The Lost Boy

Chapter Three

Sighing, she unlocks her door and walks inside. Her warm and comfortable apartment greets her with open arms. She smiles as the door swings shut behind her, shedding her coat and tossing it on a chair along with her purse.

I'm not going to think about it. I'm just going to change into my pajamas, make some tea, and snuggle up on the couch.

Nodding to herself, Monica makes her way to her bedroom. She unbuttons her dress and shrugs out of it, letting it fall to the floor. Then kicks her shoes off and rolls her socks of her feet before tossing it all in the hamper. She then grabs her rumpled pajamas off of her messy, unmade bed and shimmies them on.

Deciding to curl up on the couch, Monica grabs one of the blankets from her bed and drags it out with her while trying to make up her mind about what kind of tea to brew.

Standing on her tiptoes she pulls out a box of sleepy time tea. She takes out one packet of the tea and returns the box to its shelf and moves to grab a mug next. Her mind wanders back to what she said to Harry and she frowns again, not wanting to think about it.

I can't believe I frightened him enough to make him run away. Though... I was pretty forward. God, what am I supposed to say when he comes back?

Monica's microwave beeps loudly at her, knocking her out of her distressing thoughts. She takes her steaming mug out of the microwave and drops in the tea bag. She busies herself by stirring the tea bag around in the mug with a spoon. Placing the spoon in the sink, she picks up the mug and her blanket and makes her way to the couch.

Settling down, she wraps up in the blanket, sipping her tea. As she sips her tea she becomes increasingly sleepy. Before she knows it, she has already dosed off.

Not long after she's suddenly awoken when her mug slips from her hands. But it doesn't crash to the ground. Monica blinks in the darkness that is her apartment. Her eyes immediately travel to the window letting in the only source of light. She jumps when she spots Harry looking back at her from the window, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Sorry I woke you. You almost dropped your tea." He looks frightening and hungry the way the pale light falls on his face.

"H-how did you get in here?" Monica asks, sitting up.

"The door was open."

"Is something wrong, Harry? You look... different." Monica shifts, looking worried. He peers down, a small pained smile crossing his lips.

"I just ran into an old friend, that's all."

"The one who you were talking about earlier?"

"No."

"Oh, well, did you drink?" Monica asks. Harry shakes his head, his gaze returning to the window.

"I just wanted to get out of there." Neither of them speak. The clock above the television ticks loudly with each movement of the red hand.

"I'm sorry for scaring you off earlier." Monica finally says. "I hope you can still stay." Harry glances over. He doesn't answer until many ticks later.

"I didn't know how to react. So I ran away. I'm the one who should be sorry." He pauses. "I don't have to stay here if you're not comfortable with a vampire hanging out in your apartment."

"No, no!" She says a bit too quickly. "I want you to stay." And then she blushes and clamps her mouth shut. Harry smiles.

"Then it's settled." His gaze returns to the window. He furrows his eyebrows as he peers out, his smile quickly disappearing. "You know, another reason I ran away was because I could smell you."