GEORGIA WAS SITTING behind the counter when Adam and I walked back into the store; her face animated with unnerving anticipation.

"So," she quipped. "How did it go?"

I wondered what exactly her brain had conjured up as she imagined what I might have been doing all alone with a human soldier at his house. Considering her personality, I found an answer fairly quickly.

"Nothing of significance happened that is any of your business," I trilled, sidling past to join her, before bending down to reach for my other dream.

My nightmare.

The dark blue and black swirled, and magic thrummed beneath my fingers. I was acutely aware of Adam's furrowed-brow glance at it, but he said nor did nothing to rattle me. I was not sure if the dream would be needed, but I wanted to be prepared.

Georgia gave a pout. "You're no fun," she informed me, as though it were new information. She then turned to Adam, who was standing tensely by door. "...What's biting you?" she sighed, leaning forward.

To my surprise, he actually turned to look at her.

And as I had expected, he said nothing.

"He cannot wait to get out of here," I gave her the answer instead. "I told him that traversing the planes is no straightforward task."

It took her a second to process my explanation.

"You're leaving?" Georgia seethed, standing up and slamming a hand on the counter. Even Adam started. The girl's gaze burned with anger but I could see the glimmer of betrayal dancing in her irises.

I faltered.

I had known that she would not take too kindly to being left in the Cotton Candy on her own. It brought up her past experiences, and she probably would not feel safe. Even when she had been out there on the streets, she had not been alone. She had grown used to my company. That left one other option.

"She is coming with us," I told the soldier.

His brows furrowed. "No."

"There is no negotiation," I clipped. "She is not staying behind on her own."

"Get a babysitter," he suggested.

"I'm fifteen," scoffed the teenager.

"Don't you have parents?" he hissed.

Georgia hesitated, and I raised a brow in surprise when she then indignantly said, "No."

Adam seemed to soften slightly. "The war?" he sighed.

Georgia did not know what to say to that, so she turned away from him with her jaw clenched tight. I could see the film of tears glistening in her eyes.

"She does not talk about it," I told the soldier.

He nodded slowly. "I still do not want more people coming along than is necessary."

"No one is staying behind," I clipped, looking between the two humans. They dithered, shuffling on their feet self-consciously. "...Adam, it is either both of us or neither," I addressed him.

His eyes narrowed, his folded arms tightening. He must have realised that he could not go anywhere nor do anything without my aid. A solo mission was rendered useless. So he growled out, "Fine."

A self-satisfied smile grew on Georgia's face as she realised that she had gotten what she wanted. "I'll go pack," she quipped, turning to walk to the back room.

As soon as she was out of earshot Adam marched over to me and placed a hand onto the counter, trapping me where I was behind his muscular arm. Feigning disconcertment, I dared to meet his levelled gaze.

"Why are you so against her accompanying us?" I asked.

"We don't need deadweight," he had the audacity to say.

"She could be useful," I gasped.

"I doubt that. What skills does she have?"

"Unrealised potential?" I offered.

Adam gave me a look.

It was not easy to vouch for Georgia. I had seen her do nothing but domestic work —I had never seen her wield a weapon or properly defend herself. Though I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, and entrust her to make herself useful.

Even if she had no combat or navigation skills, there was another reason for which she had to come.

What if that boy —Joshua —returned, and Georgia had no one to escort him off of the premises?

"She cannot remain here alone," I insisted. "There are people out there who do not have the best intentions. She has made a few enemies. People who would want to hurt her," I added darkly.

"And you think that dragging her through blistering colds and thick jungles or unpredictable magic is safer?" he countered; and justifiably so.

I actually hesitated, and then turned my head to the side and pressed my lips together.

Was it truly better to bring her with us?

"What happened to her that warrants you to act so motherly towards her?" he then questioned, leaning in further. I turned my head back and stiffened, noticing the lack of space between us.

"I am not motherly," I quipped. "I have no reference for what that would be. I barely had one myself."

"I would say that you're doing quite the job, then," he half scoffed. "This isn't some sort of attempt at avenging your own childhood, is it?"

My jaw slackened. My heart seemed to wretch as though he had hit the nail squarely on the head. I had to pause —I had to ask myself if this was entirely for Georgia, and not some twisted way to outdo my parents.

The glass in my hands turned colder, and I felt the frost leave my fingertips.

I then realised that one cannot seek revenge on someone for whom they do not care.

"My personal life has nothing to do with Georgia," I then found my voice again, and arched an eyebrow. "To some, my upbringing may have been miserable and torturous, but I know that it moulded me into the Dreamcatcher that I am today. I would not be the same without it. I am grateful —not resentful."

Adam was flabbergasted for a moment by my response, and consequently stared at me for a good while. My gaze focused on different parts of his face while he only looked at my eyes. He was so close that I could reach out and mimic his actions from my first dream. But when my eyes fell to his lips, I had to pull back. I had to remind myself to keep that sworn distance.

He inhaled, before leaning back to his original position.

"Purple," I then whispered.

"...What?"

"You asked me what my name was before," I elaborated. "And now I am giving you an answer."

He blinked slowly, before his gaze narrowed. "Like the colour of your eyes," he commented. "Though, why are you telling me now? Why not then?"

I shrugged halfheartedly. "Perhaps I simply thought it would be all right for you to know."

His brows rose slightly, in unexpected surprise. "Purple," he murmured, getting a feel for it.

I was not going to lie and say that something within me did not react when he said my name.

What a dangerous power to hold over me. Perhaps there was a truth to the warnings.

In order to distract myself, I had to redirect the conversation. "Adam," I said. The muscles in his arm flexed in response, and I tried not to notice. "We still need to resolve the issue of Georgia."

Whatever he had been feeling; whether it was fondness or desire; it instantaneously dissipated. His brows knitted, his jaw clenched and he was angry once more.

"I stand by what I said," he clipped. "And you can't seem to explain why exactly she can't stay here."

"It is not my place to say what happened to her," I admitted, "but she has been through a lot, and she is terrified of solitude. I have seen her nightmares."

Adam breathed harshly through his nose. "Abandonment issues?" he guessed.

Apart from being kicked out before, I wondered if Georgia knew her birth parents, and had had a similar experience with them. Had they abandoned her, too?

"In a way," I sighed, feeling a shiver travel down my spine. "Please do not hold it against her."

His eyes bore into mine, fighting my plea. "I will not," he assured me reluctantly, Then he added spitefully, "But I will hold it against you."

I blinked, offended, but he turned away before I could respond. It would be petty to do so, and I was no stranger to that childishness. However, I thought better of it and I pressed my lips into a line. My grip on the glass bottle in my hand then tightened.

It did not faze me that Georgia would solely be my responsibility —I could handle it. But what had I done to Adam; especially to warrant his annoyance?

Was it to do with our conversation earlier, when I had pried about his family? It had not quite occurred to me as rude. I had simply wished to help him heal. I had meant what I said about discussion therapy —though I was sceptical about it working for myself.

My throat still closed up and my limbs weakened when I thought about a certain Dreamcatcher. How in the world would I manage to tell our story?

I stiffened as I felt the numbness right at that moment, threatening to overwhelm me. I shook my head to dispel the thoughts; to rid myself of those memories.

I clicked my tongue irritably. "Prepare to leave in ten minutes," I then announced to the front-of-house, rather than directly to the human, before setting the bottle down on the counter.

I did not give him the opportunity to reply.

Georgia had almost finished cramming her belongings into her backpack when I opened the door to peer inside. She looked at me determinedly.

"Your boyfriend is a pain in the ass," she stated bluntly, "but I'll tolerate him if I must."

"He is not my boyfriend," I corrected her, gathering four sets of clothing; two female and the others male. "What on Earth gave you that impression?"

"You went with him to his house," she mused. "Alone."

"We spoke about his family and the war, Georgia," I sighed. "I would hardly call that romantic."

She raised her eyebrows and hands in surrender, acting innocent. "I don't know what old people do."

I frowned, folding my clothes with newfound and unnecessary force. "I am not that old."

"You're immortal," she scoffed. "Age is infinite."

My brows furrowed as I processed her argument.

As I thought about it, pursuing Adam even if I had the chance was a terrible, doomed idea. I did not like forging deep relationships with mortals —because I would outlive them. It was discriminatory, but I avoided engaging with Elves and humans —even Wytches. Their lives were too short compared to mine.

Those magical creatures who only lived prolonged lives were still a mere stitch in time.

My kind of immortality was a curse. I did not ever want to mourn inevitable deaths and bury people.

I knew that Georgia was staring at me all the while. She was very much mortal. I did not plan on keeping her around permanently, though. I had a small hope that we would find her parents.

If we did, then I could help to smooth things over. After all, the girl deserved a good family who loved her the way parents should love their children.

I was incapable of that feeling.

"...Let us go," I then eventually murmured, slinging my carryon bag over my shoulder and striding for the door. "We have a strenuous journey ahead."