"I'm hungry," Evelyn mentioned once again as she swung her legs, slightly swaying her head from side to side with a rather comfortable expression.
Right behind her was... *Sniff... sniff...* like a cockroach enjoying a grand feast, rolling around on my bed — on *my* bed, mind you, an important detail to note. She wrapped herself in my sheets, her eyes glinting sinisterly. "It smells like Arthur..." she murmured strange things. I let her do whatever she wanted — if she's happy, I suppose it's fine. Shifting my gaze back to Evelyn... she's the more normal one, I guess. She just asks for food and is content. Thinking for a moment, I walk over to my fridge.
Looking inside, "There are ingredients to make something." Luckily, I can cook — one of the advantages of living alone.
Turning back to Evelyn: "Anything in particular?" I ask while putting on an apron.
