"Or if I need you to buy something while you're out."
He clung to an unexpected word in that explanation. "Worrying?" he laughed. "About me?"
She shot a confused look at him, like he was an idiot. "Yes, about you. Have I not—" She stopped herself and let out a growl of frustration, forming fists that she shook parallel to her face.
"Well, think of it this way:If you die, I die. So of course I'd worry about you, yes?"
"You think this world would kill me?" he questioned her with a skeptical smirk.
Vladira looked away and pouted. "No, I suppose not. But—perhaps…another woman…" Her voice trailed off before he could really discern what she was trying to say, and he was too impatient to press her further.
They checked out their goods and made their way back to the motel to drop them off.
They found that Charlotte had already cleaned up a bit, which was a nice surprise, if a bit invasive.
———
Alaric enjoyed an entire jug of milk and box of cereal, while Vladira stared at him in a look between disbelief and affection.
After that, the monster slayer headed to the gas station, and Vladira stayed behind to explore the new TV that was waiting in their room as she put their new clothes away and attempted to set up the microwave.
Everywhere Alaric needed to go was within the maximum distance that they could get from one another without feeling pain, thankfully.
Alaric entered the Pump N' Go and spotted a burly man with a brown beard and spiked blond hair standing behind the counter in the ugly orange polo that seemed to be the uniform here.
There was also a skinny girl with red ringlets and too much makeup who wore the same polo with the store's logo on it.
"Greetings, citizens," Alaric said, bowing his head deferentially. The two people behind the counter eyed one another with confusion before settling their gazes back on him.
"My name is Alaric Voss. I would like to
apply to work at your fine establishment, the Pump N' Go. Might I inquire as to the process? Is there an apprenticeship which I can receive some pay for, or must I spend some time in a trade school? Will I be required to join a guild as—"
The tired-looking man handed him a sheet of paper from under the desk, cutting him short.
"Take this and a pen and fill the paper out. Come back here when it's done and I'll do the interview on the spot." The man pointed
to a nametag. "I'm Justin, and this is Tammy." He indicated the red-haired
waif.
Alaric bowed again and took the paper. "I shall fill in this form posthaste and to your satisfaction, good sir. Thank you for providing this opportunity. My archnemesis and I have just moved in nearby, so a workplace that is near our dwelling is mandatory since—well, let's just say that we find distance to be troubling."
"Too much information," the man grunted.
"Did you want to buy anything while you're here?"
"We've got six dollar pizzas," Tammy chimed in, grinning at him as her eyes charted and traveled an indirect course across his muscular body.
"Pizza, you say? Intriguing that Italian cuisine would be all the way over here in the New World," he muttered. "Very well, proprietor, I shall take one of your finest pizzas!"
"Go get it," Justin grunted, gesturing at a counter full of strange foods spinning across odd rotisserie contraptions. On one corner of the table, there was a heated metal plate on a pedestal.
On this plate was the fabled pizza in
question. The smell of it captured him completely, and he boxed the entire thing up in a matter of seconds, sliding it into the cardboard receptacle he found under the table.
"Six dollars for this?" he noted. "Prices here are fair indeed."
He purchased the pizza and bid both Justin and Tammy farewells, minding their mannerisms so that he might better copy them next time.
When it got right down to it, they weren't all that different from the vulgar masses of his time, though there was far less of a desire to be seen as polite here than where he'd hailed.
The general atmosphere was more…casual. It wasn't bad, just different.
Alaric utterly devoured the entire pizza on his way back to Room 13 of the Weekend Inn. When he got back to the room, he suddenly thought of another item they should have bought—trash bags.
"Well, there's always tomorrow," he muttered as he unlocked and opened the door.
Vladira rushed to the door to greet him.
"Darling," she cooed, but before she could say anything more, his breath hit her, and her face steamed as she leapt onto the ceiling and clung to it like a spider. She hissed at him.
"You ate garlic, you dick!"
He frowned. "I admit I did not consider the consequences of Italian cuisine," he sighed.
"I'll shower and brush my teeth at once, and then we'll go find your coffin and those phones."
Alaric ambled toward the bathroom, but Vladira stopped him, tugging gently on his sleeve.
"The cellphones can wait. I think we'll need you to have an ID for those."
"I thought I saw prepaid phones at the electronics section in W-Mart, actually," he replied.
Vladira pointed at the windows. "In any case, I borrowed extra blankets from Charlotte and nailed them over the windows, so no sunlight can get inside during the day and we have all the privacy we could need. So…"
He arched his brow. "So, what? You don't need a coffin? Where will you sleep?"
"I was thinking we could just…both keep a nocturnal schedule and… maybe share the bed during the day?"
Alaric blinked at her, his mouth opening into the shape of a startled 'o'.
Vladira got over her performative shyness and grinned. "I must warn you, though—my feet are very cold."