It started with five words that should've been classified as a threat.
"You should totally sleep over."
Harper had said it casually, like it wasn't the verbal equivalent of throwing a live grenade at Lithia's sanity. The human girl had invited her over after school, assuming that just because Lithia now had something resembling friends, she'd also signed up for social bonding rituals.
Lithia, naturally, stared at her like she'd just suggested eating a raccoon.
"A sleepover?" Lithia repeated, voice colder than her soul. "You mean, staying in one location, surrounded by creatures who snore, overshare, and consider microwaved cheese a 'meal'? No, thank you."
But Harper, being the unbothered gremlin she was, waved it off like Lithia's disapproval was a mild breeze. "C'mon, Ice Queen. It'll be fun. You can even wear that dramatic spider-silk dress or whatever you normally sleep in. Micah's coming too, so you won't be the only one pretending you hate the world."
That was how, through what Lithia could only describe as social blackmail, she found herself standing in Harper's room, staring at the walls covered in posters of obscure bands and weird serial killer podcasts. The room smelled like coffee, regret, and sarcasm.
Micah was already there, lying upside down on a beanbag chair, munching popcorn like it was his last meal.
"Welcome to the abyss," he said, throwing a popcorn kernel into the air and completely missing his mouth. "First rule of Harper's sleepover: sanity is optional."
Lithia's eye twitched. "Oh, I left that at the door."
Harper's version of a "fun night" involved horror movies that tried way too hard, pizza so greasy it could've doubled as industrial lubricant, and enough soda to commit a crime against the human pancreas.
At first, Lithia sat stiffly on the couch, looking like a queen trapped at a peasant gathering. But as the night dragged on, she found herself doing something deeply disturbing.
Relaxing.
Not by much, of course. Lithia's version of relaxing was sitting there with her arms crossed, judging the world, but slightly less murderously than usual.
They watched bad movies, roasted every character who made a dumb decision, and Micah tried to summon a ghost with a busted Ouija board he bought from a discount store.
"So, if I get possessed," Micah mumbled, eyes half-glazed from soda overdose, "promise me you'll make my funeral metal as hell."
Lithia sipped her black tea like a Victorian villain. "Oh, don't worry. I'd make sure no one would miss you enough to notice."
Harper cackled so hard she nearly dropped her slice of pizza.
But the real disaster hit at 3 a.m. — the unholy hour when the human body starts questioning its life choices.
Lithia couldn't sleep. Obviously. Beds were too soft, blankets were too warm, and the sounds of Harper and Micah's soft snoring were making her consider arson.
She sat by the window, watching the quiet street outside, moonlight reflecting off her pale skin like polished marble. For a moment, her mind drifted — back to her own world, to cold stone walls, the sound of blades clashing, the endless hunger for power and perfection. There were no pizza boxes or beanbags back there. Just war and nobility.
Here, though? Here she was surrounded by warmth, weirdness, and people who didn't expect her to be anything other than a slightly terrifying alien doll.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" a soft voice asked.
It was Harper, sitting up on her bed, rubbing her eyes.
Lithia didn't turn. "Sleep is a waste of time."
Harper stretched and flopped back onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, but you look less miserable than usual. I'll take it."
Lithia stayed silent for a moment, the quiet pressing against her like snowfall. Then, finally, she muttered, "...You humans are more tolerable than I expected."
It wasn't much. But it was the closest thing to affection that anyone had ever wrung out of her frozen heart.
Harper just snorted and closed her eyes again. "We'll grow on you. Like mold."
When morning came, Lithia walked home with Micah and Harper, the sun rising behind them like a glowing insult to her night owl soul. Her head ached from lack of sleep, and her mind buzzed with questions she didn't want to ask herself.
She wasn't used to this.
She wasn't supposed to have friends.
But apparently, the modern world had other plans.
End of Chapter 6.