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Posted: Thu Oct 08, 2015 6:37 pm
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The timing could not have gone better; Evan was stepping in just as Zack was stepping out. He'd been doing that recently, just slipping out in the night and not telling Evan what his plans were. Sometimes, Evan missed Zack and just wanted him to come home.
But sometimes, Evan didn't mind.
Tonight, he was even happy about it.
Zack had given him the usual greeting; what might have been considered a playful (if not overly excessive) shove as he bustled around. He had gotten the general warnings, that he'd heard a hundred times. The words fell on deaf ears, but Evan nodded and affirmed an occasional ,"Uh-huh," as Zack went down the list.
"—And don't touch my stuff. Unless you're doing my laundry, don't go in my room. Couch is fine, but if I decide to bring someone back tonight I don't want to be dragging you out of bed," Zack was saying. "—And don't wait up for me either. I might just not come home at all. —But do the laundry. And make sure when you're putting my shirts up that they go on the hangers—don't fold them like you did last time. They get all wrinkly and—you saw them."
"Uh-huh."
"There are dishes in the sink, I didn't have time to get to them. The pans are going to rust though, so—"
"Uh-huh."
"Do me a favor and take out the trash while you're in there."
"Uh-huh."
Zack didn't stop moving and Evan was too interested in toeing off his shoes and wondering how he was going to clean them.
"And I need you to come into work an hour early tomorrow. Set your alarm, I don't need you sleeping in again and missing work, I don't want to cover for you. If you get fired—"
"Uh-huh."
Zack was quiet for a second and then it sounded like he was moving nearby. The door clicked as he opened it, and he paused. "All right, then. Don’t get into trouble. Turn the television off before you fall asleep in front of it or I'll have to start charging you for electricity."
"Uh-huh," Evan said again, and whereas he had replied in a bland tone before, now he was sounding vaguely agitated.
"Lock the door when I go out. Don't call."
This time, Evan didn't have time to say "Uh-huh," before the door clicked shut.
The apartment was quiet for a moment and then he breathed a sigh and shrugged off his bag. He was unzipping it even as he carefully set it on the couch. He didn't say anything to Mauvian he had been carrying around and figured she was smart enough to know it was a good time to come out.
He'd worked his shoes off and walked back to the door, favoring his ankle now and dreaming of nothing more than collapsing on the couch with a bag of ice and a blanket and a good movie (or a bad one, it didn't matter).
…After he took care of that list. Locking the door was the easy park.
The apartment was well taken care of; it was decorated by someone who had decent enough tastes. A large television in the living room across from a comfortable, dark leather couch. Vinyl records decorated the wall. He had monochrome art and a well organized collection. There was a hallway leading deeper into the apartment; a bathroom door on the left was slightly open and the bedroom door was closed. The dining room was set nicely, a table set for four remained untouched. The kitchen was open and connected to the dining room, visible from the living room.
It was organized, sans the shoes Evan had now discarded and a few stray papers on the table by the couch. The kitchen light was on though beyond that, whatever mess it held was hidden by the walls and corners of the place.
Evan did not want to go into the kitchen, but he had one plastic container of leftovers from work, and he knew that once the cat had gotten out of the bag he was going to wind up in there, cleaning, and he was already dreading it. The sigh that fell from his lips spoke of his delight at the prospect.
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Posted: Thu Oct 08, 2015 7:11 pm
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Whoever it was that had been talking, Iolite instantly hated. She kept quiet through the ordeal though, keeping as still as possible not to give herself away, or Evan in trouble. Her ears perked at the sound of the zipper, but didn't immediately leave the bag. Black ears twitched, turning as she listened to Evan. Well, that had been... interesting.
"Well..." She said finally, sitting up in the process. "He's..." Assholish. A Jerk. Arrogant. Rude. Pompous. All of the above? "...Something." Iolite muttered, opting out of her previous choices and irritate Evan further. "He certainly has a very... odd way of showing that he cares." The cat continued, picking her words carefully. Did he really care though? It didn't seem like it. "He kind of reminds me of someone I know. However, she was a wee bit nicer."
"You should ice that. Prop it up or something." Io wondered how bad the extent of the injury was. She supposed it would just be minor bruising, but she'd heard of cases where simple actions caused far greater injuries. "...Perhaps call a doctor tomorrow?"
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Posted: Thu Oct 08, 2015 7:24 pm
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Evan supplied a noncommittal, "Mm," when she spoke of Zack; he kept his thoughts on the matter to himself and didn't have the energy to waste defending him, tonight. "No doctors. I hate doctors."
It wasn't the overpriced service, or the hours spent waiting in the ER, or even the needles, but he had never met a doctor he liked.
"It'll be fine. But thanks for worrying."
When Iolite was out of the way enough he reached into the bag and pulled out the plastic container containing some smushed meatloaf. "Do you want something to drink? Eat? Kitchen's over here."
He walked in, paused, and then sighed before he reluctantly continued trudging into the room. The leftovers from dinner were scattered across the counters still; things had only been hastily clean and Zack must have known that Evan couldn't have left any kitchen in such a terrible state. The thought of ice became a distant dream and Evan paused to deposit the meatloaf into the refrigerator before he paused to deal with a few used glasses and two absolutely vile pans. He started the water running immediately.
"Uhm, if you want to get comfortable, you can," he called. "Do you watch television or anything? I can put that on if you aren't hungry."
…He didn’t know the first thing about entertaining a cat. Except that they liked lasers, and that it was probably a bad idea to bring one out because apparently cats were onto that and that was a bad idea.
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 9:22 am
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 2:07 pm
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"It'll just take a minute," Evan insisted, but there wasn't much enthusiasm in his voice. "Zack has a hard time cleaning up after himself, but it's not really a big deal. He lets me stay here basically rent free, so I don’t mind."
Even if he seemed even more deflated now, he at least had the prospect of the couch to look forward to.
"Anyway, it's best to get this all taken care of before it hardens or starts to smell. My ankle's probably not too bad. The pan fell on it, so it'll probably bruise, but I can walk all right. I've had sprains and twists before and I don't think it's that bad. Smells bad, though. Sorry about that. You sure you don't want something to eat? I can cook something." He almost sounded like he was reassuring someone—her or himself, or the empty air; it didn't matter. "I'm good at that."
…But if she didn't want food, he didn't want an awkward silence and, shifting all his weight onto his good foot, he asked, "What do you read?"
…If he could believe she talked, he'd better be able to believe she read.
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 8:58 pm
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Evan had blown through a pan and a half at this point, but it did little to improve his enthusiasm. He was wrinkling his nose after her tail brushed against his face (and was perhaps taking to heart a bit too much her 'Dumbass' comment). He held his tongue for a few seconds more and then finally answered, "Little bit of everything, I suppose."
A cat that liked to read was still an odd concept, but he had fallen into a muted state of acceptance and wasn't contesting anything at this point. He might have just slipped into a state of understanding, or perhaps his conversation with Zack had driven him there first.
Two pans down, just a few more.
Except it was starting to look like an eternity when he considered that he had wanted to take a shower (maybe), thrown his clothes in the washer—oh, and Zack's, too—and maybe fix something small to eat, and…
Everything was sinking in, and Evan sighed heavily, hunching over the dishes more. He was having a very difficult time hiding how upset he was about all of this. His lips pursed and his eyes misted over and he scrubbed faster and a little less diligently before forcing himself to continue, "I like to try new recipes. I don't really have a favorite thing to cook, I like it all. I like experimenting. I like seeing people happy. I like doing something right. If you're ever hungry, let me know. I can cook well," he insisted. "I'll prove that to you. If not now, for breakfast."
He faltered then, and glanced at her. "—Are you spending the night? I don't actually know what you're doing here, still. I'm not kicking you out, I just don’t know if you remembered to tell me your plans."
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 10:11 pm
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"A little bit of everything, is not a bad thing." She murmured, watching him scrub the dishes.
Iolite turned her head to the side, watching as he seemed to zone out. She wondered what is was he thought about. How he handled things. She wondered about this Zack kid, and just why Evan let him boss him around like the way he did.
"I would like that sometime. Maybe sometime when Zack isn't in the picture. But for now... No. I won't stay the night. That could land you in trouble." And after what she'd seen here, Iolite didn't exactly want that. "As for plans... When does a cat ever reveal it's plans."
Propping her front paws against his arm, Iolite leaned over, shoving her face into his and rubbing against it, purring again. "Look. I get it. I'm a b***h and I've got the attitude to match it. My advice is to take it with a grain of salt. I don't always mean what I say, believe me though. If I mean something, you will be able to tell when that happens."
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 10:31 pm
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Evan seemed a bit surprised when she said she wasn't staying over, and perhaps a bit disappointed. He blinked, but then nodded, dismissing the thought. He might have been left to his own devices and stayed distracted, but when she pressed her face to his it was almost like she was a real cat, and he couldn't help but smile, even if only for a few seconds.
Then, he just seemed tired again, but the shadow of a smile remained for a few seconds longer. "I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to tell the difference, then. You don't make much sense, you know. But then, I can't tell if that's you, or the fact that you're a cat, or the fact that I suppose I'm still trying to figure out how you can talk. Or why you decided to waste your time with me."
He glanced around the kitchen as he scrubbed, just a bit slower now. "…If you were looking for a good evening or something interesting, I'm sorry. I guess I'm not that good for things like that. You might have been better off lurking in the streets. Maybe then you would have had a good time or something, at least."
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