“Ugly face? Are you fucking kidding me?”, she giggled in disbelief.

Carmen didn’t reply. She just disappeared into the kitchen and Shane frowned, assuming a what the fuck look. She had never thought that Carmen was ugly. Never. She was pretty sure that Carmen was very, very bizarre and maybe even too nerdy, but not for a second she had considered her as ugly.

She strutted to the kitchen and leaned against the door frame. Carmen was turned to the counter and showing her back, and looked busy checking something in a pot. Her figure was still wrapped into that baggy tracksuit, but a single strand of hair had freed itself from the bun and Shane noticed that it was very, very long and curly at the end. It almost reached the small of Carmen’s back.

“Carmen…”, she called her out, gently.

“Qué?”, she replied in Spanish, hurriedly, and Shane smiled fondly. She had noticed that Carmen used to speak in Spanish whenever she was a million miles away, deep in her thoughts.

“You aren’t ugly”, Shane stated, simply.

Carmen shrugged and didn’t reply.

“Did you hear what I just said, Miss Morales?”, Shane smiled, her eyes softening, “You aren’t ugly. In fact, you’re very pretty. A bit strange, but pretty”.

Carmen turned to her, pushing her glasses up her nose.

She opened her mouth as to say something, then closed it hastily. She sighed, shook her head, looking torn. Finally, she scratched her temple and shook her head again.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say…”, she muttered, embarrassed, “…Maybe you’re the one who needs glasses, not me”.

“Shut up”, Shane laughed heartily, shoving her hands into her pockets and walking over.

“By the way, do you really need those specs?”, she asked, quietly, stretching out her arms and slightly brushing the sidepiece.

Carmen stayed still, but stared at Shane intensely.

“I’m short-sighted. Very, very short-sighted”.

“Like a mole”, Shane repressed a smirk.

Carmen grimaced, acting offended.

“You know what, McCutcheon?”.

“What, Morales?”.

“That infamous night when you found me on the roof, I had decided that you were a sorta werewolf”.

Shane arched her eyebrows, amused.

“Oh, that’s nice! Why?”.

“Because you snap at your prowls, you drag them into your cave, and then eat them alive”, Carmen stated, flatly.