I vividly remember the day that they arrived at my home with barely any items, a confused look and only a practically water boarded phone, clutched tightly in their hands as they tried their best to speak to me in broken Spanish, a pathetic attempt, really.

Its been almost a month and a half since their cruise ship crashed and they seem to get more comfortable in my cold presence.. it’s annoying how it seems they don’t want to leave but I suppose leaving them now would be silly, albeit better.

My thoughts cloud my mind for a moment before I start to speak.

“When are you leaving?” I spoke in a simple, cold tone, my voice smooth as ever as I watch their expression. “You have a phone, clothes.. a job now. I rather not have a Sanguijuela in my home, ¿Entiendes?“ I glanced at them in the comfort of my jacket, hugging it tightly as If it was their own.