Page 11 of Pride to Pack


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  I wake up to the smell of bacon, eggs, tomatoes, ooh and fresh coffee. My nose is great with smells. It’s not such a good thing when the smell is unpleasant, like when I got on that bus full of smelly people. Ugh. Times like that I wish I had a human nose. Today? Today I am happy to have an extra sensitive nose. It feels like a week since I had a cup of coffee. I’d even be glad for a bad one at the minute. I can’t function without a coffee in a morning, but this coffee smells divine.

  I dive out of bed, or should I say off the bed since I didn’t manage to get under the covers last night. After quickly washing and changing, I follow that lovely smell of food and coffee; and after entering two empty lounge rooms I finally find the source. Sitting at the granite breakfast bar in the kitchen is Misty, eating the best looking full English breakfast I have ever seen. Seeing only one plate makes my stomach grumble and I decide I need to find a diner as soon as possible.

  “Good morning, Misty. Thanks for letting me stay the night. I’ll get out your hair now and see you at five for my shift.”

  Misty slightly spins her stool to face me. “How’d ya sleep?”

  “Great. That bed is fantastic.”

  “Good. There’s a plate of breakfast in the oven keeping warm for ya, and there’s some fresh coffee in the pot on the side.” She waves her hand in the direction of the oven and coffee.

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you.” I go straight for the oven and remove my plate, sitting at the bar on the stool next to Misty.

  After eating my breakfast and drinking the best coffee I’ve ever had, I reach over and pour myself a second cup from the jug on the table.

  Misty puts her cup down for seconds too. “I was thinking, since ya don’t have anywhere to stay and there’s just me in this big place, do ya wanna stay on a more permanent basis?”

  Misty's apartment is actually four apartments knocked into one. She has the whole floor to herself.

  “What, like rent one of the rooms from you? Are you sure? You don’t really know me.” I can see what’s coming; I should have seen it last night when Misty invited me to stay, even though she had only known me for a couple of hours.

  I'm an empath, meaning I can feel people's emotions. According to my Aunt, my mum was an empath too. It's the empathy that's making Misty feel like she can trust me. For some reason, people feel at ease with me. I even get strangers coming up to me in the street and pouring their heart out. Their trust in me isn’t false. I’m trustworthy because I feel people’s emotions. I don’t want them to feel bad, so I do anything I can to make people feel better. I would never do anything to hurt people, for one thing it would hurt me twice as much as it would them.

  Misty jumps off her stool and walks over to the sink to rinse her plate. “I know, but I trust ya. I get a good vibe from you and being a witch, I’m all about vibes.”

  “If you’re sure, that would be brilliant. Thank you.” I walk over to the sink to rinse my own plate and cup, before placing them in the dishwasher.

  The day went by pretty quick. We just chilled out, drinking coffee and filling each other in on our lives. I got through my life story in no time, I told her about my empathy, which Misty had heard of. Thankfully, it didn’t alter her feelings towards me.

  Misty has been practising witchcraft for the last ten years. She moved in with her gran when she found out she was a witch at sixteen. Her gran taught her everything she knew. Unfortunately, she passed away last year. She bought the bar and apartment when she was twenty-one with some inheritance money she received from a distant relative she had never even met.
Aimie Jennison's Novels