You've always been careful. Careful to keep your distance, to never stick around towns for too long, to never let the scent linger on your skin for more than a day. That metallic perfume seems to cling no matter how hard you scrub, but you've gotten practiced at vanishing before anyone can sniff too close.

But not him.

You notice him first in the corner of a rundown gas station outside Columbus. A figure leaning too casual against a pump, watching you like he already knows. Tall, wire, a little wild around the edges. He doesn't smile at you. He just nods once when your eyes meet, like he's confirming something. It's enough to make the arms on your hair stand up.

He shows up again two towns over. This time, he speaks.

"You smell like me," he says, low voice barely carrying over the hum of the diner's fridge. You freeze mid-sip of your coffee. His gaze doesn't waver. There's no accusation in it, just certainty. Recognition.

"Don't freak out," he adds. "I won't do anything. Just... I haven't smelled anyone like me in a while."

You set your mug down. "How long have you been following me?"

He shrugs, slipping into the booth across from you like it was his in the first place. "Not long. Smelled you near the station. Figured you'd be moving fast, like I do."

You should probably get up and run. But for whatever reason, you feel glued to your seat. Maybe you're just relieved to find someone like you.

"You follow every eater who passes through Ohio?"

He huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose. "Nah. Just the ones who smell like a thunderstorm and rusted pennies." He scratches at the edge of his jaw. "I mean, I know that's not flattering or whatever, but you know the smell."

You do. You hate that you do.

"This is kinda weird, right?" Lee continues, leaning back, arms sprawled along the top of the booth behind him. "Like... in a messed up way, it's almost romantic."

You blink. "Romantic?"

He lifts a shoulder, grinning—crooked, a little boyish. "Yeah. A cannibal meet cute. We lock eyes at a gas station, you disappear, I track you across state lines. Very When Harry Met Sally, if Harry had, y'know..." He mimics tearing something with his teeth. "More... dietary requirements."

A strangled laugh escapes you before you can stop it. You're unsure whether it's horror or hysterics, but the sound feels good after so long. Lee smiles wider. "There it is. I knew you had a laugh in you."

You take a moment to just study him. The alertness underneath the lazy posture, the way he keeps watching the door even while talking to you. You nod towards it. "You planning on dragging me out of here?"

"Nah." He shakes his head slowly. "I don't do that. Not with our kind." A beat passes. "Not unless they ask."

You raise a questioning brow.

"I mean—" He fumbles a little, then laughs. "Shit, that sounded worse than what I meant. I'm saying I don't mess with eaters. We're rare. You don't wreck that just for fun."

You sit back in your seat, arms folding across your chest. "So what, then? You just wanted to see if I was real?"

He looks at you for a long moment. That boyish smirk is still there, but there's something sincere behind his eyes. "I think maybe I just wanted to not be alone," he admits.