A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.
For once Drem had been the one to jump. The sound of something crashing against a wall in the living room caught his attention instantly. His mind first thought that his little doe had injured herself somehow, and he reconsidered his action of showing her the clock. It was too late to change it, but he hadn't expected her to have a violent reaction.
Turning around quickly, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her physically fine. Well, minus the marks that he had left on her. As for her mental and emotional states, he presumed that it was quite a different story, especially given the scream that she had released just moments ago. Hopefully, none of the neighbors had heard.
Having just finished with her dinner, he set it aside for the moment and went over to her. His eyes glanced to the antique clock, and a small smile etched itself on his lips. He was concerned for her, but he couldn't help the grin. She had just broken his primary barrier. When Nathan returned, the antique collector wouldn't be able to seal him back in that blasted thing.
Looking out the windows, he saw no activity outside and let out another sigh. His attention went back to his little doe, whom now had her hands covering her face. Steadily, he rested his hands on her wrists, but she proceeded to swat at the air, which amounted to her cursing loudly. After all, it wasn't a wise decision to swipe her hands through his. Her hands probably felt like they were freezing at the moment.
"Leave me alone, Drem," she voiced, turning her back to him and curling up on the couch.
Frowning a little bit at this, he grabbed another piece of paper and the pen from before. He didn't want to have her moping for the rest of the evening, especially when he made her a really nice dinner. The male had some idea of what was going through her head at the moment, so he wrote down a question for her and dropped the paper in front of her face.
"I'm not blaming myself, Drem. Or, I'm not trying to anyway. I don't know who to blame in this situation. Maybe, the fault falls on everyone," she mumbled out, curling up more. "Just leave me alone. I'm tired of dealing with all this right now." Taking the paper back, he wrote some more lines down and placed it in front of her again.
Watching the paper return to in front of her eyes, she was tempted to crumble it up and toss it back at him. Honestly, she wanted to cry but not with him right there, and she doubted that he would go away until she read whatever message was on the paper. So, she looked over it frustratingly. I'm not leaving you alone. You didn't leave me be when I was enraged by an upsetting discovery. You comforted me, so let me return the favor.
"Truth be told, you're not exactly the first person that I would look to for consolation," she responded, rolling her (e/c) eyes a bit. The paper left her view again. It soon returned.
Then at least eat your dinner and get some rest. If you want to cool your head, rest usually is the best option. Unlike you, I don't have that luxury, yet I feel exhausted.
"Somehow, I doubt that. Stop trying to earn my sympathy," she murmured, now crunching up the paper and throwing it back at him. She rolled over and hopped off of the couch. Her eyes directed themselves to plate of dinner on the kitchen counter. She grabbed the pasta, along with a fork, and marched off to her room. The door slammed shut behind her.
His brown eyes stayed on her until his sight of her vanished. He pushed some of his auburn locks back and looked to the couch. Even though he was technically dead, he still wished that he could sleep. The plush cushions seemed rather nice at the moment, and he was legitimately tired. The doe's fear still fed his ability to perform tasks like moving objects around with perfect ease, so he should be feeling better than he used to.
This wasn't the case, however. He couldn't pinpoint the exact cause of his weariness, but he assumed that it was because he missed having his body. Not even death could provide him solace. He was as dead as he was ever going to get. The world would go by, but he wouldn't even be able to see all of the changes. Rather, he would be stuck in this house for all of eternity.
Such a prospect was energy draining even to someone who was basically dead. One of the flaws in his fortune telling capabilities, when he had been alive, was that he couldn't peer into his own fortune. He couldn't see that this would happen to him.
Maybe, he would go work on the doll some more. That might make him feel better. As he headed in that direction, though, he stopped himself. The clock had been broken, so that original plan of his wouldn't work anymore. Of course, he didn't mind this, especially since a new idea formulated itself. A large grin overtook his features, while he made another arrangement for the evening. His plan would be truly beyond satisfactory.
~~~~~~~~~~
By the time that morning rolled around, she had managed to calm herself down, but she looked horrible. Her thoughts about the horrendous clock filled her head for most of the night. She had managed to get some rest, but the bags under eyes would say otherwise.
Leaning her elbows on the sink counter, she rested her face in her hands and remained like that for probably a minute. With the current day included, she only had four more days left of Drem and this house: four more days until she could run home and relax for once. Of course, that all depended on whether Drem would let her leave.
Nathan would arrive the following day, however. So, she could use the antique collector as a shield because, frankly, she didn't give a d*mn if he got injured. He's the a**hole who got her into this whole mess. The stupid male hadn't even put a warning label on the clock: Please, don't touch; there's a life ruining ghost/spirit inside.
Normally if she were to see something like that, she would laugh, but now it was far from funny. So, perhaps, a label wouldn't have been the best method, but some form of warning would have been pleasant. Lifting her face up, she took off her towel and changed into some new clothes. A light purple hoodie, tan shorts and her fuzzy white slippers were on her form.
Waiting outside the door was Drem, and she merely walked by him, as she planned to return her dinner plate to the kitchen. It was gone from the top of her bed, which didn't surprise her, and she glanced back to the monkey following her. "Thanks," she muttered out before she headed towards the kitchen. "Do you mind making some more of that pasta?" she asked, since it was actually pretty good. Besides, it was a comfort food to her.
She caught him nodding out of the corners of her eyes before she looked fully forward. While he would work on the meal, she would finally start her second mystery book. Her eyes landed on the still sealed box on the kitchen counter, and she felt a little happiness fill her mind again.
Tearing the packaging tape off, she opened the box and smiled slightly at the book inside. She reached in and grabbed the item that would hopefully make the day somewhat enjoyable. With her desired item in hand, she went over to the couch and plopped herself down. (F/n) lay on her back and had her feet hang off the left armrest.
Kitchen supplies started to move around, as she focused in on her book. The protagonist was on cruise ship and on her way to a dream island trip. Soft and warm sand awaited her, while she would be served food and drink to her heart's content. (F/n) easily lost herself in the protagonist's vacation and pictured herself being there.
Of course, the protagonist's journey turned downhill upon arriving at the vacation spot. The protagonist was just about to discover presumably the body, but a warm plate of pasta distracted (f/n) from the next line. She sat up a little and put the book aside for the moment. After she thanked Drem for the food quietly, she began to eat, while the monkey came over to the couch.
Since he needed help up, she reached down with her right hand and nearly tossed him onto the couch. She didn't apologize because she felt that thanking him for the food was nicety enough. When she finished eating, Drem came over to her and settled himself on her lap. (F/n) raised an eyebrow but brushed his action aside after a few seconds.
Directing her attention back to her book, she held it low enough for him to read. As the story progressed, her mind put together details from another mystery. Her book no longer became a case about finding the individual who killed a person and buried their body on the remote island. Instead, it was fitting the clues together about Drem, Nathan and Evelyn.
"Drem, will you tell me about what happened yet? I want to know who started this whole mess," she voiced simply, no longer turning the pages. Drem shook his head and tapped on the book. He started to draw letters with his fingers. "So, after I finish this book, then you'll tell me?" She received a shrug, and she sighed in exasperation. Personally, she wanted to know the cause of all of this, so she could vent her stored frustrations out.