Welcome to my humble abode (part 3: Bring your own castle)

"Right," Owen drawled, leaning against the lamppost and immediately regretting it when he felt something sticky. "Because nothing says 'wonder' like watching Mr. Tanaka lose his daily battle with those security shutters. Really magical stuff there."

A small smile tugged at Lilith's lips – not her usual knowing smirk, but something almost genuine. "You mock what you don't understand. Yet you still came back to check on me. Interesting, wouldn't you say? Perhaps your curiosity outweighs your skepticism.”

“Curiosity?” Owen felt his face heat up. "I didn't – that's not – Look, anyone would feel weird about leaving someone standing in the street all night. It's called basic human decency, not... whatever you think this is."

"Human decency," Lilith repeated thoughtfully, testing the words like they were an exotic food she wasn't sure about. "How peculiar. In my world, such concern for strangers would be... unusual."

"Yeah, well, your world sounds like it needs a serious customer service upgrade," Owen muttered, then immediately wondered why he was playing along with her alternate reality narrative. His thoughts tangled like earbuds left too long in a pocket—the more he tried to straighten them out, the worse they became.

"Speaking of which..." He gestured at her uniform. "Where'd you even get that uniform? Did you borrow it from a costume shop or something?"

Lilith blinked, her red eyes flickering like dying embers. "Costume shop?" The words rolled off her tongue as if written in a foreign alphabet.

"Yeah, you know," Owen continued. "One of those places where people dress up as characters for fun. Don't tell me you don't know what that is either." His voice carried a challenge, daring her to maintain this elaborate charade.

"I do not, in my world, attire carries significance..."

Owen snorted, the sound sharp as breaking glass. "Well, congrats. In this world, your 'significant attire' looks like you raided the wardrobe department of a low-budget fantasy movie." He crossed his arms, using sarcasm as armor against the growing unease in his chest.

Lilith's eyebrow arched with the precision of a master archer. Her amusement danced across her features like moonlight on water. "Low-budget? How curious. I assumed Earth valued practicality over aesthetics."

"Practicality? Yeah, well, Earth also values paying rent. Which brings me back to my original question: where'd you get the uniform?" He leaned forward slightly, invading her space like a detective closing in on a suspect.

Lilith hesitated, her pause deliberate. Then, with a smile sharp as cut crystal, she replied, "Let us say... I acquired it through reasonable means." Her fingers traced invisible patterns in the air, each movement precise as calligraphy.

"Reasonable means?" Owen echoed, his voice rising like mercury in summer. "What does that even mean? Did you charm someone into lending it to you or something?" His hand raked through his hair.

"I did not charm anyone," Lilith said sharply, though her lips twitched like a cat suppressing a purr. "Though I admit, your concept of 'charming' is... intriguing." Her eyes locked onto his, red meeting brown like fire meeting earth.

"Intriguing?" he said, his smirk spreading. "Careful, Princess. Keep talking like that, and people might start thinking you're human." The words came out softer than intended, betraying a hint of genuine concern that surprised even him.

"They wouldn't be entirely wrong," Lilith murmured, her voice gentle as falling snow. "Though I suspect humanity has much to teach me." For a moment, her regal façade cracked like thin ice, revealing something vulnerable underneath.

Owen froze, caught in the gravity of her sincerity like a planet trapped in orbit. The teasing words he'd prepared died on his tongue, replaced by an understanding that hit him like a thunderbolt. She was lost here—as out of place as a snowflake in summer, carrying burdens that weighed on her like invisible chains.

"Look," he said finally, his voice gruff as sandpaper but somehow gentle. "If you're serious about... whatever this is, you can't keep staying out here. My apartment isn't exactly luxurious, but it's better than freezing to death."

Lilith blinked, surprise flickering across her face. Then, that familiar spark of mischief returned to her eyes, bright as stars after rain. "How generous of you. Though I must admit, I expected better accommodations from someone destined to save worlds."

"Oh, great," he shot back, rolling his eyes with enough force to power a small city. "Here we go again with the 'saving worlds' nonsense. Newsflash: I'm not signing up for your interdimensional fan club anytime soon." But even as he complained, his feet were already moving, leading the way home like a compass finding north.

"Fan club? How quaint. Though I suppose it's fitting, given your..." She paused, savoring the moment, "...enthusiasm for such matters."

"Enthusiasm?" he scoffed, his shoulders hunching. "Lady, my idea of enthusiasm is hitting snooze five times before getting out of bed. You're barking up the wrong tree." His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, betraying the nervous energy he tried so hard to hide.

Lilith arched an eyebrow, her expression sharp as a blade's edge. She took a step closer, her movement fluid. "Am I? Because from where I'm standing, you seem rather invested in arguing with me." Her red eyes glinted like garnets catching firelight.

"Invested?" he echoed incredulously. His laugh came out hollow as an empty tin can. "I'm invested in making sure my life stays boring, thank you very much. No magical kingdoms, no cosmic responsibilities, no—"

"Cosmic responsibilities?" Lilith interrupted, her grin widening like a crescent moon. She leaned forward, close enough that Owen could see flecks of darker red in her irises. "Is that what you call them now? How poetic."

"Don't flatter yourself," Owen muttered. He pushed off from the wall, purposefully avoiding her gaze like a man dodging rain. "Come on, before I change my mind." His feet carried him forward with the determination of someone trying very hard not to think about what they were doing.

As they walked toward his apartment, the tension between them morphed like a shape-shifter trying on different forms. Owen kept stealing glances at her from the corner of his eye, quick as a pickpocket's fingers. Each time, he caught different details: the way her hair seemed to absorb the streetlight like fresh snow, how her steps made no sound despite the echoing concrete, the slight tilt of her head as she observed everything around her with the intensity of a scientist studying a new species.

"So," Lilith began after a moment, her voice dancing through the air. Her fingers traced patterns in the air as she walked. "Does this mean I'll finally get to see the inside of your humble abode? Perhaps you'll even show me your collection of moldy socks."

"Moldy socks? Wow, your imagination is almost as bad as your fashion sense." He gestured at her uniform, which somehow managed to look both pristine and otherworldly, like couture designed by stardust.

"My fashion sense?" Lilith countered, her voice smooth as silk hiding steel. She ran a hand down her uniform with elegant precision. "At least I don't dress like I raided a thrift store's reject bin."

"Excuse me?" Owen exclaimed, clutching his chest with theatrical flair. His worn jacket flapped in protest. "This is high-end discount chic. You wouldn't understand." He straightened his collar with exaggerated dignity, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk as he did.

Their words danced between them like a well-practiced duel, each retort sharper than the last. Owen found himself drawn to the way her eyes sparked during their exchanges, how her carefully maintained facade cracked just enough to reveal something intriguing beneath—like glimpsing a rare bird through leaves.

When they reached his apartment building, Owen paused at the door, keys jingling in his hands. "Alright, Princess," he said, glancing over his shoulder with feigned bravado. "Prepare yourself. This place makes Dungeons look like a five-star hotel."

Lilith smirked, the expression settling on her face like a cat claiming its territory. "Somehow, I doubt that. But I suppose beggars can't be choosers." Her eyes swept over the building's facade, taking in the peeling paint and crooked mailboxes.

"Beggars? Wow, thanks for the upgrade. Yesterday I was a loser; today I'm charity." His keys performed an impromptu acrobatic routine, nearly escaping his grasp.

"Progress," Lilith quipped, gliding past him into the dimly lit hallway like a shadow slipping under a door. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, creating a strobe effect that made her seem to move in stop-motion. "Though I must say, your hospitality leaves much to be desired."

"Yeah, well, maybe next time bring your own castle," he called after her, letting the door swing shut. The sound reverberated through the empty corridor, punctuating a moment that felt strangely like the beginning of something new.