It took two insistent knocks in order for Cami to realize that there was someone at the door. She'd shot off the quick 'let yourself in' message (though she always said that, why didn't the blonde just let herself in all the damn time?) and gone to work on enchiladas. Enchiladas were good comfort food and, when done right, could go a long way on a budget.
Hilariously, the redhead didn't need much of a budget anymore. She'd been incredibly frugal to the point of once again not really buying clothing for herself. Shorts were tattered remains of old jeans that had been cut off when they'd started falling apart. Her shirt was new, or, had been...recently?
Time was not really something that Camille paid attention to anymore. Her weeks were marked by how much Mimsy's boy had grown, or alternately, how much Mimsy's
hair had. Cami lived for her family, now, and hardly interacted much with the Hunters overall.
Maebe, of course, would always be an exception. Her heart always ached when they were in the same room. Unrequited love, or perhaps more accurately doomed love, was never going to be anything but an aching wound in her chest. But Cami didn't have it in her to turn the woman away. Not now. Not ever. Considering everything that had happened? Maebe was
more than welcome. Not bothering to rinse her hands she used a foot to nudge the door open, wrinkling her nose slightly at the smell of smoke before her face smoothed again. "Enchiladas are in the works."
