"You're up," she said, her voice low and small, dread and curiosity hiding beneath it.
Allan stared at her for some time, as though he was going to say something, but then his expression shifted, interest fading away as he leaned back and made himself more comfortable where he sat.
Elaine hesitated before finally stepping forward, sitting on the edge of the blanket, leaving a cautious distance between them. The dawn sky peered beautifully through the half-drawn window, streaks of pale light cutting across the room. The noise outside was still loud, murmurs, chatter, worried voices.
Trying to sound normal, she asked, "So… aren't you concerned about what's going on out there?" Her tone carried a weak attempt at friendliness.
Allan didn't look up immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and heavy with disinterest. "No."
His answer was short, almost cold, making it hard for her to continue the conversation. She bit her lip, unsure what to say next. Since he had gone out last night without her noticing, he'd been acting strange, quiet, distant, like he was trying to shut everyone out again. She didn't like it. She had gotten used to his slightly warmer side, the one that made her believe they were friends. Now, it almost felt like she had imagined that part of him.
It made her wonder, had something happened last night?
"Did you… take a dip in the stream?" she asked hesitantly.
He blinked at her, clearly understanding what she meant. She had noticed his clothes were damp earlier when the man had splashed him with holy water. Her suspicion wasn't clear, but she was definitely suspicious.
"No," he said. "Why do you ask?"
They were facing each other now, still seated far apart for no real reason except invisible tension.
"Well, I noticed your wet clothes last night, so I th—"
"I slipped," he said abruptly, cutting her off.
Elaine's eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, she just stared at him before bursting into a small laugh. "You…?" she said, pointing a finger at him in disbelief, a smile already spreading across her face. "Slipped?"
He gave her a look of mild confusion. "What? Is it a bad thing to slip?" he asked, sounding almost innocent.
His expression had softened, and that alone pleased her. It was like catching a brief glimpse of the old Allan again.
"I just mean… it's such a clumsy act. Not something I'd expect from you." She laughed again, trying to hold back the sound with her hand. "I can't even imagine you tripping, talk more of slipping."
He let out a quiet chuckle, one that sounded almost embarrassed, but before the warmth between them could grow, the moment was interrupted by movement at the door.
Helena stepped in, her eyes flicking briefly toward them. She said nothing, just crossed the room and lay down, pulling the blanket over herself completely. Her disinterest was obvious, but also clearly fake.
Elaine turned back just in time to see Allan standing. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"The stream," he said simply. His answer was short, but at least this time, he gave one.
---
By the time the sun rose high in the sky, they had all left the town. The morning air smelled faintly of wet soil and burning firewood from the nearby huts. They had said their goodbyes to Simmy's father, thanking him for his kindness, and telling simmy on how they would Miss her.
It felt strange to part ways, even though they hadn't stayed long, there was a comfort in that small town, something that made it feel safer than the road ahead.
"Hey, Elaine," Leonard called out fondly as they walked along the uneven, deconstructed road. It was clear now they were leaving the rural areas behind, the trees thinner, the houses taller but still too dispersed.
"Hmm?" she hummed, turning her head toward him.
"Where exactly do you live?"
"Just the next town from here," she answered, pointing straight ahead. "Along the straight road, the fifth."
"Really?" Leonard asked, his eyes brightening. "Well, Helena and I don't live too far from there."
Elaine's head tilted in curiosity. "How far?"
"Just the thirteenth."
That surprised her more than she expected. Her heart warmed at the thought, it wasn't too far from the quiet isolation where she and her mother lived. Knowing she'd have someone familiar close by made her unexpectedly happy.
"What about him?" Leonard asked quietly, not wanting Allan to hear, though he had been listening to everything they had been discussing.
"Hm?" Elaine looked confused. "Who?"
"Your friend Allan," he said, glancing subtly in Allan's direction.
"W-well, um… he lives very, very close to me," she stammered, emphasizing the very a bit too much.
"How close?" Leonard asked, clearly amused.
"The sixth," she lied quickly.
"Oh," Leonard said, finally letting the topic drop.
Elaine, however, couldn't help but wonder where Allan really lived. She still remembered vividly the day they met, at the abandoned beach, the eerie stillness and beauty of that place, and the pretty cat with those strange green eyes. There was still so much she didn't know about him, and that mystery lingered at the edge of her thoughts.
---
It wasn't hard finding transport once they reached the developed part of the road. The ride was smoother than expected, windows rolled down, the wind brushing against their faces. The city stretched before them, alive and colorful but still lonely, not too different from the quiet simplicity of the town they'd left behind.
Hours passed. By noon, they had to part ways. It wasn't so sad this time, they all knew they could visit whenever they wanted.
Now, it was just Elaine and Allan.
The air around them felt heavier somehow, maybe because the silence had grown too comfortable. Her house was already visible in the distance, its mahogany porch gleaming faintly in the afternoon light. That was when the anxiety hit her, a sudden rush that made her heartbeat quicken.
She hadn't seen her mother in months. She wondered what she would say, or what she would think seeing her arrive with Allan beside her. Would she be angry? Surprised? Or simply relieved?
They stopped in front of the porch. The wooden door stood before them, polished and familiar, the scent of home somehow different now.
Allan waited patiently for her to knock. When she didn't, he raised an eyebrow.
"Aren't you going to knock?" he asked, a faint teasing tone in his voice.
Elaine smiled nervously. "I'm just thinking… maybe she isn't around, and—"
The sharp chime of the doorbell cut her off.
Her eyes widened in shock, pupils dilating as she turned to see Allan lowering his hand from the bell.
"What are you doing?" she whispered harshly.
"Helping you," he said innocently, almost smiling. He reached to press it again, but she quickly grabbed his arm to stop him.
Before she could scold him, the door opened slowly from the other side.
Elaine froze.
The familiar scent of the house hit her first—lavender and soap. Then she saw her, standing there with that same calm but slightly tired expression.
"Mum…" Elaine said softly, her voice trembling just a little.