I'd been putting off going back to my old apartment for three weeks.
There wasn't much there, honestly. Most of my stuff had been moved to the penthouse by Azryth's efficient staff, but there were things I wanted to get myself. Personal things, photos, a few books, my collection of increasingly sad houseplants that had probably died by now.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Azryth said Monday morning when I announced my plan.
"It's my apartment, I need to close it out and return the keys to the landlord."
"Send someone to handle it."
"I want to do it myself." I was getting better at standing up to him, the training helped, knocking him into walls on a semi-regular basis did wonders for my confidence. "It's my stuff, my life, I should be the one to pack it up."
His jaw tightened. "You'll take security."
"I don't need security to visit my own apartment."
"You're still emanating infernal energy constantly, you're a beacon for supernatural entities, you absolutely need security."
"Then come with me." The words came out before I thought them through. "If you're so worried, come with me yourself."
He looked up from his tablet, surprised. "You want me to come with you?"
"I want to close out my apartment, you want me protected. This solves both problems." I crossed my arms. "Unless you're too busy with important CEO stuff."
"I'm always busy with important CEO stuff." But he was already standing, already reaching for his jacket. "Fine. We'll go together, but we're taking the car, and we're not staying long."
Victory. Small, but I'd take it.
***
My apartment building looked exactly as I'd left it. Slightly run-down, definitely not in the best neighborhood, the kind of place you lived when you prioritized cheap rent over amenities.
Standing next to Azryth in his thousand-dollar suit, I was suddenly very aware of how different our worlds were.
"You lived here," he said, not a question, more like he was trying to understand.
"For five years. It's not much, but it was mine."
"It's a fire hazard with questionable structural integrity."
"It has character."
"It has mold."
"Character mold."
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile.
We took the stairs to the third floor, the elevator had been broken for six months, which I'd forgotten to mention. Azryth said nothing, but I could feel his judgment through the binding.
My apartment door was exactly as I'd left it, I pulled out my keys and unlocked it.
The smell hit me first. Not bad exactly, just... stale. Like the place had been sealed up and forgotten.
Everything looked smaller than I remembered, the studio that had felt adequate now seemed cramped, the furniture I'd been proud of thrifting looked shabby next to the expensive stuff in the penthouse.
"So this is where you lived," Azryth said, moving into the space, he looked around with the kind of clinical assessment you'd give a crime scene. "It's... compact."
"The word you're looking for is 'tiny.'"
"I was being diplomatic."
"You were being judgmental."
"That too." He moved to the window, looking out at the view of the neighboring building's wall. "You chose isolation here as well, away from people, limited social interaction."
"I liked my privacy."
"You liked hiding." He said it without accusation, just observation. "From your abilities, from connection, from anything that might complicate your carefully controlled life."
He wasn't wrong, but having it pointed out still stung.
"I'm going to pack," I said, pulling out the boxes I'd brought. "This shouldn't take long."
I started with the books, fantasy novels mostly, sci-fi, escapist fiction for someone who'd been escaping his own life.
Azryth wandered around the apartment, examining things. My small TV, my sad excuse for a kitchen, the photos I'd kept on the wall, mostly landscapes, nothing personal.
"No photos of family?" he asked.
"I don't have a family, I was orphaned at twelve, foster system after that."
"I see." He stopped in front of a photo of a beach. "Any friends?"
"Didn't really do friends."
"By choice or circumstance?"
"Both." I packed another book. "After the accident, the one that awakened my abilities, I learned that getting close to people meant they'd notice things, weird things I couldn't explain. It's easier to just... not."
"...So you've been alone for years."
"We've established I'm a lonely disaster. Can we move on?"
"I'm not judging, I'm understanding." He turned to look at me. "We're more similar than you want to admit."
Before I could respond to that, I felt it.
A cold spot, moving through the apartment.
The spirits had found me.