Chapter Two

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I wake up to the sound of someone else moving around in my apartment and for a few seconds I'm trying to figure out how quickly I can get to the knife taped to the underside of my coffee table, and then I remember I have a guest and I'm left wide awake from the shot of adrenaline.

I huff a sigh and rub a hand down my face before I roll onto my side and look out across my apartment. Shiro is shuffling around in the kitchen, having made my bed and gotten dressed already, speaking quietly into his phone as he stirs at the contents of a mug.

"I'm sorry, it's a family emergency." He's saying and I make myself sit up, stretching and combing my hair back from my face. There's a cold chill coming off of the window behind me and I glance over my shoulder. It's snowed at some point, the streets already plowed and the snow turning to sludge in the gutters. "I'm not sure when I'll be back." Shiro pauses and looks over to me, surprised to see me awake at first and then he gives me a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Maybe a week? I have some leave saved up..."

It hadn't occurred to me that Shiro had a job and that I had interrupted it, but at least he knew well enough that he couldn't go in for now. I was on babysitting duty and there's probably policies about bringing smelly strays into the office. I toss my blanket over the arm of the couch and pad over to the kitchen, accepting the mug Shiro hands me. Black, instant coffee with a greasy film on the surface, still twirling from him stirring the contents. I take a deep gulp and sigh with satisfaction, mouthing a 'thank you' before I check my own phone. It's a little after two and I haven't missed anything. No texts or calls.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you." Shiro says, before he puts his phone down and leans against the counter for a moment before he searches for the cupboard where the mugs are and sets about making his own coffee. I dig my cigarettes out from my coat pocket and light one with the lighter I tucked into the pack. Shiro glances up at the fire alarm above the stove and I chuckle.

"I don't think that thing has worked in the last decade or so."

"It's not very safe." He murmurs against the lip of his mug before taking a cautious sip of hot coffee. He makes a face and I nudge over the little porcelain bowl of sugar. He dumps three spoonfuls in. Alright. I hum my acknowledgment to his safety concerns and stretch as far as I can to try and ash my smoke into the sink. I catch the edge. Close enough.

"I'm gonna shower, and then we'll head over to Allura's, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

A shower helps to clear my head of all the things rattling around in there after last night. I relax a little and stop trying to dig my fingers into the situation and force it to make sense and instead I let it go, let all of my thoughts about it just flow through me- because, truth be told, making sense of things isn't in my job description. I'm the cavalry. There are other people who do the research and get the answers. I occasionally get a good hunch or something but my existing knowledge of lore regarding the things I face on the regular is more or less limited to how I can kill something and things I've figured out along the way. Shiro is something new. That's okay.

I brush my teeth, comb my hair up into a ponytail and get dressed. I leave my knife behind and Shiro remembers to grab the keys.

We walk the few blocks it takes to get to Allura's shop, a cute little white brick building with a black sign over the door with 'WITCHERY' printed in clean, white lines. The round display window next to the door advertises- in bright pink, buzzing neon- tarot card and palm readings, walk-ins are welcome! The pink light catches on all the angles of Shiro's face as he stares at it with his brows drawn in. I laugh at him. "What?"

"I always thought that palm readers were crooks." He admits after a moment.

"Most of them are." I grin and shrug at him. The tip of his nose is pink from the cold. "Allura isn't, but everyone has to make a living I guess. It's all bullshit to me, whether the reading is legitimate or not."

The Watcher // SheithWhere stories live. Discover now