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Unhappy that he wasn't answering her, Belladonna intentionally put a small bit of resistance into the arm he was holding, but she should have known better. By the time they had reached outside, the witch had on a face that plainly read that she was in a bit of pain. When he finally let go, it took all her willpower not to snatch back her arm and pout. Instead she gingerly rubbed it with her opposite hand, her face crumpled as she followed him toward the Undead dorms.
"The Lake... Callie and Melusine saw the Lake. Does it still look like how they saw it? All strange and there, but more like fog?" She asked softly, her voice betraying a bit of hurt as she continued to hold her arm. It would certainly turn a lovely shade by the end of the evening, if not an already lovely color in an hour or so.
Finally, after a few more moments of silence, Belladonna looked up to Mort and dropped her arm. Instead her hands went out to tug on his shirt sleeve, to make him look at her.

"Don't be mad! I'm sorry about the locker, I didn't know it was going to do that. I really am sorry." She said, nearly jumping to make her point more emphasized. "And all my questions... I didn't mean you specifically, I meant... 'You' as in the Clans. I... " She dropped his arm, stopping in the middle of the path. They weren't going to fight about this, not like two people who couldn't communicate. "I wasn't thinking, I was scared. I just talked. I am sorry." Belladonna finally settled on, her eyes cast down to the ground and both hands clenched around the strap of her bag.
This wasn't fair. All that had happened had changed him to something she didn't know.
And in a flash, Belladonna suddenly feared he'd lost more than just a bit of gleam on the trip.
A worm of horrible fear dug its way into her heart as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and face contorted into something so heartbroken, because in that moment she thought maybe he'd lost her on that trip too.

"N-no! Its..." Belladonna squeezed her eyebrows together in worried concentration, then finally dropped her gaze back to the ground. "I'm sorry..."
There was nothing to be sorry for, she hadn't really done anything wrong, not really... But for whatever reason, it still felt like it was her fault.
And worse of all, Mort wouldn't even touch her.
Instinctively, one hand covered the spot on her arm that now ached dully, but she wasn't sure what else to say except apologize some more. Her mind raced for something to say, something bright and happy that would dispel the metaphorical clouds around them. After another moment of thought, Belladonna chanced one quick glance at Mort before she mumbled a soft, "You can tell me things, you know. If something is bothering you, like that place... Just let me know. I'll listen."

The lake really didn't matter, it was simply something to say, but Belladonna felt the need to nod, to acknowledge his words. Yet after her nod, there wasn't anything else for her to say. She hadn't spent much time by the lake as Melusine, as the vampire was vastly adverse to the water, so Belladonna couldn't really say she felt anything in particular besides the creeping sense of foreboding. So instead she looked around and placed delicate fingers to the back of her neck, not sure of anything anymore.
"There's... This absolutely ridiculous hat I found from Melusine..." The witch finally settled on, uncertain whether to laugh from actual humor or from just something to break the tension with.
And it wasn't like she could just throw her arms around the boil and kiss him or hug him until things felt better. Anytime she got close, she mucked things up, so for now it was best to stay away.
But that hurt just as much as not being touched, so Belladonna dropped her hand from her neck and let it brush gently against his arm, but didn't let her hand stay. There was a difference between pushing and letting him know he could touch her... If he wanted.

A rumble of thunder from overhead startled the witch enough that she jumped, but thankfully not enough to make her cry out like before. Pink eyes found the sky, which had turned a nasty shade of perfect storm.
"We should probably get in..." Belladonna offered with a small nod toward the Undead dorms. She wasn't prepared to deal with the chill, but she'd do it for now.
That and she was a little interested to see what all had been collected of Melusine's.
"Who put these things in those lockers anyways?"

"Doesn't mean you have to go it alone." Belladonna replied with an equally small shrug, face now contorted into something close to frustration. Her brows skirted just past looking angry, but instead drooped down into looking a bit more sad as Mort removed his hands from the vicinity of being anywhere near her. The witch took a deep breath and gripped her bag tighter in attempt to steel her nerves.
She followed him inside, her head ducked down in acceptance of what had been shoved upon them. She wanted to grab his arm, to make him stop and face her. She wanted to hug him tight and tell him it was going to be ok. But she didn't. Belladonna let her fear of whatever gap had formed between them keep her from bridging it. If she let it go on much longer, it'd be too big to jump and she'd lose him forever.

As for the answer to her question, Belladonna ignored them and only stared forward into the space before her. It was kind of him to entertain her, but she wasn't sure how much longer she wanted it to be kept up. If he was tired of her, he could say so. Their intended trip for ice scream was probably already off due to the rain, so the witch wouldn't even have to act disappointed over that.
It was a bit of a disappointment to find Lanna was missing, but some small part of the witch counted this as something toward their favor. At the offer of the blanket, Belladonna took it with a small curtsey as way of thanks. Her throat felt raw and she wasn't sure if she could speak, so she didn't even bother to try. Instead, she only climbed onto Mort's bed, sure to put some distance between them before she deposited the bag onto the bed before her. With a flick the blanket was over her shoulder and pulled over her bust, so she wouldn't even accidentally cause any problems.

"Three books and a journal." Her own voice surprised her, something hollow and flat, devoid of any sort of excitement. "And the book hat." With delicate hands, Belladonna extracted the hat, its lace edges starting to fray and the flaps a bit limp. If she were to put the hat on, it would certainly have been fine, but at the moment, the witch wasn't really in the mood.
Some light you are. The moment the rain comes in, you go out.
At this juncture, Belladonna produced the books, one human book and two normal ones.
"Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen..." She read out loud, blinked at it and then offered it to Mort. With her hand outstretched, Belladonna couldn't help but chance one look at him, in hopes that he'd be looking away and she wouldn't have to face him.
Twinkle, twinkle little witch... Please don't pull at every stitch...

"Oh yes, Melusine was very much into books." When the book was refused, Belladonna tried not to think about how wonderful it would have been to cry in that moment. It would be so easy to just press her face to the old book and let it all out. Tears for this suddenly failing relationship, tears for the fact that Mort could only tell her half-truths about his new life and what he was up to, even tears for the poor vampire ghoul who had been dead for years and who no one else had cried for.
Instead Belladonna retracted the book and ran a light finger down the cover. It was a simple silhouette of a couple with their backs to the other, but their heads angled ever so slightly toward the other. The witch pursed her lips, but didn't bother to think about the significance of that.
"Her booth was all about books. She wanted to open a bookstore when she got out of Amityville..." It was sad that that had never happened, but even sadder still how she had gone out, screaming and crying and realizing her own life had been for naught.

The thunder above startled the witch enough that she dropped the book into her lap, though she couldn't say why it surprised her. She knew it was there, she had heard it before, but for whatever reason she couldn't shake the fear. Maybe she expected a Hunter to break through the door at any moment and demand revenge for their Island. Which was silly, but the thought still made a small cold finger slide down her spine.
As for the other two books, they were ones the witch was vaguely familiar with but only now took interest in, yet the journal held potentiality. That is, until she opened it and realized all the entries were simply reviews and Melusine's thoughts on the books she read. As it was full to the brim, Belladonna could only be momentarily flabbergasted by the vampire's dedication to reading. It was much vaster than she had expected.
So distracted by the entries was Belladonna, that she only looked up and noticed Mort when he spoke.
It took at least a minute to fully put together the sight of the lace-edged book on his head, a ridiculous garment all on its own but made all the more ridiculous by his lopsided smile.

Like a crack of lightening that surprised even her, Belladonna let out a bright laugh.
Her cheeks pinked at her suddenness, but she couldn't stop. It was just so funny. And really, what was she doing? Being upset at him for being upset about the horrible things going on? It was ridiculous.
That thought sobered the witch nicely and she pressed thin fingers to her mouth to stifle the remaining giggles. A moment passed, where she considered things and found just how silly she was being. Mort had risked his life to save them all, to give them all a new chance. It was ridiculous to think he hadn't considered Belladonna when he made that choice, and to be so silly as to get huffy over all this was just as ridiculous.
Belladonna heaved a sigh and moved to her knees. She ushered the books and journal and bag to the side so that she could move forward and closer to the boil before her. The one that had chosen her as his.

"You might want to stick to goggles and top hats." Belladonna said with a smile punctuated by a rumble of thunder. Deft hands removed the book from his head, but the witch instead replaced it with a warm kiss to his temple. "I hope this storm lasts a bit... I wanted ice scream, but I'd rather sit here for a few minutes with you." She added softly as she lowered herself to sit on the bed and looked up at him.
There was more she wanted to say, more about how she was here for him. How she could be his light, just sometimes she had trouble shining for herself. How she was so easily felled by even a touch. How that she'd protect him and give him what she could, whatever he asked of her. Anything and everything, so long as he asked her and no one else.
But none of those words came out. Belladonna opened her mouth, but nothing formed on her tongue. Instead, she closed her mouth as both hands reached out toward Mort.
Carefully, as though he were a small broken thing, she pulled him close and into a hug. There wasn't anything she could say, so she only sighed against his neck and held him tight, her arms locked around his ribs. She hoped it would be enough.

It was nice to realize after so much, that sometimes there were better things to do than cry. Some things relieved as much stress, made the world less dark and even though the chill was something she didn't expect, it was no less wanted. As though her intuition had been a spell she could cast, once his arms wrapped around her, the witch tightened her own hold and sighed.
Twinkle, twinkle little spell... Things are going oh so well...
At the rise in elevation, Belladonna's eyes swept only long enough to take in what was going on before she dived into what he was offering her. With a heady sigh she gave what he asked, but pushed no further than that. Her fingers curled in his hair, but she didn't press and when he pulled away, she at least had the wherewithal to blush and not demand more or even ask for it. She was content with a small smile that she hoped he liked.

"And you can tell me if I'm doing the same."
It was expected that he would, just as she would try to keep him somewhat in line. As for 'stupid', she wouldn't have necessarily called it that, but it was as close an approximation as she was going to get tonight.
"All Caps Callie? Was that her nickname or something?" The witch slid back to give him room, one hand finding the journal on instinct. With a gasp she waved it at him, suddenly realizing the implications he had pressed onto her. "I'll have you know that this is merely a book journal! Its only got her thoughts on all the books she read. Its probably rather fascinating and I'm sure Melusine wouldn't have minded. We would have been excellent friends!"
That might not have been true, but Belladonna wasn't ready to admit it. Already she hated even admitting to herself how in tune with the vampire ghoul she had been, how Melusine's own realization that her life had meant so little had rankled Belladonna enough to nearly physically hurt.

In any regard, Belladonna looked up to Mort with bright, expectant eyes and waited for the things in Callie's locker.
Really though, if he had found a Boob Meter, Belladonna definitely need to see that. No, like, really.

The witch giggled lightly at his reply, wholly unaware of his current predicament. It was probably for the best, as it would have opened a vast quantity of questions that Mort was most likely not prepared for and that Belladonna was highly unprepared to ask.
Thankfully, she was interested in Callie instead, so she only nodded as she listened. Momentarily distracted by his skittering hand, the witch's eyes darted from boil to hand, back and forth. She had heard he could use his limbs once they were detached, but Belladonna was fairly certain she hadn't seen it before.
"She sounds like she was fun to watch."
Almost curious, Belladonna wanted to ask if she had gotten weaponized, if maybe she had survived the test, but that was a little too somber for the couple currently.

Instead, a load groan exited the witch as the song began. She smacked a hand to her face to hide her blush, but looked out between the fingers at Mort.
"Aww man, this used to be one of my favorite songs as a kid."
Though, if this was the fourth or so song, what other songs were there? Did Belladonna know them? Did Mort know them?
"Has it been a good mixtape, er CD, so far?"
The dancing hand made the witch laugh, but she figured Mort was missing his appendage, so she leaned over and off the bed to offer her hand to the dancing one.
"She was pretty boring actually..." For a moment Belladonna felt bad about saying that, but her eyebrows quickly quirked into a determined face as so continued. "Melusine was a head thinker, you know? She was always in her own mind, always thinking of things..." Here the witch interjected with a short, sad laugh.

"There was this boy she liked... But she never talked to him, not until the end. I think she was scared of getting hurt. She read so many books, that she knew it probably wouldn't last so she never even talked to him. But then they were about to leave Amityville and she just... Tried it." It had been so strange to live another person's life, to see and feel and think what they did, but Belladonna wished things had turned out differently. Maybe Melusine would have been happy... "But it was too late... He liked her too, of course. But by the time they could be together, it was too late. They were captured..."
And everything had gone sour from there. It was... Horrid. Really and truly horrid.
"What about Callie? Any love interest for her?"

Unaware of what exactly she had engaged, Belladonna was forced to stay in strange half off the bed fashion for a few moments more as their hands danced. Well, actually Belladonna's hand accepted the thumb with finger and thumb, but then just wiggled around. Thankfully the thunder startled it into a pause, where the witch snatched it up and sat upright on the bed once more and offered Mort's hand to him.
She didn't really like talking about Melusine. It made her sad and hurt. She wished she could have been a guardian to the girl, to have pushed her to live her life more. It wasn't fair that it had been so wasted on the Hunters. It simply wasn't fair.
At Mort's comment, Belladonna only shrugged her shoulders, but accepted Mort's comfort with the smallest of smiles.

Yet when he began to speak of Callie, she listened intently and nodded at all the appropriate places. It sounded as though the two girls would have been fun had they only taken the chance to speak to each other. They were both cerebral, both dedicated to something and both seemingly afraid of getting hurt.
But then Mort mentioned something interesting...
"Were you with her until the end?" Because if he was, then he knew what had happened. He also knew the pain of being weaponized, but ultimately failing at it.
"Melusine thought something similar. Her last thought was that she knew she had the strength to do what she wanted, but that it was too late. And of course, the boil she liked..."
Another beat passed where the witch though, her eyebrows together in a worried manner.
"Did the lab they took Callie look like what you saw when you were on The Island?"

Ugh, they needed something happier than this depressing topic. The witch pouted for a moment, trying to think of something happy, something distracting.
All she could think of was to give him a kiss.
Eh, it'd have to do until the storm abated and they could go some ice scream.