⫸——⫷

While walking to Wally's house, the two of you exchanged idle chit chat about the neighborhood and such. You discovered that he used to be a talk show host, but was not working at the time. He was looking for a new, more theatrical job, and was just relaxing in the mean time.

It was as if he was saving all of the big topics for once you were trapped in his house, right where he wanted you.

Wally really did look nice today. His hair was as per usual and his outfit was clean and crisp. You found yourself feeling rather calm, your anxiety no more than a gentle nagging in the back of your mind. However, you were sure that Wally would bring up your past at some point, and when he did, you knew you were going to feel terrified.

When the two of you arrived at his house, you noticed the shadows in his home's windows again. They seemed to examining you, following you and Wally as you entered. When you were inside and taking off your shoes, Wally sighed and said, "Hello, Home. It's good to be back."

You laughed quietly, thinking only briefly about his remark. "What did you make for dinner?" you asked as he slipped his own shoes off.

"Oh, you'll see," he teased, winking at you. Charming. The gesture nearly made you blush. "Follow me."

With that, he turned and walked around the corner opposite of the living room. You remembered where his kitchen was, for you were only just here yesterday. However, you did not get the chance to actually see his kitchen during the painting session. Red paint coated the walls, and the floor was made up of checkered black and white tiles. All of the counters were sleek and clean aside from some used dishes that Wally had probably used to make the dinner that was now on the stove.

Wally walked up to the stove and turned a burner off. He grabbed a bowl and began fiddling with some things as you continued to look around. In the same room, just off to the right of the kitchen, sat a dinning table. It was set up with two plates, two regular glasses, two wine glasses, silverware, a bottle of red wine and a pitcher of water.

"Would you like some help with anything?" you asked Wally.

"No, no. You just sit down," he said. "You've already worked today, you don't need to work any more. Relax, I'll be right over."

You chose the seat that faced the kitchen so you could watch Wally. "I love your kitchen. It's kind of vintage."

"Why thank you!" Wally said. He carried a plate of food over. It was pasta — seemingly fettuccini alfredo. He went back to the kitchen and took two more bowls. One was a salad, the other sliced chicken. He arranged everything neatly over the table, then sat down across from you.

"Oh wow. Looks delicious!" you said with a grin.

"I'm glad you think so."

Wally scooped a portion of pasta onto your plate, then told you to help yourself to everything else. You did, taking some salad and chicken. As you did so, he served himself, then popped open the bottle of wine and poured each of you a glass.

It felt like he was watching you, even when his eyes were focused on something else. He most certainly was watching you. But you watched him back. You were sure that he was aware of how focused on him you were, but that did not stop you from eyeing him up at every moment you got. Tension slowly filled the room like a leaky faucet as the silence drew longer.

You took a bite of pasta. It was, in fact, fettuccini alfredo. "This is really good. Have you made this before?"

"Yeah, I made it for Barnaby one time. He said he loved it, so I figured the recipe was perfect as it was," Wally said.

"Well, I agree with Barnaby. Speaking of which..." You stared at Wally, debating whether you should bring up the topic on your mind, and if you did, how you could best approach it. "He's... a..."

"A dog?" Wally smiled.

You were thankful that Wally jumped to the proper conclusion. "Yeah."

He shrugged a shoulder. "That he is, indeed. Not the weirdest thing this town's ever seen, I can guarantee you that!" He laughed quietly.

"What is the weirdest thing this town has seen?" you ventured.

Wally did not respond. Instead, he stared down at his plate of food. A couple of noodles disappeared from his plate. Your eyes narrowed. However, he did not explain what you had just witnessed at all. Instead, he looked at you with his eyelids low and a smile on his face and said, "(Y/N). That's your name, is it not?"

Wow, what a change of topic. You swallowed, feeling ill prepared for the conversation that was about to ensue. You took a sip of your wine and breathed deep. "No. My name is Charlie."

"Was your name ever (Y/N)? Say... just before you came here?"

You took a bite of your food and did not respond.

Wally continued. "See... I might have believed that your name really was Charlie, if I didn't already know that you're a liar."

He was staring at you, smiling. It was the expression of someone who was in love — but he surely was not. It struck you as odd. Perhaps his friendly, nearly romantic nature was an attempt to make you feel more comfortable telling him your secrets.

You took your fork and tied some pasta up around it. You took your time chewing the bite, looking around the room, pretending that Wally's eyes were not staring holes into yours.

Finally, you spoke again. "Maybe I'd just prefer to keep my past private."

"Sure, maybe you would," Wally said. He stared at his plate and, again, more food mysteriously disappeared. "But —"

"What is that that you're doing?" you asked, cutting him off. He looked at you, surprised. "The food is... it's... is this..." No matter how hard you tried, you could not put into words what you were seeing.

Wally chuckled. "I'm eating, silly."

You stared at him, unable to contain your appalled expression. "How?"

Slowly, Wally lifted a finger up to one of his eyes, pointing at it. "My eyes, of course."

What did he mean, 'of course'? What the hell about him eating with his eyes was so obvious? Then again, Barnaby was a dog, Poppy was a bird, and Howdy had four arms.

Radiation poisoning for sure. At least, that was what you concluded. But you did not admit that to Wally. Instead, you simply muttered, "Strange."

Wally grinned. "Congratulations on successfully changing the topic!" he said. He looked at his wine (the amount of liquid in the glass lessened) as you ate your salad. "But I'm afraid I can't let you dance around this anymore. We've danced long enough."

"But I really like dancing," you said.

"Ah ah ah..." He wagged a finger in the air. "No games. Tell me who you are. The real you. I'm just dying to know everything about you."

"Is this how you welcome people into your town? By quizzing them about their entire life?" you asked. Your nerves were on fire and your stomach was churning as you asked the question, but you forced yourself to appear nonchalant. You were playing with fire right now, and if you wanted to play mind games with Wally, you would need to act cool about it. As if you were not hiding 25 dead bodies in your past.

Something dark flashed over Wally's face then. Just like yesterday. You swore it was a trick of the light yesterday, but now it seemed like it was not. "I don't want your entire life story! No, no. I just want to know... what you're hiding." His head tilted sideways, just slightly. His voice was kind as always, making it sound like this was a totally normal conversation. "I've tried to be as welcoming as possible. But it's hard when I don't know anything about you."

"I'm not hiding anything, per say," you said. "I just don't want to talk about my past. I can be honest with you, about some things, if I really must."

Wally stared at you. It felt like you were going to melt into a puddle all over Wally's clean tiled floor.

"I'm, uh, sorry for lying," you said, breaking eye contact with him. "About my name. But I really do go by Charlie now. I have to."

"Why must you go by Charlie now?" Wally looked at his food, then his wine, then back at you.

You stared at your plate. "That's something I cannot be honest about."

"Look at me."

You looked up. Wally's cheeks had a slight rosy tint, as if he was embarrassed about demanding that you maintain eye contact.

You did not know what to feel upon seeing his expression. Every sensation within your body had turned into one big puddle of... of something. You were starting to discover that Wally could make you feel things you had never felt before.

Then, Wally cleared his throat and looked serious again (as serious as he could look with a smile on his face). "If you cannot tell me who you are, then I'll find out who you are the hard way. But you aren't going to like the hard way, (Y/N)." Wally said. Even his threat was spoken with a rhythmic lilt, like he was oh-so-happy to be sabotaging the new life you worked so hard to get to. He stared at you and leaned forward over the table slightly, as if he wanted to get closer to you. "You can trust me," he whispered.

Wally was right — you could not continue this dance with him any longer. If he was going to continue to be this persistent, you had to say something to get him off your back. But you also had to protect yourself.

So, what could you possibly say?

⫸——⫷