Holding a broomstick in her right hand and dressed in her usual Drell nightwear, she walked down the stairs to the kitchen, turning on the light. As usual, she could not sleep, she could never sleep. Searching through the cupboards for something to eat, she only found a container of a strange smelling, exotic liquid. She could tell it was not alcohol, but she found herself drawn to it enough to pour a glass. Still bleary-eyed though, her aim was off, and she accidentally poured a bit on the kitchen table. "Fuck", she cursed to herself, and went to get a wet cloth to clean up the mess.
She found herself relieved when she found she had poured a bit in the glass as well, throwing the dirty cloth in the sink and moving over to take a sip. It was unnaturally cold, but tasted vaguely of fruit and milk. It would take some getting used to, but this was by far the best human drink she had tried, she mused. She had neglected to go grocery shopping though, so it was strange that this strange liquid was here.. He must have left it behind- no. She resolved not to think of him. Ever since they decided not to see each other any more for a while, she just wanted to get him out of her head. It had worked well, she had lived like a monk and done her duties as an assassin for the Hanar ("One Who Fathers Others" was her most frequent client, she remembers), but right now she just wanted to eat and go to sleep and she could not because of this damned human! The word was sour on her lips as she slipped briefly into solipsism.
I swiftly snap my targets neck from behind, he falls to the ground. I pray to Kalahira before turning around, a human stands right in front of me, I recoil in shock. You scared me, I say. I saw what you did, he says, I like it.
She shakes her head, staring down her drink and slowly recovering from the episode. Coughing in disgust at the memory, she moves over to the fridge, running her fused fingers across the handle before opening it. Locating a small packet, she opens it and takes out a slice of cheese, folding it in half. Closing the fridge door, she takes a bite. Eating slices of cheese at night had become a strange habit of hers since he moved out. She liked it because it seemed to help against her incessant solipsism, which had increasingly gotten on her nerves. It was a medicine in a way, and she did not have to associate its taste with her former significant other. She sighed. She knew she should not eat too much of it though. One slice a night. Nothing more.
She finished up her cheese, turned off the lights and went upstairs to sleep once again.