Page 12 of Right Next Door
Just turned and left!
“I just thought there’d be more, you know?” She said, looking at the General as he investigated that clearly suspicious, black cat in the large mirror along one wall. “He really just said, ‘hi, bye’. I’ve had more in-depth conversations with people at drive thrus!”
The suspicious cat in the mirror was getting more threatening. Tail poofing up, back arching. The General growled at himself as his doppelganger became much scary, very threat.
Misty sighed, resting her chin on her hand, elbow on her leg. She was sitting cross legged in the corner, leaning against the wall. This place smelled nice, it looked pretty. Everything was whiteand pale blue, sparkling with a silver sheen that made it shine without being overly obnoxious. It was a great bathroom – privy – and even bigger than the living room in her last apartment.
And she was focused on aguy.
Ugh, that was annoying.
“I think I’m just disappointed,” she said out loud, trying to justify herself as The General and The Anti-General paced back and forth, checking each other for openings. “Like, I was coming all the way out here, expecting this grand romantic moment. I didn’t think he’d go down on one knee immediately or anything. I’m notthatdelusional. But I did kind of think he’d show more interest than a cashier to the next guy in line.”
The General charged, but The Anti-General blocked his attack perfectly. They smacked at each other, predicting each other’s movements so flawlessly they just kept blocking their otherwise vicious and ruthless strikes.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Misty mumbled.
Maybe that whole ‘confine your cat to one room’ thing was meant for cats with more than one brain cell bouncing around, trying desperately to escape the harsh working conditions through their ears. The General didn’t seem scared or uncertain about his new place at all.
Maybe that was just Misty.
She sighed, crossing her arms and dropping her head back against the wall with a dull ‘thud’.
“Now what…” She muttered to herself.
There was no doubt that this manor was gorgeous and comfortable. She had more space in her suite of rooms than two of her old apartments combined. She had a whole staff dedicated to serving her. Davard had introduced her to the most important ones, including the chef, who immediately asked a few questionsto get an idea of what she liked to eat – anything, she wasn’t picky, she didn’t have any intolerances.
He told her that she was free to do with the manor whatever she liked. It came fully furnished, but she could change any and everything to suit her needs. She could also visit the Glass Manor – Tsok’s manor – just across the way whenever she liked. He’d given her permission to come and go as she pleased – Davard told her that, not Tsok. But it wasn’t really appealing to go over there and beg for his attention like a lonely lap dog.
So, then what?
She had a fuck ton of money now. She knew how much her savings converted into when Ambassador Tzomei transferred them into Coalition currency, and she knew it was a couple of pennies compared to what her allowance was while here. She had an account already with a whole lot of good in it, but no idea of what she wanted to spend it on. No idea of what she wanted to do with it. Davard told her she’d get more in five tendays – fifty days – and that honestly seemed like a threat.
Was she really sitting here complaining about a mansion and more money than she could spend?
No. She let out a long breath. She was complaining because she felt like a frayed rope, hanging in the air, nothing to hold onto, no purpose, no direction. She didn’t have a job, or any idea of what she could do here. She had her cat, and that was great, but she didn’t have any friends, any connections, any idea of what she was doing.
Her mate was supposed to show her all that. Tzomei told her that her mate was something like her official sponsor – which was what the rare human who left Earth without being mated needed to have. It was someone meant to take care of them and get them safely set up so they weren’t like her – frayed and broken and twisting helplessly in the air.
Alone.
She was all alone here. Hiding in the toilet like the unpopular girl at school, just trying to stay away from prying eyes and wagging tongues. Except, she didn’t even have that. The staff was proper and polite, giving her plenty of space. Davard dropped her off at her room after the tour and left, telling her to summon him if she needed anything. Her mate was just gone.
And now…
It was the first chance she’d had to really rest since she’d been dragged out of her bed in handcuffs, and the weight of everything was finally settling. And it was discomforting. She wished she had someone to talk to. To tell her it would be alright. To sympathize even if they couldn’t empathize.
Anything.
But her mate, apparently, didn’t actually care about her.
So, that brought her back to her original question. Now what?
She frowned, thinking of all the things that led her here. The snap decision, the complete abandonment of her life, her last friend’s betrayal.
Officer Prickhead, sneering at her across the table.
She snarled.
