“I had no idea you’ve felt this way about me, Camilla.” I try to hide my smirk, after implying this isn’t new.

I’M NOT LIKE YOU, HEATHER. I’M NOT A FUCKING QUE…

She trails off, a vacant stare in her eyes until she comes to. “GODDAMNIT I’M NOT GAY, HEATHER. YOU. DID. THIS. TO. ME.” She’s full on panting, now, overwhelmed, confused, and angry. “Why can’t I fucking hate you, anymore, Heather? Why don’t I see the same fucking nobody I did when I teased you in highschool?”

“I fucking hate you, Heather, but I want you. I hate that I want you. I hate that I can’t fully hate you anymore. What’s fucking wrong with me?”

“I had a date, thursday. Why can’t I even look at his photo without a sense of sheer apathy, and discontent? I thought he was a fucking 10 last week.”

“What did you do to me, Heather? And why do I fucking want your comfort?!”

My ears perk up. My comfort? …That wasn’t actually me.

“Every fucking night. I can’t stop dreaming about you. About you taking me. You being there… why can’t I stay angry… anymore..”

She trails off into a sniffle, giving up, and leaning gently against me, curled up and shivering from emotional tremors.

“…do you have a soft blanket…? I’m… cold..”

“..yeah, just a sec, it’s in my bedroom. Stay there, okay?”

“okay.” Despite her normally imposing figure, she seems… small, right now, both in stature and voice. I fetch a blanket from my bed, a fluffy light brown throw.

r-r–ring

The doorbell goes off, clearly pizza is here. I hand Camilla the blanket, and greet the delivery boy, taking the pizza and garlic knots, and wishing him on his way. (I tipped in the app, don’t worry!)

I set the pizza down on the coffee table, and sit back down, cozying myself against.. my highschool bully. Man that’s weird. Oh well. She’s miserable, and scared. I’m not a monster.

“It’s gonna be alright, Cammy. It’s not so bad. I promise. It’s alright.” I reach over to stroke her hair gently. She flinches, and begins to protest before giving in, and relaxing.

“I know you did this to me… I… why can’t I just hate you… it was so much simpler when you were just some loser q-… you get the idea. Fuck, you’re warm…”

“Be honest, with me Cammy.” She visibly reacts to me calling her Cammy, in a way only describable as flinching and relaxing. “Do you want to know what was, and wasn’t me? Because… I don’t think you’ll like the answer very much.”

“..what do I have to lose at this point? You have literally every incriminating thing I’ve ever done, a photo album’s worth of lewd pictures, and a magic unbreakable contract giving you magic control over me.”

“Would you like something to eat first, maybe a beverage? You seem like you could use the energy, dear.”

“I-… yes please. Just some water and a slice of pizza would be okay.”

“You got it.”

I fetch us two plates, and glasses of water. I put a tablespoon of lemon juice in mine, just because I think it tastes better, and bring it back over to the couch.

“Feel free to help yourself to some garlic knots too, alright?”

She weakly nods, before gingerly biting into a slice of pizza, still uneasy about the whole situation.

I start eating too, and we have dinner in awkward silence. Around 20 minutes later we both finish eating, and Camilla slumps up against me, somewhat tired.

“…If I don’t like what I hear… can you make me forget?”

“We’ll see. So, here’s the truth. The fantasizing, the lewd thoughts, those were me. Comfort seeking.. that’s not me, Cam.”

She begins stuttering before falling silent.