Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was an odd feeling, standing outside his door and wondering if he should knock or just open it with the key. He knew Ofelia was there - he could see the bright, blue flickers of the television through the window and the steady hum of voices inside sounded just like those awful drama things she liked so much. It was an odder feeling to realize he was smiling, happy that she seemed so at home.

In the end he just unlocked the door and swung it open, tossing his duffle onto the hardwood entry floor.

"Honey, I'm home!" His voice boomed into the apartment with all the jolliness he could muster, though he was mostly trying to make sure she was decent without him sneaking up on her. Ofie had been pretty modest - which Sana had always found delightful, though he tried to be mindful.

As the door shut he was rounding the corner into the living room, only smiling crookedly as he found her sitting with the colorful mask on her face. He'd seen worse, though maybe not from her. He leaned a shoulder into the archway and studied her there from the hall.

"Did you miss me?"

It was cute the way she jumped up and immediately began to try and make herself both presentable and useful, earning her a gentle smile as he lazily followed her through the living room once she'd cleaned her mask off and ultimately to the kitchen. He leaned in that door frame, too, watching her fuss about with stew and tea and whatever else she was going to maternally cram down his throat.

He was so glad to be home that it was hard to hold it against her.

"I'm alright, Ofie. I wasn't for a while but I'm feeling better. Thanks for house sitting," he paused and glanced behind him at the side table in the entry way, just to make sure that there were no bills laying on the table top he had missed. He had stopped by a few times to collect them, even asked Ariel to check for him once, but Ofelia hadn't ever been home when he'd popped in. "I'm pretty sure I kept up with everything but I guess we'll find out if the power turns off, hm?"

There was an easy chuckle, one to ease the tension in the air, as he finally pushed his shoulder off of the doorway and righted his posture. The brute had wasted a little in the time between being locked up on his wonder and hiding at his cabin and, though still quite hulking, looked a bit slimmer through his face and shoulders. He was hungry, actually, and her stew smelled damn good. He was always hungry, he thought, now that he felt like he was finally on the mend.

"Starving, though. I've only had some coffee in the last few hours to keep me awake for the drive home." As he crossed the kitchen and opened the cabinet where he kept the bowls, he watched her from the corner of his eyes.

"Everything been okay here?" No Negaverse attacks? Ransom notes?

Kam had let her speak and nodded along at her chiding - of course a voicemail would have been good. Honestly, he had only even spoken to Ariel, so unaccustomed as he had become to letting other people get attached to his life. Sana was mad, too, but she could deal with her troubles in the top suite of the Xanis monstrosity for all that he was concerned.

Ophie, though?

He was smiling to himself as he sat down at the kitchen table with bowl and cup in hand. He didn't even respond to her for a moment, choosing instead to shovel a mouthful of stew into his mouth - then another, and another, and another as his stomach reacted to the food. It was damn good, simple or not. After he'd eaten a few bites and contented his raging hunger, his dark eyes lifted up to hers again where she sat atop his counter.

"Getting attached, O? I didn't think I'd ever see the day."

He was chuckling as he went back to his soup, but the look on his face had been regret because he knew she was right. If he had any hope of maintaining his life and keeping it from spiraling out of control again then that meant that he had to start caring more about the people he let into it. There was no way to ask people to depend on him and then keep bailing. He knew it. She knew it. For a moment he stopped eating and just stared into the warm orange of the liquid, tapping his spoon against the side of his bowl so he could watch the vibration across the top of the soup line.

"I won't do it again, but I need your help with something." A pause, and then. "Could you put the rest of the booze where I can't find it? Keep it if you want it, just in your room?" He looked up from the bowl finally and leveled his eyes on her with an uneasy smile. Of course he could do it himself, but that temptation was there in his veins, begging. "It'd be a shame to let the whole collection got to waste but I really think it would be best."

And just like that, Kam felt their dynamic shift.

Gone was the angry, timid girl he had rescued from street scum in the alley and here, in her place, was the mother hen that used her anger to scold him for his actions without making him feel as if she was actually angry with him. Just disappointed. Despite the recurring theme with people scolding him lately, he smiled into another bite of his food.

“Mmm,” he thought aloud as he shoveled through his stew, pretending to consider where certain things might be hidden. “There’s a handle of fireball tucked between my bed and the wall and there’s probably a flask full of something in the hall closet. I don’t remember when I used it last but -” he ended with a shrug. The flask was his ‘hiding cheap booze in the club’ tool and he hadn’t been out since the night he fought with Sana. It was undoubtedly still filled but he wasn’t going to check.

Ofie was right, he needed a shower and a good night’s sleep in his own bed. He watched her as she slid off of the counter and settled into her bones, more confident now that she had a little purpose. Kam was never the sort that liked to ask for help but knowing that Ofie wasn’t either always seemed to make his confessions a little smoother.

“I really am sorry, Ofie. I got in over my head in a way I can’t..” his eyes dropped from her and back to his soup bowl as silence found him again and fuddled his words. “Just, thanks for sticking around.”

The slam of her hand on the table was startling enough that Kam’s eyes had widened in unison with the gaze that snapped up to meet hers. Maybe there were people in the world that appreciated being coddled or treated like a child but part of the brute’s inclination towards solitary sulking was simply because he didn’t appreciate sympathy. Though his jaw tightened at her words and his eyes narrowed the moment he had control of them, there was nothing in his face to say that her advice was making him more angry than it made sense.

No, from Delphine to Fiona to Ariel to Sana, all the women in his life were permanent fixtures because they never wanted to put up with his bullshit. As her hand slid over the back of his in the only form of real comfort she was offering, Kam realized that he was about to add another name to that list. Ofelia was not going to let him stew on his aching soul.

She had spilled his stew though.

His meaty hand twisted beneath her grip so that he could clutch her fingers in his own, holding her close in his brooding silence while his eyes searched back through her own. Who was she, this street rat he had taken in? The roof over her head was not enough to make her feel as if she had a debt to repay - if Ofelia felt that he was not worth her time, that this home was not worth the trouble, then he had no doubt she would just slink back out into the streets and make herself at home in an alley. She was no more afraid of the Destiny City night than he was. That, too, made him curious.

“You’re my favorite street-dwelling parasite,” his first words after the silence he held during her speech were a deflection, an amusing quip to deflate some of the seriousness that had swelled up and threatened to consume them. This was his coming home, not a night to throw all of his woes on the shoulders of someone that was still learning to trust someone else in her life. Selfish as ever, he supposed.

Confident that his soup bowl had cooled enough, he released her hand and used both of his big mitts to bring his stew up to his lips - he gave it one loud slurp, drinking down enough that his stomach felt heavy and warm from it, then sighed in pleasure as he brought it down enough to speak again.

“I’m gonna finish eating, shower, and then get some ******** sleep while you hide all my booze. Would you protest too much if I take you to buy some things for your room tomorrow?” Both of his elbows leaned on the table, making it shift a little under the pressure of his weight. “If you won’t take a sorry, at least I can give you enough s**t that you don’t feel like a damn street urchin. This is home, Ofie.”