**LUKAS**
I am exhausted. I’m not a particularly social person, and I’ve been carrying most of the conversation this afternoon. Not that I’m complaining, one glance into Clare’s mind is enough to know she’s far more stressed out and tired than I am. She’s practically counting the minutes until we can leave. Still, it’s kind of amusing that she seems so surprised to see me successfully being polite. I suppose I haven’t given her much reason to expect that I can be, but it’s not like I’m incapable. I know how to mask my own emotions and act the way people expect me to, I just don’t like doing it. It’s a lot of work, and it burns me out quickly. I save it for situations like this, where it really matters. What’s surprising me is how much I find myself wanting Clare’s family to like me, or at least tolerate me. It shouldn’t matter. Normally, I don’t care what most people think of me, especially strangers. But I can feel how much Clare still craves their approval, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. Maybe that’s why I care. Her feelings are rubbing off on me. Or maybe I just don’t want to make this harder for her. Still, when Julian offered me his hand, essentially inviting me to read his mind, I hesitated. I wasn’t worried about seeing something dark, not really. Clare had already given me the sense that Julian wasn’t the bad guy here. No, I hesitated because I didn’t want to risk making things awkward. People rarely say what they mean, and their thoughts often betray them. It’s not a pleasant experience, being a human lie detector, especially when you can’t turn it off. Most people present a mask of politeness and professionalism while thinking bitter, cruel, or judgmental things inside. That’s one of the reasons I appreciate Clare so much. She might lecture me, tease me, or sass me at every opportunity, but she’s honest about it. Her criticisms usually aren’t mean so much as helpful and she doesn’t waste time pretending to be someone she’s not. If anything, she’s NICER in her head than she is out loud. Sure, she’s not always truthful about her feelings, but she’s not malicious. That kind of authenticity is rare, and it seems like it’s exactly what her brother admires most about her. Julian is also not what I expected. But then, most of what I knew about him was filtered through Clare’s memories, and people’s recollections aren’t always the truth. Or maybe he’s changed since she last spent time with him. Either way, when I reached into his mind, I was hit by a wave of genuine admiration and affection for Clare. What I didn’t expect was the way his thoughts started… Babbling at me. Just like Clare’s do.
*I have no idea what you’re seeing in my head right now or if you’re even listening to this, but I really AM worried about my sister. I figure it probably takes something big for her to come back home, much less with a guy in tow. Also, I know I called you two out as not being a real couple, and yeah, I still believe that, but no guy fawns over a woman the way you’ve been fawning over Clare unless he’s actually into her. No one is THAT good an actor. And since she didn’t set you on fire when you pulled her into your lap, I’m guessing she’s fairly fond of you too.*
I almost laughed at that. Fond of me, huh? If only he knew how much Clare pretends to hate my guts half the time. Or the death threats she was giving me while I cuddled up to her. Although I have to say it was still nice. I don’t think I’ve never actually had someone willingly sit cuddled up with me like that before. Clare might have been complaining, but I think it was more that she was embarrassed than anything else. I don’t think she was opposed to the contact, even if she won’t admit that. Julian’s babbling didn’t stop there. His thoughts kept rambling.
*So, this is me doing my brotherly duty and reminding you that if you piss her off, you’ll regret it. Realistically, it won’t even be because of me, Clare would probably destroy you long before I got to you. But I’d help her cover it up… Even if she doesn’t seem to realise that. I should probably talk to her more, huh? This handshake has been going on for a long time. How long does mind reading take? Do you see ALL my thoughts, or just the ones I’m thinking right now? I guess it doesn’t matter. But I’m definitely reading up on this later, and-*
At that point, I pulled away. It wasn’t just his words that struck me, it was the feeling behind them. There wasn’t a single hint of deception or malice in his thoughts. Even his ‘threats’ were more protective than hostile. Julian just isn’t an aggressive guy. Clare was so impressed by his ability to manage their parents, but it was all innocent, no manipulation, no selfishness. He’s not the person she thought he was growing up, and he’s definitely not who I expected either. Julian is nice. He’s a people pleaser, sure, and he doesn’t have Clare’s courage to stand up to their parents so blatantly. But I get the sense he stands up for her in his own quiet way, even if she doesn’t know it. Clare has mentally described him as the ‘golden child’ but I’m wondering if some of what she experienced was his way of drawing their parent’s criticism away from her in the only way he knows how. The more I think about it, the more I realise Clare’s family dynamics are more complicated than they seem. It makes me wonder how much of her perception of them is based on how she felt about herself when she left. She’s not as alone as she thinks she is, and maybe now she’ll know it too.
And now here we are, sitting across from Clare’s Aunt Daisy. The tension in the air is thick. Clare’s shoulders are stiff, her posture rigid, and I can feel her discomfort radiating off her. Daisy, on the other hand, looks completely at ease, her sharp gaze alternating between us like she’s trying to decide the best way to pick us apart. I didn’t spend long in her mind earlier, it wasn’t a nice place to be. There was something cold and calculating about her thoughts, like she’s constantly strategizing, seeing people not as individuals but as pieces on a chessboard. Even her own family. It’s the kind of mind I prefer to avoid, but for Clare’s sake, I’m here. And for now, I’m not sure if I should take the lead or let Clare handle it. This is her family, after all. I’m just the outsider, the supposed boyfriend she brought along for moral support. So I wait, keeping my body language relaxed even as my mind races. If Clare wants me to step in, I know she’ll tell me. She’s still sitting close enough that I can loop my arm around her waist, and I do, more for her benefit than mine, or at least that’s what I tell myself. But there’s something ridiculously satisfying about it too. Most people keep their distance from me, physically and emotionally. It’s not surprising, I know what I am, what I can do. People don’t like the idea of their thoughts being exposed, even when I’m not actively trying to read them. But Clare… She’s different. All afternoon, she’s been chatting with me mentally like it’s the most natural thing in the world. There’s no hesitation, no fear, no discomfort. It’s not just that she tolerates my ability, she uses it, engages with it, and treats it like it’s a normal part of who I am. That kind of trust is rare. It’s something I didn’t realise I was missing until she gave it to me. I’m not sure she realises how much trust she’s been placing in me either. The situation we’re in right now might be completely insane, dealing with demons, necromancers, and a family that could easily turn on us, but through it all, Clare has done something no one else ever has. She’s made me feel normal. Or, if not normal, at least comfortable in my own skin. It’s a strange feeling, especially considering the chaos my life has been in over the past week. Everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down, my family is even more of a mess than I realised, and my father… Well, I’m not ready to think about that right now. But despite all of it, I feel something I’ve never really felt before. Comfortable. Sitting here, next to Clare, I realise I’m not alone in this. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I have an ally, someone who sees me, all of me, and doesn’t flinch. If she doesn’t like something she just tells me and gives me a chance to adjust or sets a boundary she is comfortable with. And that’s enough to make me believe that maybe, just maybe, we’ll get through this, and I know that when it’s all over, no matter the outcome, my life will be better for having her in it. Now, if only we can figure out what Aunt Daisy is hiding.