Kismet stood at the counter, fixated on the carrots. After pealing, she lined them up on the cutting board. She concentrated on the sound of the knife slicing through the thick vegetable. Nyx’s dark cherry aura pressed in on her. Not that the sensation was unpleasant, but was rather intense. Something surely troubled her, but Kismet used every ounce of willpower to stop the thoughts from slipping in.

“I didn’t get much chance to get groceries today,” said Nyx, pulling apart lettuce leaves for the salad. “I’ll grab stuff tomorrow. Anything you’d like me to get?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” said Kismet, flushing.

“So you don’t have any allergies, or any favorite foods?”

“No, I just love to cook. Get whatever you like, and I’ll make it for you.”

Nyx picked up the salad bowl, mixing the vegetables around. “Really?”

“It’s the least I can do.”

They continued to work on supper together. Even Nyx was awkward, rummaging around in cupboards she was not yet used to, maneuvering around a person she’d only just met. They made small talk to avoid falling into an awkward silence. Kismet focused on the food, finding comfort in the familiar routine and rhythm. No matter how new and strange everything was around her, this she could do.

Nyx stopped to watch Kismet season the chicken.

“You just know all this off the top of your head?” she asked.

“Once you do it often enough, it’s not hard.”

“Says you,” Nyx scoffed. “My poor mom tried to teach me. I’m not cut out for it, I guess.”

She pulled the chair out from around the small dining table and plunked into it. A miasma of magenta, navy blue and grey twinged through her aura. Earlier, while the siblings spoke in the house, Kismet had tried to push their conversation away, but gathered little crumbs. When she finally met Nyx on the deck, she recognized her from Alistair’s memory and despite wanting to keep out of their business, the tension permeated the air to the point it was nearly tactile, prickling her skin.

What is with this Angel guy? Honestly, I don’t think I wanna know. I have my own stuff to worry about.

When supper finished cooking, they sat down at the table with their plates. The scrape of forks on ceramic filled the silence. Kismet stared at her food as she ate, struggling against the push of Nyx’s emotions.

“This is really good,” said Nyx, startling Kismet from her reverie.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“So, um, where’s your stuff?” Nyx asked.

Despite the gentle tone, Kismet tensed, unsure how to explain, or where to begin.

“I don’t have anything,” she said, her eyes fixed on her salad.

“Oh, well then,” Nyx frowned in thought, “I can lend you some things?”

“You don’t -”

“What else are you gonna do?”

Kismet blushed and tucked her face into her hands. The cuffs of her sweater were shredded and torn, scratching against her skin.

“It’s ok,” Nyx said. “Let’s go upstairs and pick out some stuff.”

They finished eating and Kismet followed Nyx through the living-room to the stairs. She noted the similar lay-out to Daisy’s cabin. The houses on the island all seemed to have the same sort of structure with little variation outside of amount of bedrooms and colour.

Floorboards creaked and wobbled under her weight. Some would need to be replaced. Both women watched their step, careful not to slip. When they reached the top, a small square landing where there were only two doors to choose from. Nyx indicated the one on the left led to her bedroom, and the one on the right was a spare room for her drums.

They entered the drum-room where Nyx had stashed piles of boxes in the far corner. The drum kit rested on the opposite side. Dust lingered in the air along with the scent of pine floor cleaner. Nyx rummaged through the boxes while Kismet hovered behind. A pit twisted in the base of her stomach.

Nyx handed her a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. “Hopefully these will work for now.”

“Thank you.” Kismet could not meet her eye as she took them.

“I’m sorry I’m not very set up yet,” Nyx explained. “I just moved in this afternoon, so everything is a bit chaotic right now.”

“It’s alright, I’m the one imposing.”

…What is with this girl?...

Kismet blinked, trying to push away Nyx’s thoughts. All the questions Nyx wanted to ask joined the hive of whispers pressing at the base of her skull.

“Do you play?” she pointed to the drums, trying to change the subject.

Nyx shrugged. “A bit, but I’m not very good.”

The image of a dimly lit shed slipped into Kismet’s mind. The man she’d seen previously in Alistair’s memory, played guitar while she watched herself play drums through Nyx’s eyes. The man’s bright blue eyes blazed with intensity. Nyx’s heart raced, arms aching as sweat dampened the back of her neck. She easily kept up with his quick, heavy chords. They each fit together, each anticipating the others next move, embellishing and building on what the other created.

“You ok?” Nyx asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry.” Kismet blinked, rubbing her eyes. “I’m just tired I guess. So, you like music then?”

Nyx grinned. “That’s putting it mildly. Who do you listen to?”

“Cosmic Death Bunnies.” Kismet couldn’t help but return her smile.

“I love those guys,” Nyx exclaimed, brightening. “Did you want to check out my CD collection? There might be some in there you like. You’re welcome to borrow them so you don’t have to listen to the same old one over and over.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

She returned to the boxes and began to dig until she pulled out a thick fabric binder with CDs tucked inside plastic sleeves. They sat cross-legged on the bare floor and sifted through the collection together. Kismet recognized most of the albums. Bright green flashes of enthusiasm glittered through Nyx’s aura and Kismet was more than happy to listen to her gush over each one. It did a lot to take her mind off of Kevin.

If movies are to be believed, I should be ripping up photographs. What if this is a mistake? I haven’t been here for a day yet and I’ve already caused so much trouble.

It struck her as surreal how she could be on the mainland in her own apartment one minute, and scrounging through CDs with a stranger the next.

A stranger that’s shown me more generosity and kindness than anyone ever has. Well, except for maybe Alistair. If not for him, I’d have ended up back on the street.

“Oh, this one!” Nyx cried, sliding a CD out of its protective plastic. When she held it out, Kismet saw it was a copy of Cosmic Death Bunnies’ second album. “We got this when it came out and listened to it in Alice’s car a million times. He almost banned us from playing it anymore. Angel and I -”

…knew every word… I’d try to sing it with him, but I’d rather just listen…

Nyx’s face fell. Navy blue ribbons slithered through her aura again, tinged with wisps of ash grey. Not meeting Kismet’s eyes, she slipped the CD back into its place and closed the binder. She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“You’re welcome to borrow them anytime.”

“Is everything ok?” Kismet asked.

“Oh, yeah, totally fine.” She stood up to put the binder away. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but I heard about Angel earlier.”

A flicker of burgundy fear flashed through Nyx’s aura, but Kismet couldn’t discern why. Especially since Nyx tried to appear so casual.

“Oh?”

“I’m glad it seems he’s alright now, though?”

“Yeah,” Nyx sighed, pushing her short pink hair out of her face. “What do ya say we get to bed?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Kismet got up and followed Nyx down the stairs to the living-room. It was much darker than they had left it. After the bustling sounds of the city, the silence was eerie. Peep-toads and crickets could be heard singing through the still open window. Even the faded waves on the shore rolled in the distance. She clutched her borrowed pajamas and ducked into the washroom to change.

Nyx was a taller, more voluptuous woman than herself. The t-shirt came to her thighs and the cuffs of the loose pajama pants dragged along the ground, so she rolled them up the best she could.

When Kismet stepped out, Nyx sat in the armchair with her feet tucked beneath her. Now dressed in her own set of pajamas, a t-shirt and cotton shorts, she held a cigarette between her fingers, blowing the smoke out of the open window. She turned when Kismet entered the room.

“I hope you don’t mind?” she asked, indicating the cigarette.

“It’s your house.” Kismet shrugged, plunking into the makeshift bed on the couch. Finally at rest, her body protested and ached. Her CD player and headphones were where she’d left them on the coffee table. She put them in her lap for comfort.

“I don’t mean to be invasive, but um, I’m not sure how to put this politely.” Nyx looked away, scratching the back of her head. “Why are you here? Why now? Most mutants born to humans get sent to The Academy, hell, most mutants born on the mainland period, are sent to The Academy. So what happened? If you’ve been on the mainland this whole time, why not continue to just blend with the humans?”

Kismet’s chest tightened. She clutched her CD player close to her heart.

I guess I have to explain myself somehow, but what can I say?

“I tried,” Kismet said, nearly whispering. “I really did for a long time, but it wasn’t enough. My boyfriend, Kevin, cheated on me and then found out about my powers, he tried to - he tried to -” It was too difficult to say, the words would not pass through the lump in her throat.

Wasn’t he supposed to love me? Didn’t I love him?

Nyx’s emerald eyes glimmered in the faint light coming in from the street. She watched Kismet intently.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked-”

“No, you have every right to,” Kismet said, a tear sliding down her cheek. She studied her lap, the plastic contours of the CD player, the cord to her headphones… “I’m a stranger in your home and you deserve to know why I’m here.”

I wish I could tell you everything.

She took a deep breath and continued. “He wanted me to sell my powers somehow. So when he fell asleep, I escaped out the window.”

“The window?” Nyx gasped. “Trafficking powers is super illegal. You could report him to Watcher Liz if you wanted to?”

Kismet shook her head. “Wouldn’t Ivy, ya know, suck his life out or something?”

“I doubt it,” said Nyx. “Especially since he didn’t manage to do it, just planned it, but still. He’d get in a lot of trouble for sure.”

“I don’t want that,” Kismet twisted the throw blanket in her hands. “You may think it’s strange, but I still care about him.”

“That’s not strange at all.” She crushed out her cigarette in the ashtray. A grey cloud shifted through her aura. “I get it.”

The sadness wafted off Nyx in navy blue wisps and Kismet felt a kindred spirit in the second-hand heart ache.

“Does it ever get better?” Kismet asked.

“I wish I knew,” said Nyx with a shrug.

The disjointed images and clips of thought Kismet gathered from Alistair and Nyx had begun to paint a particular picture, but she hadn’t quite figured Angel out yet.

“What did he do?”

Nyx grabbed her pack of cigarettes off the edge of the coffee table and slid one out. “Recently? Do you want a list?” she laughed. “He’s been trying my patience for years, but I love him so much it’ll be the death of me, I’m sure. I could live with everything else if only he’d settle down and be serious for a minute.”

…I just want to matter to him enough that he’ll want to straighten out… Can’t he want a relationship more than he wants his own destruction?... I just want him to love me too…

She leaned forward, cupping her hand around the end of her cigarette to light it. The small burst of flame danced in her eyes for a second before it flicked out again.

“When we were in school, I refused to fight for his attention. Between all the other, prettier girls, the parties, I’m surprised he noticed me at all,” she grumbled. “We’d been friends for so long I thought maybe I’d become more like a permanent fixture, like the sofa or something. So when he finally looked at me…” Neon pink shot through her aura, mingling with the myriad of other colours. She sighed and it dissipated. “I’ve come to realize taming him is futile. It’s like trying to swallow the sun. Not something anyone should even try to do, but here I am. So stupid.”

“Kevin was kinda like that too, in a way,” Kismet confessed. “He wasn’t so charismatic, I don’t think. Kinda sulky and sullen, really. I guess it tricked me into thinking he was smart or something, all broody and artsy, when he was actually only about as deep as a puddle.”

Nyx laughed. “Hope he was at least like one of those pothole kinda puddles? They have some kinda depth.”

“Not even.” Kismet flopped down on the couch, tugging the throw blanket up to her chin. “I think he only liked me when he couldn’t have me. At the time, I lived alone. Just me and my books. I wasn’t interested, but he was so persistent. Then… nothing.”

I never should have moved in with him. I should have stayed in my own place. Just me and my books forever. Do the princesses ever miss their towers? They never speak about what happens once the prince takes her home. What does a coveted treasure become when it's possessed? Never spoken of again. That's what.

Nyx crushed out her cigarette. She got up, stretching. Her long, feline movements reminded Kismet of Alistair.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed and let you get some sleep. Help yourself to water or anything you want.”

… Angel may be a jackass sometimes, but at least he can be quite sweet when he wants to be… Poor Kismet, she didn’t deserve to go through that… I’m glad Alistair found her…

“Thanks again for having me,” said Kismet, hugging tighter to the blanket. “I truly appreciate it.”

“It’s actually kinda nice to have someone other than my siblings to talk to about this sorta stuff. I’m sorry you had such a terrible time and I hope things get better,” said Nyx. “Good-night.”

Nyx excused herself to bed, and Kismet stared at the blank wall. Sleep came far faster than she expected. Right before slipping away, it dawned on her that she was not wearing her headphones.