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I walked back to my bedroom, and the door was firmly shut… which of course it was. 

There was nothing stopping me from just barging in there, no holds barred, it was my room after all… but as soon as I got to the door, I knocked instead, not too loud, not too quiet, not too hard either… but also not too gentle.

So long we two spent pulling and tugging on each other's hair we started recognizing things we don't even think twice about. The sound we make walking down the stairs, the specific time precisely we go to sleep, and even the way we knock on each other's doors. 

That one, in particular, was hard to ever get wrong. 

A faint clicking, and the door slowly veered open slightly, in that narrow crevice - a small glint of bright blue, and a heavy sigh funneling through. "Yeah, I knew you'd come knocking for me eventually." 

Moments later, I was silently swiveling in the chair next to my desk - the door once more clicked close - and Sammy sitting right across at the foot of the bed, Mr. Black a peaceful patch of fur resting atop her lap. 

The very sight before my eyes hit me with a strong surge of deja vu. With her hair, and the way she carried herself, it was like that day, that dreadful time… it was like having Mom in my room all over again. 

I just couldn't shake the feeling that any moment I was about to hear her soft, soothing voice again coming out of Sammy's lips, only then for that illusion to be shattered the moment I heard her speak again… not as soothing, not as soft.

"I wasn't rude. You can't blame me for running away from her, alright?" She said, pausing briefly to temper her wavering tone. "I get it, you don't have to say it - she's nice, she's harmless, she wouldn't dare hurt a fly - okay? I get it. So don't, don't… argh, just don't start with that right now, please." 

"I haven't even said anything yet," I told her, spinning one last time to realign myself forward. "And I think you're already a bit too old to be lectured on your manners anyway." 

"Ash..." Sammy muttered quietly. I heard her say it, and I already didn't like the way she said it. "What is that, huh? Is that just her? Or do all Elves have that terrible, terrifying presence about them?" 

"Ignore it," I said.

"Ignore it?" She gaped at me, apparently so taken aback by the suggestion she couldn't help but give a nervous chuckle. "Are you being serious?" 

I kept straight-faced. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"What was it - like, an hour ago? I told you I have been having bad feelings, bad worries, bad vibes? Remember that?" 

"Ash has nothing to do with whatever you're thinking." 

"Well of course you can say that when you're not the one here having to feel these things!" She said in an aggressive whisper, speaking so fast and so quiet as if she was afraid of being overheard by someone. "I didn't get this feeling from either of those vampires, I didn't get it from you, I didn't even get it from Mom! Explain how that's possible, Big Bro, because I am freaking out here." 

I wasn't that dense or dumb that I couldn't see nor understand where she was coming from. Time and time again, I've been shown and told over and over the way things were when it came to the subject of Elves, and when it came to Ash especially… it was like a sour tune blaring stuck on an ever-constant loop. 

Could stay standing on my hill, fighting forever as devil's advocate, but the truth was, words alone weren't going to change how reality works. There was no excuse I could use to simply brush the matter under the rug, and burying it under an insurmountable hill of denials hoping it'll just go away won't change the fact that it won't.

It won't just go away.

All this time that's what I've been trying to do and never once did it lead to any change whatsoever. Ash had the right idea all along, that smile of hers, that simple acceptance downstairs…

In the end, just gotta own up to it.

And so I did.

"There's a long, terribly bloody history that isn't worth getting into about her kind," I said, and her eyes perked up in alarm. "I don't know much myself, but I know enough to know that they're considered a blight to the world they come from. Where Mom and Dad come from," I added on. "Something to be eradicated at sight - and yes, it's probably justified too." 

Before I could even finish, Sammy was already looking at me like all her worst fears were all but confirmed and were coming true right before her very eyes. I saw her face, and for a moment, wondered if that's the normal reaction for everyone else at the mere sight of an Elf.

"You ask Ash herself, and she won't deny what you felt in her, she'll tell you you're right to be wary, that your distrust is not misplaced, and you've every right to fear her as much as you do… and she won't even hold it against you if you do. She pretty much said it herself to me already the moment you went and gunned it." 

Sammy pulled a face that formed many annoyed wrinkles. "You don't have to tell me all this, I told you already. I could tell from the moment I saw her, okay? And from what you've told me too, how you talk about her through your messages… I know she's every bit as kind as you are probably about to describe to me. I want to believe that, I do believe that. But what am I supposed to do when every nerve in my body is screaming at me to run the moment I catch sight of her?" 

"And what is she supposed to do about it, Sammy?" I threw the question back at her. "Walk out of the room every time you enter one? Keep quiet when you speak? Get her to leave the house whenever you find her presence too discomforting?" 

"Don't twist this back at me," She snapped. "Of course, I won't ask her to do any of that." 

"It's not like she can just change how she is, y'know?" I continue to say. "Trust me, if she could, she would… you think she likes frightening young little girls all the way up to their big brother's bedroom for comfort from her?"

Once again, she spoke out loud to my callouts, her cheeks in a tinge of red. "Can you -! I'm not the bad guy! Stop trying to guilt-trip me, it's not gonna work!" 

"Seems to be working." 

"Look," She blew a calming breath. "You, I know you sense it from her too, don't you? When you close your eyes? That paralyzing fear, that shock rippling across your body? How do you - ?"

"Deal with that?" I finished for her. "Because I already know her far better than that," then just before she could ponder on it, I piled on her mind more food for thought. "And maybe that's just your problem. Simply put, you don't know her like I do." 

"Yes, true, but - "

"But nothing," I scooted my seat closer, nearly swerving a full circle as I did. "You keep insisting to me that you know that she's nice, you know that she's kind, you know yaddy-yaddy-yadda, but you've never even actually spoken a word to her, so how is that even possible? Riddle me that, why don't you?" 

"B-because you said so!" was her absolutely terrible pathetic attempt at a response and we both knew that long before she even got those words out of her sputtering lips, which is why she immediately tried again. "And from how she looked when I first saw her… and from Tyler's video too… how she looks at you whenever the camera focuses on her… that's how I know," then she got quieter, her eyes growing softer. "And from how you look at her too… you love her, don't you?" 

Without hesitating, without even thinking, I nodded. "More than you could ever know." 

"I knew it, ugh..." She slumped her head, and it was hard to tell if the look on her face was one of total shock or just pure utter disgust at how corny I sounded, probably both. "And she? She loves you too? Are you two, um… going out or something?" 

I just smiled. "If you really wanna know, why don't you go ask her yourself? Everything so far has just been hearsay and preconceived opinions, hasn't it? Whether she's kind or whether she's evil, why don't you really get to know what she's truly like personally?"

"Oh, well, that's..." Sammy looked back up, hesitation brazen on her expression. "I suppose… if you're there with me… I'll manage..."

"Of course I'll be," I scoffed. "It's steak and I'm hungry, aren't you?" 

She didn't have to answer that. At the mention of steak, her stomach gave a loud growl that startled and scurried Mr. Black out of her lap. Face in a flush, she asked, the prospect of a hearty meal growing far too tempting to deny, "And how's... the steak like?"

"Medium rare," I offered a hand out towards her to which she timidly took it with her own. "Just the way you like it." 

"Oh," She said, standing up on her feet. "You told her?"

"Wouldn't dare start cooking unless I did." 

Sammy's gaze after was an empty, far away one lost deep in the trenches of thought. Seeing her like that was a promising sight.

"Well?" I cocked a brow at her. "Changing your mind about her already?" 

But she wasn't lost enough to be caught without a snarky response at the ready, turning away haughtily, marching towards the door. "I'll see how the steak tastes first… like you said, better to form my own opinion, right?" 

She'll warm up to her.. I just know it.