When Bri approached them again, they had taken to putting their hands in their pockets. An empty wallet filled their left hand and a full mobile phone filled the right. Their left fingers rubbed against the edges, the texture of a zipper and the newness of it all, slowly being rubbed away with the repetitive motions Malak submitted it to daily, when they remembered to hide their newly developed nervous tics.
Malak had never been nervous before in their life. At least, not when caused by what should have been nothing. These days, everything was nerve wracking.
This was how the mortals lived.
“Well? Did you find anything out?” The sheen of her eyes suggested she believed they hadn’t.
Malak’s lips twitched. “The relative peace of this small town was broken up three days ago by a person who didn’t follow the human standard for social norms – both in dress and in speech.”
“So you’re just eavesdroppin’ me. Gotcha.”
Malak rolled their eyes.