Ignoring me, she pulls out her little mirror and uncaps the first stick, spreading the color slowly across herpouty lips. Her mouth takes on an entirely new shade, from a soft pink to a brilliant, blood red. It is the same color she had on the day I found her.
I busy myself with clearing a larger boulder out from the back wall and using it to fill in another small gap she might try squeezing through, only watching from the corner of my eye as she puts her shiny stick away and smacks her lips.
Next she adds a touch of cream to her face. Resting the mirror on the rock she’s bound to at night, she leans forward until her left eye is in front of it, then thickens her eyelashes with a black tube before switching her attention to the other eye. When she is done, she closes her mirror and places everything back inside the pouch she mostly keeps belted to her waist.
For how strange she is, tiny, with legs instead of a tail, and with little to no body armor outside of her clothing and footwear, her ever-changing face is enthralling to behold.
Beautiful.
Why she does this ritual every day, I do not know. But it is one of the only things she lets me see of her odd ways. Mostly, she requests privacy for her daily functions.
After she puts her footwear back on, she glances at me. When she notices me watching her again, she quickly looks away and gets to her feet.
I straighten, bracing for her to make a run for it—she only does so when her footwear is on—but then she merely bends down and picks up a small rock. Pinching it between her fingers, she tosses it into the water, briefly contemplating the ripples it makes. Then she picks up another and repeats the motion. After her fourth rock, I realize what she is doing.
She is helping me. Helping in an effort to lower my guard and make another escape attempt.
I find a large boulder and, rounding my arms around it, heft it up. Moving toward the entrance to the tunnel, I drop it amongst the others there, reminding her that I am aware of her ulterior motives. Because why else would she help me make the place safer for her if she does not plan on staying long?
When I look back to see her expression, I am surprised to find her eyes are not on me. Instead, she has turned away. Entirely oblivious to what I am doing, she picks up a rock at the edge of her hide and tosses it into the pool, immediately searching around for another. One by one she clears out everything around the place she sleeps, even shuffling the smallest pebbles into the pool with her boots.
Coiling my tail in and under me, I settle in to observe her unobtrusively. With a brief glance my way, she sighs, then continues until the entire area is clean except for the inevitable dust on the stone tile. She glances at me again before picking up the side of her hide and lifting it. I tilt my head, curious.
Taking the hide to the water, she shakes it out. Dust and dirt go flying.
I frown. I did not realize I had her resting on something so dirty. I had partially shaken it when she arrived… but that was days ago. Chagrined, I hiss.
She stops and looks at me again, pausing to see if I will do something.
Schooling the shame from my face, I settle deeper into my tail.
Her jaw ticks as she goes back to shaking out the hide.
The air is thick, tense, more so than it has been since her last escape attempt. Grazing my claws over my tail, mygaze trails after her as she carries the hide back to the same spot on the floor and spreads it out once more.
Afterward, she sits on it and faces me, and for a short time we watch each other. Neither one of us speaks as our eyes roam, sizing one another up.
Eventually, she opens her hands and shows me her empty palms. “I promise I won’t try again,” she says.
“We will see,” I say slowly.
“I’m too tired to do anything, trust me, and my body hurts like a bitch after… everything.” Rolling her shoulders, she yawns. I determine it to be genuine. “You’ve got me sealed in here tight anyways. What am I going to do? I’m stuck even if I get past you.”
“It does not mean you will not try if you think you can,” I argue.
She laughs though it is short and soft. “I guess you’re right. Still… it doesn’t change the truth.” She sighs and it sounds sadder and more remorseful than I expected it to. I scrutinize her face, except her expression is unreadable, blank behind her colors. “I’m not getting out of here, and unless I figure out a way to kill you, which I’m not sure is even possible anymore, I’m here whether I like it or not. So, Darolus, want to be my friend?”
Her pale green eyes meet mine, unclouded by lies. Narrowing my own, I try to figure out whether she is trying to trick me. No matter how it seems, she must be. I can find no reason for her question unless it is meant to do as I suspect and put my guard down.
Unfortunately for her, that will never happen. I have been on guard all my life. I was not called a monster without surviving many attempts on my life first—and those were not always because of my vast size.
But two can play these games of hers.
Perhaps I can convinceherto trustme.
“Friend?” I ask. “I do not want friends.”
“Well, you might as well try wanting one because I really need you to be my friend right now.”
