Darien felt like he could trust Oleander. Like she was some long lost friend. Something about her filled the void of the sister he wished he had. A mother he needed. A friend he desired. It was no accident that they met. He believes this - he knows it. And the crazy thing was he didn't even know her. Her solely being someone not human may have made him naive. His leg bounces the entire car ride, eagerly wanting to ask her a million questions then and now. Instead, he goes over them inside his head. As if he was preparing himself for some test. He was hyper, he felt alive.

Darien finally understood why he ran away to be here now. This was fate, right? Staring out the window, watching everything they passed, he can't help himself though and has to comment on her attire. "I like your t-shirt by the way...very, colorful?" His tone clearly gives away his humor at it, and he can't help but poke some fun at her. She looked like she could take it.

It felt like a lifetime getting to her place. But the awkwardness of the car ride was starting to get to him just as they arrive, thankfully. His moods were like an out of control ride at some shady carnival. Where he was giddy moments ago, he was starting to sink into his shy, introverted self. So when Oleander finally parks the car, he's the first one out and ready to go. Backpack and all. He takes a moment to look around. Apartments...I fucking hate apartments. Then again, it's so much better than my living quarters. But he's not one for being openly rude. At least, not today. "It's quiet." Bravo, Darien. Ever the one setting a new standard for conversation.

He waits patiently for her to lead the way to her place. He takes in all the senses; the smells, the sounds, the very weight of the air. His eyes were open, he could almost die right now knowing he wasn't alone in this world. Once inside, he's mindful to immediately take off his shoes and leave them beside her door (inside, of course, since he could hear children and didn't want some brats running off with his only pair of shoes). It was a polite habit his mother had beaten into him. Oleander didn't seem to have much anyways and the last thing he wanted to do was leave a mess. Her place was simple, and it certainly expressed her unconventional quirks and habits even with the limited furniture and decorations. "Do you have roommates?" He has to know. He couldn't take meeting anymore people today.

And awkwardly, he just stands there by her closed door. Arms folded, looking lost. Unsure what to do, where to sit. It all starts sinking in how unusual this was for him. His face certainly gave away his edginess. In fact, he almost forgot why he was here. Why did she invite me over? Couldn't we have talked at the Shelter? Oh God, she said she was a witch ... is she gonna do something to me!??! His eyes get wide at the thought, and being by the door, he feels some comfort in case he needed to run. "A witch, huh?" He says, almost insanely painful in his voice. "Is there good and bad witches?"

Oh God, she's gonna turn me into something terrible. She's gonna do something, isn't she? Why the fuck did I agree to this? Why the fuck am I just now realizing this craziness?! Fuck, I am so stupid! His legs get heavy, like he just got done running a gantlope or some shit. "You're a good witch ... right?"