The moment she got into the door to her apartment, the door closed tightly behind her and the lock secured, she slouched against its hard, cool, surface and slid down it. “…He’s perfect…” she mumbled beneath her breath. There was no happiness in her voice, nothing that she thought she’d feel, or that she should be feeling, by the serendipitous circumstances that led her there to meet him.<br/><br/>If anything, she felt…nothing.<span style="font-style: italic">Nothing but terrible,</span>came a begrudging thought, pushing herself back up from the floor and dropping her bag onto the counter, forgoing her usual take-out routine and going straight for the shower. Water on cold, barely above the point of freezing, she stepped in, the water offering a small bit of comfort, but nothing like it used to as nothing could rinse away the intentions she held for the man she’d met. For Elijah Maddox, philanthropist, awkward speaker with a good heart.<span style="font-style: italic">For Elijah Maddox…Innocent.</span>Back to the water, her forehead rested against the wall while she tried to think of something to justify what she was going to do, the nefarious plot she’d been given.<br/><br/>“It’ll give you the family you’ve always wanted,” Chrystal assured herself, pushing off of the wall again to start washing her hair in robotic, subconscious fashion. “You’ll have someone to lean on, ten someones, twenty someones! The numbers of the coven are always growing, their connections extensive! You’ll have a true family! You’ll finally belong to something!”<br/><br/>But, no matter how many times she repeated that, what she’d gain, there was always the niggling feeling that it’d not be equal, worth it. What had Elijah done to deserve being a sacrifice? To be led on and killed? He’d be leaving behind a family, those lost that he helped daily? What was it that he’d done to deserve her ends?<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Nothing, but you’re going to do it, anyway, because it’s what you need,</span>came a stricter voice, something resembling Annelise, but not quite. A hybrid her mind had come up with, it’d seem, between Annelise’s alto tones and her own, the sound stricter, harsher, causing her to pause in her movements, eyes unfocused as they stared at the condensation-covered walls about her; The spray off of her hair, off of her body from the shower's head, scattering onto the walls and glass surrounding her, remaining little droplets until her body's temperature caught up to it, causing it to freeze into perfect crystalized patterns around her.<span style="font-style: italic">Not like he has anything to fear in death. He’ll be fine. You need to cover your own ass; He’ll be fine in the end. You just do what you have to do.</span><br/><br/>Nodding to herself, affirming her own thoughts, she turned off the water and stepped out, feet leaving icy crystaled foot prints in their wake, the trail leading to her bedroom. Before getting dressed for the night, she sat on the edge of her bed, staring off into space for a good long while as she kept reiterating her justification in her head over and over.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He’ll be fine in the end…He’ll be fine in the end…He’ll be fine…</span><br/><br/>At some point, she was uncertain of when exactly, her nightgown had found its way onto her body and the covers were pulled over her, head resting on the pillow as she prepared for a long, sleepless night. Just as she felt sleep begin to take her, an incessant beeping started, eyes finding her phone lit up with a text. Lazily, a hand grabbed for it off of her nightstand, opening the text, eyes widening at what it read, Annelise. She should have expected it, braced for it, but it still shocked her nonetheless…Or maybe shock wasn’t the right word.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">“He’s perfect.”</span></div><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #FF0000">BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!</span></span><br/><br/>Bleary eyes, transfixed on the ceiling above her, slowly turned their dry depths toward her alarm clock, taking their sweet time to focus on the time the clock read out, the delay in which her brain registered it far more than usual.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He’s perfect…</span>her mind repeated, mind tiredly running over the night’s progression and wondering what she’d missed, wondering where they’d been lurking to see her, to see him, to see their interaction and know she’d found the one. No one had followed her, she didn’t think. No one had made themselves known…yet they knew. They knew where she’d gone, and they knew who she met.<br/><br/>They had to; No one would send a text like that without cause.<br/><br/>Unnerved, she set to getting ready for work, a new job that Annelise had lined up for her.<span style="font-style: italic">To help my search along, no doubt,</span>she thought wryly as she got dressed and ready to go. It was a menial job at best, managing for the book store down the way, within walking distance so she’d have no excuse to not show up, and she could better scope out those that may serve the purpose. Granted, she’d found him now, so the job wasn’t necessary in that regard, and was now merely a means to finance her apartment and takeout habit…but she still had to go.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Damn it.</span><br/><br/>Skirt pulled on, the usual nylons already in place as was her shirt, and heels easily slipped into, the only thing left was her coat. Sliding her arms into it and buttoning it tightly out of habit more than ned, Chrys grabbed up the discarded bag from the night before, this time putting a book of her own in it, along with a pencil and notebook, before leaving for her day. Her mind was further away than her body, the walk taking her down a similar route he’d have left on to venture home, but she’d not noticed, leading her to the neighborhood she’d yet to explore.<br/><br/>A fact she planned to rectify after work.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Right after I get passed all the bar codes, scanning in of new books, cataloging the batches and getting the clerks to put them where they belong. Another day, living the dream,</span>she thought with disdain, brow quirking as her hand pulled out the keys to unlock the door and begin opening shop.<br/><br/>Five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.