"Oh yeah, I got big into unicorns when I was a kid. That was a couple years after my witchcraft phase. Speaking of, did you ever have one of those? Every girl I've ever met did, I wanna see if you're the exception or the rule."
"I mean, I have an interest, but I can't really practice…" She admitted quietly. "But yeah, every girl does seem to have one…"
"You can use my supplies if you want," Ophelia offered softly. "It's been a little while since I last practiced, but I still have everything. Just in case the urge struck."
Crissy looked up, surprised. "Really? I-I mean, you don't have to do that…" She mumbled.
"I want to." The trees gave way to a winding gravel road, at the end of which sat a beautiful two-story Victorian manor. "I haven't been using them lately, they'd just go to waste if you didn't take them."
"…Thank you…" She said softly, looking out the window again. Wow, that's a nice house…
"Of course. We're… housemates. I wanna be on good terms, even if I'm not… well, to be honest, I'm not the happiest that dad decided to get a foster kid instead of dealing with his problems like a fucking adult." She stopped at the wrought iron gates, a bit too sudden, and unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'll be right back," she said, slipping out of the car.
Crissy nodded, playing with her fingers again. At least she has a decent reason to not like me. I've had worse… nope. Not thinking about him right now. I can't have a panic attack right now.
Ophelia got back into the car a few minutes later, frowning at Criss as the gates swung open in front of them. "What's wrong? You're white as a sheet" She laid her hand against Crissy's forehead, trying to see if she was running a temperature.
"O-oh, sorry. That-that happens, sometimes. I'm fine." She said, smiling shakily.
Ophelia's gaze flickered over Crissy's face before her mouth pressed into a flat little line of displeasure. "You're not though. Something freaked you out. Y'know it's okay to be upset, right? Nobody'll blame you for being worried."
"I'm fine, really." She said quickly. "Really, I swear." She smiled, taking a few deep breathes.
"Okay." Ophelia dropped the matter quickly, but her tone said 'we'll talk about this later'. "But, you're going to let me cook you some soup when we get home." She put the car back into drive, heading up the driveway.
"Okay…" She said, a bit awkwardly. "I could help, if you want." She offered, biting her lip.
Ophelia sighed at her clunky tone, wishing Crissy could feel comfortable with her, and shook her head. "No, I've got it. But… if you really wanna help me out, you can rip up chicken for our lunch tomorrow."
Crissy nodded, smiling. "Okay!" She said, glad she could do something.
Ophelia smiled as she did, parking in the garage and leading Crissy into the house. The floors were made of dark wood, the walls painted a dark ocean blue. Ophelia turned on the lights as they went, exposing the tasteful- and obviously expensive- decorations. The kitchen was the only light part of the house, walls a cheery yellow. Floral curtains hung on the windows. Ophelia finally seemed to breathe. "Welcome to my part of the house.
Crissy looked around, shuffling after her. Wow… "It's nice…" She said softly, fidgeting again. And then there's me, a literal rat, standing in the middle of it all.
"It's yours too. We have more than enough empty space upstairs, if you want a hobby room. God knows we all need something to fill our free time." Ophelia strolled over to the refrigerator, pulling out her ingredients and passing Crissy a pre-cooked chicken. "Shred this while I make your soup. How does tomato bisque sound?"
Crissy nodded. "I'm not picky." She said, putting her bag down and getting started on shredding the chicken.
"That doesn't mean you don't have a preference." Ophelia started grabbing pots from below the counters. "I can make something else if you'd like it better."
"No, it's fine, really." She said, smiling softly.
"Good." Ophelia spooned boiled tomatoes into the pot. "Would you mind tossing that into the salad when you're done?"
"Sure." She said, nodding as she worked on shredding the chicken.
Ophelia hummed, working on the soup. She finished fifteen minutes after, leading Crissy into the living room while the soup simmered. "So, what's a nice girl like you doing in foster care? Obviously you don't have to spill, but it'd be… nice. 'Course, I don't really mind if you've got boundaries you need to keep up. You should be able to feel safe here."
Crissy tensed up slightly. "Can I… not get into that right now?" She asked quietly. "It's, um, not fun…"
"Yeah, that's perfectly fine." Ophelia pushed her down onto the couch gently, reaching over for the remote before she plopped down herself. "What do you wanna watch?"
"I'm fine with anything." She said, shrugging. "I don't really watch T.V. much, so I don't know many shows."
"I'm the same, sorry to say." Ophelia flipped through channels, never settling on one for more than a few seconds. "Here, I'm never going to pick on my own." She passed Crissy the remote.
Crissy flipped through for a minute, setting on a show that looked kind of interesting. "Is that okay?" She asked, looking up at her.
