It's under the white fluorescent lights of Walmart, that Willow became sure that her new roommate wasn't entirely human. It was the little things, really. For instance, he was a bit too clever. Always an answer at the tip of his tongue, never running out of words. And yet, she didn't even know his last name. Somehow, he always got what he wanted, whether he used his mouth or his looks.
Those were another dead giveaway. His face was a moving Bernini sculpture, and it contorted in disturbing ways depending on his expression. Smiles that seemed to stretch up to his eyes, sneers that showed fangs and a nose scrunched up like a dog. The way he moved wasn't fluid per se, but rather as a puppet being lifted by strings, limbless and nonchalant. His laughter was high and shrill, violin cords shaking under the force of a bow. An impressing collection of dried flowers by his window sill, his obsession with honey, the passion with which he defended the environment, it all added up.
Not to mention, how he didn't dare come close to the pans she was examinating for the flat. Pans, pots, forks, spoons: if it was iron, he didn't want no part with it. Said he prefered plastic or wood.
"Hey, Bran, can I ask you a stupid question?"
"You may, but I don't promise an answer in return."
"Are you a fae or something?"
He was silent for a few seconds, before bursting out laughing. The violin shaking.
"Where did that come from?"
"You didn't answer."
"Do you actually expect me to?"
"It's a yes or no question, wouldn't do you any harm to answer," she looked at him then, pan in hand, brows furrowed. They must've made quite the picture, her interrogating her roommate with a pan for weapon. Him, frozen to his spot, chest puffed out, but with a faint nervous twitch in his eyes. "Would it?"
"I refuse to answer to something so pointless."
"Fae then," his body was taut with anger and indignation "It's alright, I respect that. We'll have to establish some extra rules, though..."
He looked as if considering this, before snorting in disgust.
"I don't know what amazes me more, mortal. Your ability to see through the glamour, or how little you actually care about it."
"In this economy, one can't get too caught up in the details," Willow shrugged, pushing the cart away. "First rule, if I ate some of your ramen the other day, does that mean my soul belongs to you?"
"You what? I- I mean, probably, but I really don't want to own your soul."
They received a few questioning looks at the self check-out, as they discussed the intricacies of whether he could ever harm her if she didn't do the laundry on time. They bought more ramen, a plastic pan, toothpaste, oranges, and of course, a gallon of honey.
Once they made it home, they sat atop the car bonnet and watched the sunset. His face looked much softer, now reflecting mauve and crimson colors. It seemed like he'd let his guard down, his eyes had lost their glamour and now looked a pale bone colour, his hands almost like claws. They shared a beer, and Willow made sure not to say 'thank you'.
"Say, why don't you live in the Fae realm? Or at least in a flat all to yourself?"