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"I don't care."

"She's a retired fairy godmother."

"I still don't care."

"She knitted tiny sweaters for orphaned raccoons."

She got me again, curious despite myself, I asked, "...Why?"

"They looked cold."

I closed my eyes. Humans. "No."

She sighed. "Oh."

Then she smiled. Not forced. Not disappointed. Just... hopeful. "I'll keep asking."

Of course she would. I considered disappearing into another plane of existence. The bond refused like it had for an entire year. But suddenly, an idea occurred to me. A glorious one.

"How about a deal."

She immediately brightened. "I'm listening."

"If I heal your Mrs. Wilton..."

"Yes?"

"...you stop singing in the shower."

She froze. Slowly... very slowly... she turned toward the exact spot where I stood. "...You've heard me singing?"

I instantly realized my mistake. "It is difficult not to."

Her eyes grew wider. "...You've been there?"

"I've been bound to you."

"For..."

"A year."

"A whole year?"

"...Yes."

"..."

"..."

"Oh my gosh." She slapped a hand over her face. "You've seen me in my pajamas."

"Yes."

"My hair curlers."

"Yes."

"The avocado face mask."