Wilona's P.O.V
"No one." I dismiss with a wave, letting Sassy wander away and following her lead to escape Blue's scrutinizing gaze.
I advertise myself as falsely busy, shifting things around in the shelves that didn't need to be shifted, all the while avoiding Blue's intent gaze that stuck to me.
"I'll let you off this time, but I will find out," Blue promises and I sag immediately, relief climbing onto me.
"I don't doubt it." I retort through a nod.
I wouldn't tell Blue it was because for Damon, because for one, there was nothing to tell. Damon was a friend I was taking a liking too, in a way I didn't want to but couldn't fight no matter how hard I tried.
Plus, Damon was a guy. I'd be a fool to share that fact with Blue, no matter how sweet he may be.
There was always the chance that it was an act, people may appear to be all accepting and loving these days but they weren't. They were indulging that's all. They were keeping up appearances while screaming words of disgust when no one could hear.
I'd learnt my lesson about trust and it was one I didn't need to retake ever again.
I wince slightly at the loud thump of the wood beneath the book I'd shoved into its space, Nice Wilona fading with the memories quickly rippling over. I glance up at Blue to apologize but he was already preoccupied with a loving Sassy.
I let my lips tug at the sight, grabbing onto Nice Wilona for just a moment longer.
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I wait a moment longer outside the shop, cursing myself the entire time as I glanced around as if I could tell anyone of the people in the area apart from one another.
It was stupid and honestly, pitiful to be as disappointed as I felt when I began walking, looking at Sassy trod in front of me.
Sassy was getting bigger, so big that things had to be placed on higher shelves because her tail had a tendency to wack things down.
She'd gotten a bigger bed, one that made her look tiny in it but would fit her perfectly when she grew into it. She was a happy dog when she wasn't being a little stuck up.
She was attentive and quick to take her second form as a living barrier when it was necessary. She formed a habit of separating me from anyone she didn't favor by using her body as a wall. I loved her for it, it'd knocked down the probability of me touching someone.
"Pick up your phone Wilona." My phone blares with Francis' deep voice. "I'll keep calling until you do. Pick up your phone Wilona. I'll keep calling until you do."
"Hey," I answer the moment the phone reaches my ears, feet stopping at the first traffic light.
"Wilona." Francis greets, his hard tone softening for me. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. Just as fine as I was yesterday and the day before." I reply, glancing across the road a few times before crossing. Francis knew that despite my teasing, I was eternally grateful for his every day phone calls.
"Well, you do sound a little bit more 'fine' than you did the day before." He retorts, his teasing making me snort helplessly. "Are things still going well with Blue's? He's not taking advantage of you is he?"
"No Francis." I dismiss quickly. "I'm working okay hours and he's been nothing but helpful. He's started back his evening shares now that he's convinced his wife, Madeline, is okay."
"Just making sure," Francis grumbles, his doubt casting bright. "And Sassy?"
"Just as Sassy as always," I reply through a laugh which he picks up on his end. "They giving you trouble home, you just tell me and I'll deal with it."
"I'm doing absolutely fine Miss." Francis replies with dissolve, using 'Miss' like he did when he felt it was important to remind me we weren't only friends but that he still worked for my family. "I'm just as fine as I was yesterday."
"Haha, Francis," I counter dully. "You're humor is seriously unmatchable."
"You're mother's approaching," Francis warns, voice deepening as he hardens himself. "Call if you need anything, I will answer Wilona."
"Thanks, Francis," I reply before hanging up and tucking the phone back into my pocket.
My smile doesn't falter despite how brief the interaction was, it may have been short but it was just as important to me as it always was. Sometimes we spoke for hours, sometimes only a minute to just say hi. Either way, Francis always a point to check in on me every day, even though he didn't have to.
It was one of the kindest acts I'd ever witnessed from another person, so pure and natural that it gave me hope in this fucked up world.
Francis was happily married and had two daughters who absolutely adored him, he had a life and a home. He didn't need to call, he didn't have to check in with me like he would his child, but he did.
He took me in as his own, in a weird yet perfect relationship that I wouldn't give up for anything in the world.
"Will!" I stop immediately at the sound of the familiar voice I was growing to love.
I turn to find blue eyes swirling as Damon ran to catch up to me. He slows as he gets closer, blurry whites showing to hint at a smile. I return it without thinking, he brushes his tousled hair back from his face as he pants breathlessly.
"Sorry, I got distracted." He apologizes, bringing himself close enough to touch but he didn't. Damon never touched me, he always left that discussion to me and never argued with either choice I made.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," I reply with a small laugh, stifling my wanting response in favor of a more normal one.
I press myself up on my toes, raising a hand to brush away the black strands which had fallen back into his face. My fingers brush against his forehead, clearing the blurry image of him to make room for the more favorable one. I search his sparkling eyes, catching the way they seem to glow and flicker with a need all too similar to the one which flooded my veins.
I let my gaze linger for a moment longer before settling back down to my lower level, taking my hand away and turn back to my path. Content with the brief glimpse of him that I'd seen, my smile only widens when Damon rushes to slip into step beside me.
I look to the ground in efforts of hiding it, following my feet instead of the will of my thumping heart.
"So, what did you get distracted by?" I ask when I've collected myself enough to formulate words.
"A book," He replies, lifting one in his hand for me to see. "I went to the bookstore, thought I'd try one. I haven't really read anything just for fun in years."
"Why not?" I question, eyes tracking him as we walked in sync.
"Banshee." He replies slowly as if saying the word hurt him like the cause seemed to. I drop my shortlived investigation into that route and try another.
"What book did you get?"
"The Name of the Wind." He fills in, his voice no longer strained with memories. "It's a fantasy."
"I would've pegged you more for a horror type of guy," I reply with a raised brow, surprise not even beginning to cover it. "Fantasy would have never crossed my mind."
"They're not realistic enough." He replies, his answer only furthering my confusion. "Nothing really is unless it's a true story. So, I drift towards the complete opposite, I know it's not realistic so it's tolerable."
"I didn't get a single word of that so I'm just going to nod, smile and act as if I do," I reply before proceeding to do just that. This makes Damon laugh a little as he glances at me with a smile I wanted to keep there.
"I like the new worlds they create, there's no room for judgment because it's fabricated." He says in a valiant, second effort to explain once more. "This one is good so far."
"Well, that's all that matters," I reply while pressing up on my toes in a stretch and sigh. "What do you want to cook tonight?"
We'd fallen into an easy routine of spending our evenings together, cooking or ordering in and just talking. Getting to know one another as much as we could, within the refines of 'banshee' and self-control on my side. That last part was only getting harder the better I got to know Damon.
"I was thinking," Damon starts, his steps faltering for a moment as he pauses on his words. "Maybe, we could eat out today, if you want to."