Chapter Text
“Does that settle it for introductions?” Vivian asked, lips curving upwards on the sides. It was an unsettling smile.
A voice rang out playfully from behind Vivian. “You missed something.”
Vivan turned around. The voice came from the doorway. A girl stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, eyes sharp and assessing, but also playful. She was tall and slender. Vivian could tell there was a lot of control over what was written on that girl’s face. She wore a red dress.
Red, Vivian thought to herself. It really suited her.
“Did I?” Vivian asked.
Lia stepped closer to her. “You read how they fight, not why.”
Vivian could see her blue highlights. That person had always wanted blue highlights, she thought wistfully.
“That doesn’t matter to me,” Vivian said. “Never has.”
“Lia,” Michael said, with a note of something Vivian struggled to place in his voice. “Perfect timing.”
Lia didn’t respond to him, instead fixing her gaze on Vivian. “You’re good, glasses.” She hummed. “Not perfect though.”
Vivian looked at her for a moment. “No one is,” she said quietly.
“Lie,” Lia sing-songed. She tilted her head in a controlled movement. Vivian’s chest tightened. It really did remind her of someone else.
Vivian’s hand strayed towards her left arm but she didn’t touch the blade. She wouldn’t reveal it until she needed to. She huffed out a small sound of laughter, carefully crafted to be seven parts real, two parts fake, and one part awkward.
“Vivian Doe,” she said, extending her hand out. “I read violence. What about you?”
Lia ignored the hand, and after a beat, Vivian withdrew it naturally. “Lia,” she said. “I guess you could call me a living lie detector.”
They returned to where Briggs and Judd were talking together. Judd looked up as she walked in on quiet footsteps. “Vivian, I’ll show you to your room,” he said. Lia followed as they walked.
Vivian nodded wordlessly and followed after him. Judd’s footsteps were even. Just heavy enough to be normal but light enough to be almost imperceptible. They stopped in front of a closed door. “You’ll be rooming with Lia for the time being. The other room doesn’t have a bed set up yet.” Judd told her. Vivian nodded.
Judd spoke with a kindness that Vivian felt uneasy with. As someone who moved as easily as breathing, he really was so kind. It reminded Vivian of her. She shook that thought off.
“I’ll show you in, new girl.” Lia said, opening the door.
The room felt too small for two people. Lia’s stuff was all over the room. Messy, Vivian noticed.
Lia didn’t say anything, as Vivian set her bag down on the wooden floor. She didn’t have many possessions, just the important ones.
“You take that bed,” Lia said finally. After that, Lia went to her side of the room, movements quiet and controlled.
Too quiet, Vivian thought. She didn’t like it. Vivian nodded and shuffled over to set her stuff down. She also didn’t like the way her eyes kept following her.
“You stare a lot,” Vivian said, her back turned to Lia.
Lia snorted. “So do you.”
Lia sighed and got up. “I’ll go see what’s for lunch.”
Vivian didn’t respond and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing her fingers on the blade. The cool metal always felt comforting. Suddenly, she hissed, and pulled her fingers back.
Blood, ruby red, shining, beautiful, welled up in a bead. Vivian stared at it with fascination. She took off the glasses, throwing the thick lenses behind her. The glasses blurred the edges of everything. That was the point.
As Vivian found a tissue to staunch the bleeding, Lia sauntered back in. “Sandwiches today,” she said. “Aren’t you just quivering with excitement?”
As she walked in, she casually pushed the door shut. Vivian stiffened and shot to her feet as she heard the click of a lock.
Lia eyed her and didn’t say anything. Her brown eyes watched carefully as Vivian’s palmed the blade.
Suddenly, Lia spoke. “You feel safer with it?”
It was a quiet question. It wasn’t mocking. It should have been harmless, but something about it hit close to home.
That tone, the exact same tone. A memory flicked into Vivian’s mind.
A whispered question, “You feel safer with it?”. Concrete, blood, a body learning close to her. Pain.
Vivian’s body reacted before her mind caught up. She stepped forward in one fast motion and caught Lia’s wrist lightly but firmly, pinning it to the wall with precision. Habitually, she let her own hand take the impact. She adjusted instantly. It was a reflex, not thought. Just enough movement to warn, not hurt.
Vivian’s pulse roared loud enough to drown thought.
“Don’t say that,” she gritted out.
Lia didn’t struggle out of her grip, though she could have easily broken free.
Then, she smiled. “Looks like someone doesn’t actually need glasses.” A pause.
Her eyes met Vivian’s, her brown eyes steadily gazing at Vivian. There was no fear in that gaze. Vivian didn’t understand why. Her eyes were the color of oak.
That made it worse.
That made it so much worse.
Because…
Because she looked exactly like…
Vivian bodily flinched and let go, stepping back as if she had been burned. Her hand over her mouth, she looked like she was going to be sick. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Lia retracted her wrist, and glanced at it once, then back to Vivian. Like she was noting something, not reacting to it. Lia flipped her hair. “New girl, you aren’t the only Natural here.”
Vivian found her eyes tracking Lia’s wrists. Good. She was okay.
“I know,” Vivian said. “You just remind me of someone.”
“In a good way?” Lia asked.
Vivian shrugged. “Maybe.” She averted her gaze and reached for the glasses on the bed, adjusting her hair. Nothing out of place. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders.
Breathe, Vivian, she told herself. It’s okay.
She heard the door open. Lia had unlocked it. “Sandwiches are still probably awful, by the way,” Lia spoke. “Judd’s plenty of things, but a sandwich chef? Not so much.”
Vivian forced a laugh out. “I guess I’ll try it for myself.”