A day late, also I wrote only around 300 words yesterday, so I’m currently behind (in my defense, it was because Natalie was doing some divination and I, as the author, don't really know how that works). Anyway, here’s an excerpt from like, day seven or something.
He was very plain, to her eyes. He was tall, but not any taller than anyone else she’d ever met, so it was more likely that he was simply taller than her (which wasn’t a difficult feat). He was neat, from the top of his head to the soles of his shiny black shoes, dressed like a business man, save for the coat that she still had around her shoulders. His face had no real defined features, though his nose was a bit pointed and hooked, and both his hair and eyes were dark. He looked plain and like he had money.
In that sense, he looked more like someone she would steal from in the farmers’ market, not someone that said “Oh, I see” when she mentioned life force and requisite ingredients. The entire time she spent waiting for him in front of his house, she was going through how she was going to explain everything in her head. She had been convinced that he wouldn’t believe her, that she would need to demonstrate something to convince him. After all, Lilith had always told her that regular people didn’t know anything about magic, and they didn’t want to know, that they wouldn’t believe her even if she wanted to tell them all about the coven and what they were trying to accomplish.
Now that she was thinking about it, it was more likely that she’d told her that to make sure she didn’t say anything to anyone.
“I don’t particularly mind being the more talkative of the two of us, but at some point, it does feel as if I’m speaking to a brick wall.” Tom spoke again, sighing. “At least nod or something, so I know you’re listening to me.” Natalie nodded, and he seemed at least somewhat placated, a small pucker of his lips indicating that he wasn’t entirely satisfied, but he didn’t complain about it either. She had expected him to argue with her a little bit (or argue at her, anyway), but he just continued driving.
“It looks like we’ll have no choice but to stay together for the duration of this ‘effect’, whatever it may be, until it wears off.” He heaved a big sigh. “If it wears off.” He said, quieter that time, finding the idea that it might not wear off terrifying. Then he waited. After a few seconds, he sighed again. Natalie got the feeling that she was going to become very familiar with that sound. “I thought you were going to be nodding?” he said, glancing in her direction. She frowned.
“You didn’t seem to like it when I did.” His dark eyes widened a little at her response, clearly not having expected her to speak, before her answer registered with him. He seemed to find it a little funny, though he was trying to hide it.
“Humor me. The situation is already strange enough, I’ll feel like I’m losing my mind and talking to myself if you don’t do at least that much.” She nodded again, and he nodded in return, wearing what she would consider to be a bizarre expression. Regardless, he continued speaking.
“You can stay with me in my home for the time being. I don’t have any more time tonight to discuss things as I do have work in the—” Tom stopped midsentence, slamming on the breaks and jostling Natalie in her seat. She turned to look at him, eyes wide and surprised, and His head was against the steering wheel. He was groaning, sounding like he was in physical pain. “Oh, my god what am I going to do about work tomorrow?” he was speaking into the steering wheel, and from the sound of his voice, she wondered if he was actually in pain, but when the car began to move again, she dismissed this thought.
“Could you take the day off? Until we figured it out?” Natalie asked. She didn’t know what he did for a living, but she was sure that it couldn’t be more urgent than figuring out how to deal with their mutual problem. Tom made another noise of discomfort.
“If I’m not there, there’s at least a forty-percent chance that the bank will burn to the ground.” Natalie couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” She asked. He looked at her from where he was, his neatly combed hair now slightly mussed.
“You don’t work at my bank.” His voice was flat, defeated even, and she laughed again. “I’m glad that you’re finding my dilemma amusing at least.” He most definitely did not sound glad. Quite the opposite, in fact.
