"...weird..."
Natalie rolled over, shoving her hands underneath the pillow for warmth. She kept her eyes shut tight, wanting just a few more minutes of sleep.
"...said no one was inside and nothing was taken."
"You think..."
Just go away. Please. I'm trying to sleep...
"...okay, Mom. It's probably just broken."
Why's Quinn here...?
Natalie's eyes snapped open. She sat up straight, grabbing desperately for the edges of the blanket, as footsteps approached. A curious hand pushed open the door, and a ray of light from the hallway blinded her.
"Why's the guest room door op..."
Quinn stopped dead, staring at her. His nice brown eyes opened as wide as they could go. Natalie sat up straight, blanket pulled up close to her face. Fear wracked every muscle in her body, but she couldn't move.
"What was that?" called Quinn's mother from down the hall.
"Linnethea?" asked Quinn breathlessly. He took a step into the room.
"What?" Natalie whispered, confused.
He looked closer. "...Natalie?"
A strand of golden hair at the edge of her vision reminded her everything she'd done earlier. She reached up slowly, and felt along the top of one ear. It was still pointed and sharp.
Natalie nodded. In a burst of movement, she grabbed up her blanket and stuffed it into her bag, along with her pillow. He rushed to her side, helping her pack everything back into her bag, but still making sure he always stayed a short distance away.
"What are you doing here?" Quinn hissed.
"It's a long story," she whispered back. "I thought you weren't gonna be home til Sunday."
"It is Sunday. It's one in the morning, but..."
"Oh no," Natalie murmured. "I gotta go."
"Yeah, you really do." Quinn glanced over his shoulder. "I'll try to sta—"
"Hey Q, who are you talk...ing to..."
A man who could only be Quinn's father appeared on the threshold. Natalie looked up against her better judgment, meeting his dark brown eyes. He didn't look unfriendly, particularly with the warm smile lighting up his dark face—but it faded the moment he saw Natalie sitting on the bed, frantically packing up a bag with his son's help.
Her heart sank. I'm so sorry, Quinn.
Again.
Please don't hate me.