3- Comfort and cookies

I finish the last few hours of my shift in a blur. I'm still ecstatic because of my first real friend at last.

Anthony gives me a funny look as I give him a cheerful wave on my way out, something I have definitely never done before.

I live on the third floor of a tiny, cramped and somewhat rundown building. At least the rent is cheap and the landlady is the sweetest woman. Probably the closest thing I have to an actual friend.

She is a little old lady, human, but unusually accepting of Magics. She lives off the rent from the residents of the building and spends her days in her own little apartment on the bottom floor.

I used to have the bottom floor, but about a month ago it became clear that Maggie, the landlady, would not be able to manage the stairs much longer. I offered to swap with her. The climb is annoying, particularly after a long day at work. But I am only twenty-two years old. Not nearly old enough to complain over something as easy as a couple flights of stairs.

Trading apartments with Maggie did come with one nice advantage. Maggie spends almost all of her free time baking and making different treats which she is very happy to share with me. She will bake during the day and sell most of what she makes at a local market in the mornings. It doesn't really make her any money, but it covers the cost of the ingredients and lets her enjoy her retirement.

I finally reach my floor and find a plate of chocolate chip cookies covered in glad wrap sitting on the ledge of my window with a little note taped to it.

*Trying a new recipe. I asked Logan to take these upstairs for you. Let me know what you think.

• Love Maggie*

Logan is Maggie's grandson. He lives with his mum a few streets over. He often stops by to visit Maggie after school. She always provides him with treats in exchange for his assistance with running a few errands for her, like delivering cookies to my apartment.

He is eleven years old and still eager to please so it is a perfect arrangement for them both. I have also noticed a green thread connecting Maggie and her grandson. They are part of the reason I suspect it represents some kind of mentor type relationship.

I grin and let myself into my apartment, grabbing the plate on my way in. I dump my keys on the little table which I keep pushed up against the wall of the living/ dining/ kitchen type area.

I never have guests so the table is barely ever used. My apartment consists of a joint living/dining /kitchen area. A tiny bedroom and a balcony. There is a laundry room on the bottom floor connecting to Maggie's apartment which all the building residents share.

My apartment may not be five star, but it is safe and comfortable and gives me a place to call my own.

I was raised in a Magics orphanage where I stayed until I was eighteen. I moved around between crappy apartments for a couple years before settling here. My time in the orphanage was not pleasant as I did not fit in with the other Magics there, not that there were a lot of us.

Most Magics band together in groups. A Shifter child would never be sent to an orphanage, they would be taken in by other Shifters. Witches also like to keep together in their covens. Sorcerers like to take apprentices and will often take in young Sorcerers if they are available to train and raise in their own image.

They tend to be a little self obsessed in my opinion. No, the few Magics who end up in orphanages are mostly Succubi and Inccubi (their parents are notoriously promiscuous after all) as well as Magics who can't be identified, and most of those tend to figure out their powers fairly young and then are adopted into appropriate families.

Exhausted from a long shift, I pull my hair back into a low ponytail and change into my fuzzy, pink, unicorn adorned, flannel pyjamas and bunny slippers.

I set a packet of instant noodles to heat in the microwave of my rarely used kitchen and sit and eat my cookies as I wait. They are amazing. Note to self, tell Maggie how amazing these cookies are.

I eat quickly and burn my tongue a little as I down the last of the broth from the bowl. I swallow a few mouthfuls of water and leave my dishes by the sink before making my way through my bedroom to the bathroom where I brush my teeth before I stumble back to my bedroom. It is tiny but cosy. I have filled it with every kind of fluffy blanket, pillow and beanbag that I can afford.

Every time I decide to treat myself, it is to some new comfort object. Some people buy makeup and fancy clothes, others buy books or movies.

I get comfy, squishy objects. Okay and a Netflix subscription, but I only pay for half of that. Maggie and I share a Netflix account. She has no idea how to work most technology, so I set it up and pay for it, but she deducts a little of it from my rent in exchange for her own profile on it.

I once snuck a look to see what she was watching and had a private little giggle when I realised that she uses it to watch almost nothing but rom-coms. Not that I blame her, I watch them too, probably more often than most.

I don't have a TV, instead I have a laptop which is probably the most valuable item I own. I worked extra shifts for months to save up for it. I shift the laptop from where it sits in the pile of blankets and pillows on my bed and place it on the little side table.

With the laptop out of the way, I quickly place my cheap, flip phone on to charge (something I only own so work can contact me. Or Maggie on occasion) then I collapse into my bed and bury myself under the piles of blankets.

The thread connecting Megan and I has faded for now which tells me that she isn't close by. I close my eyes and relax, and it takes me barely any time at all to fall asleep after my long and emotionally exhausting evening. It had been a long night but surprisingly I hadn't met him. I don't know why but I longed to meet him again in my dreams. I must have been out of my mind.

A sudden knock on the door woke me up. From the sound of the person knocking on the door I could guess that he must not be easy to mess with.