forty one

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do you know what this means
c h a m p a g n e p r o b l e m s































When Lilith woke up to sounds she didn't recognize, she stared at the ceiling to gain her bearings.

Those were interesting dreams. She forgot them all, but the sweat on her brow and frozen confusion in her veins were enough information she wanted.

And then she identified where she was and what was going on.

Her bedroom fan swirled pleasantly above her, and the dim sound of her music and, every once in a while, a small tap of kitchenware on the counters. Lilith slowly sat up; her back tight from the stressful night of mares and confusion. She stretched. A hum escaped her lips.

How, over the course of 6 months, did her body feel as if it aged ten years?

It was the anticipation of caffeine that pulled her out of bed; she remembered the cold brew she prepared the afternoon before. After pulling off her hoodie—the summer quickly approached; her room already baked with sunlight—she left the bedroom and found her same small speaker on the island playing the same playlist from yesterday. She forgot to turn it off.

Corpse didn't seem to mind. She watched him from behind as he continued to make them breakfast.

Over two weeks since he arrived and exactly two weeks since either of them heard from Dream, and somehow Lilith didn't want it any other way.

Her chest didn't ache when she woke up anymore.

When he turned and placed something in the sink, his eyes lifted and noticed her.

"Hi," he said sweetly.

"Hi."

Was it supposed to go like that?

Was it supposed to be this quick? For how long was she supposed to fester in anger and fear after losing a friend?

And Lilith winced. Perhaps the sadness didn't ache in her hollow chest anymore, but the dramatics weren't gone. Maybe her petty ass just needed a bite to eat.

"I was about to come get you. It's almost one."

"What the fuck?" Her scratchy voice caught her off guard as she sat at the island.

She wasn't tired.

Corpse gave her food and after a second, walked around the island to place his food and drink down. Just as she swung her leg over her chair to get up, he turned back around into the kitchen.

"Hold on." So she did and she watched him. He pulled out a cup and poured her coffee and her nails dug into the wooden barstool under her. Her thighs already left slick sweat to it. For a moment she though, did she need caffeine after all?

With the iced coffee pushed in front of her, her eyes locked on it until he sat next to her.

"What?" He laughed. She shook her head and then sipped it. "Not as good as when you make it?"

"Pf, what makes you think you know how to make my coffee? You don't even drink it."

"Maybe not, but it looks right."

It tasted as if she were the one who poured it.

In the days Lilith and Corpse worked, and when Lilith organized plans for the summer streams and events, she filled her life with the things she always dreamed of. A hole was there. A missing piece that she never anticipated be gone hung over her subconscious every time she scheduled a meet up, a stream, when she logged conventions in her calendar.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jan 26 ⏰

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