having tonight, this one was nowhere near on the list. "I like a lot of things about you, not just your face," I admit. "You're smart and down to earth and funny sometimes and really darn nice."
     "I wasn't looking for compliments but... thank you." Lost's cheeks blush and a sheepish smile splits her lips as she looks away. "No one has told me things like that before."
     With her past, I believe it. Abusers don't generally give legitimate compliments, at least not without an ulterior motive.
     "I knew you were going to be different," Lost whispers. "I could feel it."
     The softness in her voice makes me lean close to hear better, and I scoot over a bit so I don't tip over. "Is the difference good?"
     Lost gazes at me, leaning in slightly herself. "You feel... fantastic. I've never enjoyed being with someone as much as you."
     I blink, caught off guard.
     "The way you treat me is... kind," she mumbles. Then she wets her lips, and slowly brings her hand to mine. She clumsily tangles her fingers with mine and gulps. "I'm sorry if I'm saying things you don't want to hear, but you told me to speak my mind once. What's on my mind is that you bring me great happiness and it's strange for me. I'm not sure how to handle it."
     She's close to me. Very, very close. God, her lips look so soft... "Is that how you really feel?" I ask quietly. I might never get the chance to ask again, so I'm not wasting the opportunity. "Or am I influencing you?"
     Disappointingly, Lost inches back. Not far, but I liked having her a breath away. "You influence me in all things whether I want you to or not." Her eyes search my face slowly. "But that's not what you want to hear."
     "No, it's not," I mumble honestly.
     Lost shifts on the couch to have her arm laid out on the back of it, almost inviting me to cuddle up to her. Or at least that's how I see it. For her it's probably to be comfortable.
     "I'm sorry," she says, dropping her head an inch. "But maybe I can say something else to soothe you. You want to know my emotions carved out from beneath yours, yes?"
     "Yes..." I reply, dragging out the word. I think she's asking if I want to know how she feels without my influence.
     "Well, I rarely delve into myself," she admits, "but the way you speak to me, treat me, as if I matter, has forced me to... reevaluate certain things."
     "Reevaluate?"
     Eyes averted, Lost shrugs. "You make me feel the height I am."
     Confused, I frown lightly. But then it clicks and I understand that Lost is telling me I don't make her feel small or lesser.
     "You do not feel this way," she goes on, eyes still somewhere on the other side of the room. "You never felt puny, so I know this is mine. I am compelled to be attracted to you, but I do not have to like you. Yet... I like you. Very much."
     I hold the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth and watch Lost struggle with herself. The inner battle of keeping herself contained and wanting to be open with me is visible in her body language. Has she never had someone treat her with even an ounce of kindness before?
     "I said you influence me in every way whether I want it or not," she says, clearing her throat. Her arm on the couch tenses, slowly sliding closer to herself, but she stops and leaves it where it is. She's trying hard to maintain the image of coolness, as if what she's saying doesn't effect her. "But you had me before you collared me, before I even saw you. The moment I heard your sensitive voice I knew you were someone special. Call it a sixth sense, if you'd like, or don't believe me." She finally looks at me, barely. Her gaze is somewhere over my head. "I was right, though. You are someone special. Every step of the way, every moment I've spent with you, has proven my first instinct right."
     Lip still between my teeth, I fight back a giddy smile. I don't want to give the impression that I'm laughing at her, but Lost's words are the biggest relief. I'm not taking advantage of her. I'm not making her like me through our connection. I like her and she likes me, and those things are separate as they should be.
     "I'm glad I'm not the only one," I say, causing Lost's eyes to finally land on my face.
     "What?" she asks, loud, unsure.
     "I like you, too. Very much."
     Her lips part in surprise. But why? I wonder. She already knew that, she could feel it. "No one's said it like that before," she whispers. Her eyes lock onto mine and a healthy glow starts around the edges of her irises. It's mesmerizing.
     "Like what?" I ask, staring. Lost's eyes are like a blackened cave slowly being illuminated by a torch.
     Now the glow moves outside her pupils, rimming them. "So... Innocently," she breathes. She moves closer to me and studies my face as if I were new to her. "There is no need for control between your words. No drop of self satisfaction. You don't like me because of what I can do for you, for what you can force me to do. You like me because..." She trails off, her brow scrunching in thought.
     Face growing hot, I smile softly and say for her, "Because of who you are, on your own. You're a wonderful person."
     "There it is again, that innocence. Why don't you want to control me? Use me?"
     "People don't exist to be controlled and used. It's not right to treat them like livestock."
     "You believe that."
     "I do."
     Moving ever closer, Lost puts herself directly into my personal bubble, my air. "I have to taste you," she says, completely serious. Her eyes are at full glow and it feels like someone's shining two little flashlights at my face.
     "I- you... What?" Oh God, did she really just say that?
     "I must know how you taste," she says, licking her lips hungrily. "You're different. You make this strange bubble in my stomach that my mother told me about, all my Sisters and Brothers. After years and years of- of squalor and deceit, I thought it was a myth." Her breathing has quickened with the speed of her words and she appears to be getting more and more excited. It's a little overwhelming.
     "What did your mother tell you?" I ask, leaning back an inch or two. Lost's energy is high and I'm not sure what she means by 'taste' anymore. It doesn't seem to be what I want it to be.
     "She told me of the ultimate bond. A sacred thing to be cherished for lifetimes." Lost rakes a hand through her hair then wipes her face. "She said there were going to be wrong people holding a leash around my neck. Many, many wrong people if I'm unlucky." She chuckles dryly. "Apparently I have a centuries long bad luck streak."
     "What else did she say?"
     Holding up a finger, Lost shakes her head in amusement. "One, she said. That almighty, life changing one. This one- the person I thought who was a myth- wouldn't leash me at all. They would collar me to give me strength, to keep my alive, but they would not leash me. I never knew what she meant by that until now. Until you."
     "You think... I'm your one?"
     "You must be! You've made me feel everything my mother told me I would feel. You're the one, my one. My one..."
     My mind is working as fast as it can to figure all this out, but the situation is simply too much. Lost is talking of ultimate bonds and leashes and- how do I take it? "Don't put me on a pedestal," I cry in panic. Clearly Lost is seeing me in a different light and I'm not entirely sure it's a good thing.
     Lost rears back and blinks at me, her eyes dimming. "What?"
     "You're making me more special than I actually am. That's almost as bad as making me a monster."
     "I... I don't understand."
     Sighing, I scratch my neck. "Look, I don't want to be seen as an abuser, but I don't want to be seen as some kind of deity either. You're putting ridiculous expectations on me, Lost."
Lost, looking absolutely perplexed, frowns at me. "Then what do you want?"
     "I want to be seen as me. No worse, no better. I'm only human."
     Sinking into the couch cushions, deflated, Lost's eyes go completely dark. "No one's ever wanted that from me. Usually they want to be completely worshipped to and obeyed."
     Though I'm not thrilled that this whole thing didn't go in the direction I first thought, I'm glad important topics are finally out in the open. "I don't want to be worshipped," I say, tucking a foot under me. "You know how when we hang out and we just... enjoy each other's company?"
     Lost brings her arm to herself and nods. "Yes."
     "That's what I like. Us being us."
     "That's it?"
     I chuckle breathily. It's hard to believe that being relatively normal is an alien concept to someone. "That's it."
     "Oh." Grunting in satisfaction, Lost stares at the TV. She watches for a minute, and I do too because I'm not yet capable of doing anything else, but then her hand covers mine, her eyes still on the screen. "Can I still do this?" she asks. "Or is this not us?"
     The warmth from her palm makes me smile, and it only widens when her fingers shake as they curl to take my hand carefully.
     "This is us," I whisper. "This is us."

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