“You’re dripping,” Mira said.
Slim immediately stopped moving.
“…s…orry.”
“No,” she said, already grabbing a rag. “I mean like - more than usual.”
He looked down at himself.
Or at least sagged in that direction.
“…b…roke?”
“No, you’re not broken,” she said quickly. “You’d be trying to eat the chairs if you were broken.”
A pause.
Slim turned slowly toward a chair.
“Don’t even think about it.”

“You’re here every day now,” said Tomas.
Slim made a quiet noise from the corner.
“He’s not bothering anyone.”
“He’s in love with the oven.”
“He’s stabilizing,” Mira snapped.
Tomas blinked.
“…what?”
She pointed with her chin.
“He stops shaking when he’s here.”
Slim gave a small pulse.
“…y…es.”
Tomas stared at him.
“…that’s worse.”

“You don’t go anywhere else?” Mira asked that evening.
Slim wobbled.
“…l…oud.”
“The streets?”
“…p…eople.”
“That’s fair.”
She slid a bowl toward him. Empty.
He liked holding bowls. Said it helped him feel “contained.”
“…M…ira?”
“Yeah?”
“…w…hy… you… talk… to… me?”
She shrugged.
“You came in through the kitchen door. That’s like… legally binding friendship.”
A long pause.
“…t…hank… you.”
She didn’t answer right away.

“They’re watching you,” Tomas said quietly.
Mira didn’t look up from the bread.
“Who.”
“The Guild medic. Came by this morning.”
Slim went very still.
“…m…edic?”
“Relax,” she said. “He just asked questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“The kind where he doesn’t blink much.”
Slim’s surface rippled.
“…b…ad?”
“No,” she said, softer now. “Just… careful.”

“You’re taking from me.”
Slim froze.
“…t…ake?”
“Not on purpose,” she said quickly. “It’s just… when you’re here a long time I get tired.”
He started backing away.
“No, no - hey - Slim, wait.”
He stopped.
“…h…urt?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “You just… pull mana, right?”
A small nod.
“…c…an’t… stop.”
“I know.”
Another beat.
“…l…eave?”
She looked at him.
“…do you want to?”
A long silence.
Then:
“…n…o.”
Mira swallowed.
“Then don’t.”

“You’re glowing,” she said.
Slim panicked instantly.
“…s…orry.”
“I didn’t say stop.”
He hesitated.
“…o…kay?”
“Yeah.”
She held her hand out.
Slim looked at it like it was a test.
“…t…ouch?”
“If you want.”
Slowly. Carefully. He reached.
The surface of his arm dented against her fingers.
Cool. Soft. Like jelly left near an open window.
Slim made a quiet sound.
“…s…teady.”
“Yeah?”
“…w…hen… y…ou… here.”
Mira didn’t move.
“Good,” she said.
“Me too.”