Chapter Text
Annabel sighed. She felt her body warming up as she sat on an armchair in the parlour wrapped in a blanket and Lenore brought her a cup of warm tea, she didn't even spare the woman a glance as she picked it up.
"Don't think you're getting back into my graces so easily, pet," She pouted with a red face as she almost burned her tongue.
Lenore shook her head before she joined her in a chair a few feet away with a light frown, one expressing regret and guilt over anything. Annabel thought she shouldn't be mad anymore. She felt it was quite childish, not at all fit for someone like her, and yet a small part of her heart was burning with irritation. Quite strongly, even if in the deepest and most hidden parts.
And for the first time in her life since she was a child not yet taught what would be an appropriate response to those feelings she decided to act on it.
"You know, pet, I truly don't understand the reasoning behind your actions."
"I am sorry," Lenore sighed. Annabel only looked at her in silence before she scowled. "Look, I didn't want to worry you or talk about this and I didn't think that would affect you so much. That's all."
Annabel's gaze continued to linger on Lenore as she set an empty cup down.
"Is that a delicate matter to you?"
"You could say so," Lenore shrugged as she turned her cane in her hand, turning most of her attention to it.
"Then you should have said that, I would have respected your comfort and privacy," Annabel puffed, as the last bits of anger left her eyes but her voice reeked of venom. "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."
Lenore's lips parted and shut down almost immediately after opening. She pressed her mouth into a line and continued to stare down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Annabel's hands around the empty cup's handle tightened and her shoulders tensed as the silence between them spoke more than words could.
A noise brought their attention to the cat entering the room to jump on an armchair and then climb onto Lenore's lap. Annabel flinched away.
"How does she love you and despise me so much?" She muttered under her nose, observing the cat purring as Lenore petted it.
"She isn't the most trusting of people," The cat owner replied in a quiet and gentle tone. Annabel raised an eyebrow.
"May I know why?"
"Yes, you may," Lenore mustered a tired but genuine smile. "I found her, probably not that long after she was abandoned as a kit. Morella helped me take care of her."
She stopped, slowly closing her eyes before she grinned at that memory and laughed.
"My parents were furious about me wanting to keep a cat."
"But they let you do that," Annabel titled her head.
"That's right. I almost had to fight them for it," She almost chuckled. "They weren't fond of that turn of events."
"Theo was the one who convinced them," Lenore added.
"Your brother? That must have been very nice of him," Annabel leaned on her arm with a gentle smile.
"Yes, it was. He got scolded in my place many times," She sighed. Her bleak eyes were unfocused, she mindlessly stroked the cat's fur.
"So she was abandoned," Annabel motioned to Catterina. Lenore was snapped out of her thoughts and raised her head with a blink.
"Probably, that's what I assumed," Lenore scratched the feline's head. "She seemed beaten and scared, I can only assume by some foolish humans. I have no idea what would have happened to her if I hadn't taken her in."
"Humans can commit rather inhumane acts," Annabel stated as she finished her tea. She couldn't deny feeling a hint of understanding for reasons she preferred not to dwell on. After that revelation, she thought it was obvious that the cat wasn't trusting of her, she was a stranger after all, and strangers are always a potential danger, are they not?
That's what she considered true.
"Alright, come on," Annabel shook her head and nudged Lenore's arm.
"What?"
"I'm hungry. You probably are too," She shrugged, getting up. "Let's make dinner before you get to yours."
Lenore raised an eyebrow as she her hand stayed still on Catterina's back.
"Didn't you say you prefer my cooking?"
"That's why we're going to do this together," Annabel would have grinned if she had any less self-control. Instead she only gently smiled.
"You're going to teach me."
"Really, from where do you keep getting all of these?" Annabel shook her head as she stared down at the ingredients lying in front of her.
They stood in the kitchen after Lenore grabbed all of the necessary items from the pantry just a few steps further. She smirked as she fixed the grip around her cane and leaned on the counter to roll up the sleeves of her shirt.
"My secret."
Annabel's eyes quickly went over Lenore's arms, not failing to notice marks of time and stories sprinkling her skin, dark moles like those on her cheeks, and faint scars of different types. She held back comments and turned to the vegetables, beginning to count them in her mind.
"You sure love to cook, pet," She glanced over the meat and picked up a bigger potato, checking its weight.
"For my friends, yes," Lenore nodded, balancing with her cane as she brought out a pot and a cutting board from a cabin hidden away in a corner. "I think I already told you that."
"You certainly did, on multiple occasions too, it's just nice to see you in action again, you know?" Annabel couldn't hold back a smile. Lenore didn't seem as amused as her at first but soon she cracked a grin.
"That's great to hear," She handed Annabel the cutting board and a knife she must have grabbed when the other woman was too busy staring off at vegetables and pushed potatoes to the side. "Now be a dear and peel and then cut these up."
Although Annabel's cheeks reddened, she followed the instructions. While she was doing what she was told, she kept glancing at Lenore, who was washing spinach while quietly humming a somewhat familiar yet foreign melody. They worked in a pleasant silence that was only disrupted by the sounds of metal clinking, a knife raising up and down with the tune of potatoes falling to pieces.
"Is this good?" Annabel asked. Lenore turned to her to get a good look at what she had done so far.
"Yes, Annie, it's perfect," Lenore almost shrugged before returning to her task of cutting the greens while Annabel's heart skipped a beat.
"Annie?" She repeated with heat rising from the depths of her chest to her face.
Lenore almost choked on her spit as she loudly coughed, probably pretending a fly flew down her throat.
She was stunned by that too.
"I mean, isn't that a common nickname?" Lenore shook her head as she avoided eye contact and hung her head low. "For both Annabel and Anna. Isn't it?"
Annabel stopped in the middle of cutting the last potato.
"It may be, yes. But that has nothing to do with you calling me pet names out of the blue," She accented the last part.
Lenore halted too. The two exchange an awkward stare.
"I think it's a fair game considering you've been calling me 'pet' since you met me," Lenore said. "Or perhaps you wanna be called something more unique, dove?"
Annabel's head shot up. With even redder checks, she tried to protest but was cut short.
"Now, we cook all of this together," Lenore motioned to the cut-up ingredients and stretched her arms out as much as she could without tripping. The sound of bones cracking like a symphony of skeletons followed suit. Annabel was mildly concerned.
The potatoes were thrown into a pot, sprinkled with some salt, and left to boil. Lenore in the meantime continued to give out orders on what the next steps were. Cut the meat, add and mix it with the rest of the ingredients, quite a simple recipe.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Annabel almost chuckled, a smile tugging at the sides of her lips as she brought out a plate with appropriate cutlery.
"I am not sure what you're trying to accomplish here, Miss Lee," Lenore's cheeks were pulled back in a smile as she was finishing preparing the meal. "But I can't help but find that side of you quite charming."
The smile dissipated from Annabel's face and was replaced by a more bashful expression. She felt like she was losing more of her mind with each day she spent with Lenore yet she never felt better. She shook her head.
"What do we do now?" She tried to look over Lenore's shoulder, swiftly changing the subject and not acknowledging what her dear housemate just said.
"Now cook the rest of it and then serve it," Her smile deepened as she playfully moved a step to cover Annabel's view as if the current state of her food was a secret. In turn, she hugged Lenore's waist and poked out her head from underneath her arm to glance at it. She winced, looking as if she had regretted doing that.
"Are you sure this is how it's supposed to look like?'
"Are you questioning my skills and my mother's recipe?" Lenore put her free arm on her hip as she raised an eyebrow, almost looking offended.
"Of course not, pet, I wouldn't dare."
Annabel had to admit that the potato and spinach mix didn't look the most appetizing but it sure smelled and tasted amazing.
She ate quickly, forgetting some table manners, she would have considered that completely inappropriate just a month ago. More than a month has passed since.
Lenore smirked under her nose as she pretended to drink tea while reading another book instead of watching her with some type of spark in her eyes that Annabel hadn't seen before. It was hard to ignore once she noticed it. She scoffed after she finished her meal and used a handkerchief to wipe her face.
"Was it good?" Lenore asked with a wide smile, shamelessly looking her up and down as if she were checking out her own next meal.
"It was delicious," She muttered without a second thought. "We should cook together more often."
"I think I would like that too," Lenore hummed. She wore a gentle face that made Annabel feel calm and nervous at the same time, as if her heart couldn't decide how fast it should beat at that sight.
"You mentioned this is your mother's recipe, right?" She inquired after a subtle cough.
"Yes, she would sometimes make it for us, that is me and my brother," Lenore explained, resting her chin on her hands."I cook it whenever I feel nostalgic. Or just miss Dutch food."
"Was your mother Dutch?"
"My grandparents were, they immigrated to America soon after they got married," Lenore shrugged and shook her head. "Started a company and such. It's not that interesting. And you? You're fully British?"
"As British as it gets," Annabel said with an exaggerated accent and snickered, unable to hold it back any longer after such tomfoolery. She regained some composure only after laughing at herself for some time. "You can't taste food though, you said that once."
"You sure have a good memory for things I say," Lenore laughed too. "I can't taste normal food, frankly, it tastes bad most of the time, but I can feel the texture and while it's not as sustainable as blood, I can still survive off it."
"So about your meal..." Annabel started and lightly tugged at her shirt with a flushed face, revealing her collarbone.
"How scandalous, Miss Lee," Lenore whistled, still smiling. "To think I am the one seeing such things and not your husband."
"You can always go to bed hungry."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, dove," Lenore waved her hand, her gaze turned soft at the last part. She grabbed her cane from under the table. "Shall we get going then?"
It was that time of the week again after all.
Not that Annabel kept a record and counted.
It wasn't that she was looking forward to it, it was a short but necessary moment of pain she was willing to put up with, for her own and Lenore's sake, but she wouldn't deny that she'd feel as if something was amiss if she skipped one day like this.
One with a fainter heart could grief over that, the pain, the discomfort, the numbness.
Annabel might have been too used to those things to mind them in the long run.
But somehow Lenore's cold lips on her neck soothed the aching the same way ice would do for a bruise. Tight hugs and quiet reassuring made her melt despite the lack of what a physicist would call warmth. Even when her voice sounded soft and comforting, her breath was freezing cold and sent shivers down Annabel's spine when she felt it on her skin, although that might have had a different reason than just the difference in body temperature.
"Lenore?" She quietly called out as she mindlessly brushed her hand through the other's hair, keeping Lenore leaning on her arm despite her being done with her dinner.
"Yes?"
"Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?"
Lenore blinked a few times and tilted her head. She rubbed her cheek off any traces of blood left and sighed.
"If you wish so."
Annabel hummed a "thank you" and let her hair loose before she wrapped her arms around a rather perplexed Lenore and almost tackled her, lying in silence nuzzled into her chest as she closed her eyes.
"My nightmares aren't as bad when you're around."
"Is- is that so?" Lenore stammered, trying to adjust her pose to a new type of weight resting on her body. "Most people would say I give them nightmares."
"I think –" Annabel slowly started, lifting her head to speak before putting it down again in a more comfortable position, "– that anyone can be a cause or a cure for someone else's nightmares."
Lenore's chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath, followed by a soft chuckle. An arm rested on Annabel's back and lightly tapped it.
"You have a rather poetic soul."
"Pathetic would be more fitting," Annabel snorted and buried her head between Lenore's neck and shoulder.
"Alles goed?"
Lenore waited a moment before Annabel raised her head again and gave her a very dazed stare with her eyes squinting.
"I can still speak a little Dutch, but my accent's rusty," Lenore chuckled. Her voice turned deeper when she spoke in another language, making Annabel question her own decency. "I used to speak it with my parents in private. I haven't used it in a while."
"How much can you say then?" Annabel carefully asked, propping herself up on her arm and accidentally pinning Lenore down, who only tilted her head and went silent as she thought. Then she smiled as if she had gotten an idea.
"Je hebt een schattige glimlach," She finally said.
"What does that mean?"
"You're pretty annoying sometimes," Lenore cracked into a deeper smile and patted her back. Annabel huffed and turned her face away from her.
"You can be quite a headache yourself, pet."
"You're not the first one to say that, dove."
Annabel puffed again and yawned. Lenore raised an eyebrow at that, still with a soft smile stuck on her face.
"Tired already?" She teased.
"Unlike you, I actually need sleep to function," Annabel grumbled, closing her eyes. "Good night."
Soon her breathing evened out and she could feel herself falling asleep, nested snugly in Lenore's cold arms. The first time it could have passed as a necessity.
Second, it might have been an incident.
This time, was unlike other ones though.
Annabel shut her eyes and didn't answer when Lenore gently called her name out, she only hugged her tighter. She heard Lenore sigh and give up on any more movement.
Then Lenore closed her eyes, relaxed, and began to quietly hum to herself as she played with a lock of Annabel's hair, twirling it around her finger in a very similar matter to that Annabel had done with hers before.
Lenore stayed with her for the whole night, unlike other times when she would leave before she had woken up.
Annabel realized that when she saw the handsome face of the woman sleeping right next to hers and felt cold hands hugging her around her abdomen as dim sunlight bled through the curtains in front of the window of her bedroom.
She held back a yawn and rubbed her eyes, then still only half-conscious smiled, looking at quietly snoring Lenore before she nuzzled into the arms around her.