27: Forgotten

                                    

                                          
Valentina
"So..." I said as I came home to my tiny flat. "Here: Two packets of boxers, some socks, a pair of shoes size 41, an M t-shirt, a large sweater and a very flexible pair of trousers labeled to be size M as well. And you owe me 85 euros."
I put the bags down in the middle of the only room.
Timothy looked at me meekly with an apologetic smile on his face. He accepted the receipt as I handed it to him. 
He was sitting on my bed in my old training pants, wearing my hoodie top and fiddling with his broken phone. His other possessions lay on my worktable: a slightly dirty passport and a map. 
I supposed he had gotten all three last night from the Queen.
"I truly owe you, Valentina. I did cook while you were out."
He gestured for the kitchen alcove.
"Thanks."
I averted my eyes as Timothy pulled my hoodie over his head.
There was a warm plate waiting for me by the sink. Timothy had obviously already helped himself to the warm vegetables, and was that tofu topping the dish? He had washed the only fork I owned, so I could taste a warm sliced potato.
"Mmm! You are not a bad cook, you know."
"What?"
I turned. Timothy had just gotten the sweater straight. His short hair was tousled. 
"What did you say?"
"That the combination looks horrible. I am sorry. Whoever planned that outfit must be half blind."
It was true. The sweater looked more like a sack than a shirt and the trousers were black and baggy. Combined with the dirty secondhand shoes... 
Timothy only gave me a half amused smile. 
"I'll pay you as soon as I come up with money. I promise. I just don't know yet how long it will take."
I brought the plate with me from the closet and sat on the bed. Timothy drew a pair of socks on. Then he turned to my worktable and snatched the map and the passport and put them into the paper bag in witch I had carried the clothes for him.
"You are really going?" I asked.
"Yeah. I can't stay here leaching on your hospitality. I'll... I'll figure it out. But not in your home."
He had folded my clothes and the silk robe onto my tv table.
"And where do you go from here, exactly?"
"To Hellebore."
"Why? Is it better in his home?"
Timothy shook his head.
"I need to see if he still remembers an arrangement we once made. If he doesn't... Well. I'll possible make a new deal with him."
I ate a piece of carrot in silence. It was surprisingly tasty. What had Timothy done to achieve such a flavor?
The young man sat on the ground against the toilet door to tie his shoelaces. 
"I know its small in here. But you can stay, you know? If you really feel you can go nowhere else."
Timothy lifted his eyes to mine. A trick of light cast an almost red tint to them. I knew it came from the TV. But suddenly I had the sensation I was looking Blizzard in the eyes. Or just Timothy, but in the years I hadn't seen him.
"I never told you... vampires can sense your feelings. You are generous in offering. But I know you don't like me staying here. I can feel it in your aura. We would drive each other mad in no time."