Bone Machine: Part 3

So you start to think back, you say, hey, let's think back, where did this start?
So you start to think back.
The morning after, you had left. You remember leaving. Walked out of your own house and hoped she would find her way out, before you would come back.
Hours after, with your legs dead and heavy and your head collapsing because nothing was in it, you walked inside.
There she was. She was sitting on your kitchen counter, she had pulled herself up, she was pulling down a bowl. She had a gallon of almost sour milk and Trix.
She was still naked.
And you remember, you coughed, because you didn't want to say anything but you wanted her to know you were there.
And she was naked on your counter.
You remember feeling slightly dissapointed but slightly glad she didn't leave.
She turned to you and smiled.
She had no right canine. You didn't remember that.
She slips off your counter and comes to hug you.
You did not expect that. You did not expect to feel that shock in your heart when she wrapped her arms around you, pressing against you and whispering something you don't remember in your ear.
And as soon as she was there, she left. She came back with one of your tshirts on and a pair of your underwear and your socks.
She had made herself present in your life. She was not leaving.

Her name, at that moment, was Aydan Lipnicki.

You wonder what it is now.