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It had been a long day, and coming home to a dark, empty house still felt strange. Achilleas toed off his shoes in the hall, set down the messenger bag with a little more care and flipped absently through the mail that he’d picked up on his way in. He knocked on a light on his way through to the kitchen, frowning when he found yet more mail that was for the previous occupants, people who clearly couldn’t set up a forwarding address.
He let it drop onto the counter so he could loosen his tie, shed the suit jacket so it landed carelessly over the back of the breakfast stool and wandered over to the fridge in the hope that by some miracle there might be something actually edible in there. No such luck.
He kept meaning to arrange for some kind of grocery delivery, because when did he ever get to a store, but along with the thousand other things on the to do list, it just never happened. He hadn’t appreciated quite how much Laura had done like that. One of the many things he’d taken for granted he guessed. She’d spat a long list of her own at him the night she’d demanded the divorce, and he had hardly been able to deny it. When he’d bitten back that he fucking paid for everything, she’d just looked at him and he could have sworn it was almost pityingly. Fuck that.
The problem with takeout though, he thought to himself as he gathered up the remnants of last night's chinese, was that it meant he had to spend twice as long in the gym. He’d be damned if he was going to get fat, his mother had already said he looked ‘tired’ which was mother speak for shit when he’d seen her last week. Maybe no takeaway. Or sushi. Sushi was not so bad.
He stacked the cartons together, dropped them into the trash and spent five minutes trying to compress it so he could close the lid before muttering a curse and heaving the whole bag out. Lugging it outside, he realised it was raining, and he remembered too late that he had no shoes on when the water soaked up through his socks. Great. Achilleas made a dash for it then, skittering around the side of the house to where the bins where, tossing the bag in triumphantly only to turn in dismay as he heard the front door slam shut.
You have got to be fucking kidding
He rattled the door handle,knowing already that it would do no good and remembered that hiding a spare key was also on his ‘to do’ list. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward despondently against the wood of the door. Keys, phone. Both sat lonely and uselessly on the console table in the hall.
Gritting his teeth, Achilleas looked up and down the street. It was late, many of the houses had only a couple of lights on, and he didn't know anyone yet. There had been a couple of cards, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him who they were from. And he wasn’t exactly at home much to accept baskets of welcome muffins. Pushing an agitated hand through his hair, he turned toward his nearest neighbour. There was at least signs of life. He would just have to make what was possibly the lamest first impression ever.
And so he trudged over the lawn and up onto the front porch, glancing down at himself and sighing. He caught himself straightening the tie he hadn’t taken off and then realised how ridiculous that was given he wasn't wearing any shoes. Damn it all.
He knocked on the door.
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It had been a long day, and coming home to a dark, empty house still felt strange. Achilleas toed off his shoes in the hall, set down the messenger bag with a little more care and flipped absently through the mail that he’d picked up on his way in. He knocked on a light on his way through to the kitchen, frowning when he found yet more mail that was for the previous occupants, people who clearly couldn’t set up a forwarding address.
He let it drop onto the counter so he could loosen his tie, shed the suit jacket so it landed carelessly over the back of the breakfast stool and wandered over to the fridge in the hope that by some miracle there might be something actually edible in there. No such luck.
He kept meaning to arrange for some kind of grocery delivery, because when did he ever get to a store, but along with the thousand other things on the to do list, it just never happened. He hadn’t appreciated quite how much Laura had done like that. One of the many things he’d taken for granted he guessed. She’d spat a long list of her own at him the night she’d demanded the divorce, and he had hardly been able to deny it. When he’d bitten back that he fucking paid for everything, she’d just looked at him and he could have sworn it was almost pityingly. Fuck that.
The problem with takeout though, he thought to himself as he gathered up the remnants of last night's chinese, was that it meant he had to spend twice as long in the gym. He’d be damned if he was going to get fat, his mother had already said he looked ‘tired’ which was mother speak for shit when he’d seen her last week. Maybe no takeaway. Or sushi. Sushi was not so bad.
He stacked the cartons together, dropped them into the trash and spent five minutes trying to compress it so he could close the lid before muttering a curse and heaving the whole bag out. Lugging it outside, he realised it was raining, and he remembered too late that he had no shoes on when the water soaked up through his socks. Great. Achilleas made a dash for it then, skittering around the side of the house to where the bins where, tossing the bag in triumphantly only to turn in dismay as he heard the front door slam shut.
You have got to be fucking kidding
He rattled the door handle,knowing already that it would do no good and remembered that hiding a spare key was also on his ‘to do’ list. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward despondently against the wood of the door. Keys, phone. Both sat lonely and uselessly on the console table in the hall.
Gritting his teeth, Achilleas looked up and down the street. It was late, many of the houses had only a couple of lights on, and he didn't know anyone yet. There had been a couple of cards, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him who they were from. And he wasn’t exactly at home much to accept baskets of welcome muffins. Pushing an agitated hand through his hair, he turned toward his nearest neighbour. There was at least signs of life. He would just have to make what was possibly the lamest first impression ever.
And so he trudged over the lawn and up onto the front porch, glancing down at himself and sighing. He caught himself straightening the tie he hadn’t taken off and then realised how ridiculous that was given he wasn't wearing any shoes. Damn it all.
He knocked on the door.
It had been a long day, and coming home to a dark, empty house still felt strange. Achilleas toed off his shoes in the hall, set down the messenger bag with a little more care and flipped absently through the mail that he’d picked up on his way in. He knocked on a light on his way through to the kitchen, frowning when he found yet more mail that was for the previous occupants, people who clearly couldn’t set up a forwarding address.
He let it drop onto the counter so he could loosen his tie, shed the suit jacket so it landed carelessly over the back of the breakfast stool and wandered over to the fridge in the hope that by some miracle there might be something actually edible in there. No such luck.
He kept meaning to arrange for some kind of grocery delivery, because when did he ever get to a store, but along with the thousand other things on the to do list, it just never happened. He hadn’t appreciated quite how much Laura had done like that. One of the many things he’d taken for granted he guessed. She’d spat a long list of her own at him the night she’d demanded the divorce, and he had hardly been able to deny it. When he’d bitten back that he fucking paid for everything, she’d just looked at him and he could have sworn it was almost pityingly. Fuck that.
The problem with takeout though, he thought to himself as he gathered up the remnants of last night's chinese, was that it meant he had to spend twice as long in the gym. He’d be damned if he was going to get fat, his mother had already said he looked ‘tired’ which was mother speak for shit when he’d seen her last week. Maybe no takeaway. Or sushi. Sushi was not so bad.
He stacked the cartons together, dropped them into the trash and spent five minutes trying to compress it so he could close the lid before muttering a curse and heaving the whole bag out. Lugging it outside, he realised it was raining, and he remembered too late that he had no shoes on when the water soaked up through his socks. Great. Achilleas made a dash for it then, skittering around the side of the house to where the bins where, tossing the bag in triumphantly only to turn in dismay as he heard the front door slam shut.
You have got to be fucking kidding
He rattled the door handle,knowing already that it would do no good and remembered that hiding a spare key was also on his ‘to do’ list. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward despondently against the wood of the door. Keys, phone. Both sat lonely and uselessly on the console table in the hall.
Gritting his teeth, Achilleas looked up and down the street. It was late, many of the houses had only a couple of lights on, and he didn't know anyone yet. There had been a couple of cards, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him who they were from. And he wasn’t exactly at home much to accept baskets of welcome muffins. Pushing an agitated hand through his hair, he turned toward his nearest neighbour. There was at least signs of life. He would just have to make what was possibly the lamest first impression ever.
And so he trudged over the lawn and up onto the front porch, glancing down at himself and sighing. He caught himself straightening the tie he hadn’t taken off and then realised how ridiculous that was given he wasn't wearing any shoes. Damn it all.
He knocked on the door.
Evangelina had only just woken up, she’d gotten home from an international flight from Sydney and drinks with a couple of other stewardesses later than she’d meant too. She had dreams of actually getting on some sort of normalized schedule, maybe even running in the mornings and having toast and orange juice for breakfast. But, it would be today.
A peak out of her curtains told her that it was already after dark. International flights were her double-edged sword. She loved them because… well… they were international flights, but she hated them because they wreaked havoc on her internal alarm system. She had a flight tomorrow night to Paris but tonight was all hers. Sitting ontop the counter of the island in her kitchen in a pair of pink silk pajama shorts with white cartoon bunnies on them and a matching solid pink silk camisole as she ate her breakfast of Betty Crocker German Chocolate Cake Frosting right from the plastic container with a spoon as she studied the invite to one of her cousin’s weddings.
She hated weddings. Her family had expectations. Bankers. Lawyers. Doctors. Her aunt would have an orgasm if she brought a plastic surgeon home with her. The upside-down spoon paused on her tongue as she sucked the icing off of it as her eyebrows drew together. Was it too late for her to try another dating site? One of her friends had joined something called dateamillionaire.com, maybe a nice rich older man… someone with an oxygen tank? That caused her to smile until she heard it.
Bang. Bang. Bang…
She jerked and the lid of her frosting container fell off the counter. There it was again. Bang. Bang. Bang. She looked at her refrigerator, who would be coming by at 11 p.m. at night? She swore quietly and hopped off the counter. If it was Nic again she was going to seriously go to pound on his head a little bit. They were so over. How many times did a girl have to find out he was sleeping with someone else for her to learn her lesson? She knew that answer for herself. One. It took exactly one time for her to find out she wasn’t the only woman he was seeing… she wasn’t even the only stewardess he was seeing. That had been a helluva awkward flight Moscow.
“Stop banging on my door. I’m coming… I’m coming.” She yelled. Her bare feet had toes painted a Barbie pink with white polka dots. Jerking the door open, her gaze came only the strange man’s chest. Her dark eyes flew upwards and her lips thinned. It wasn’t Nic and she didn’t know him. Had she slept with him last night after the fifth round of Tequila shots?
“Did I forget something at your place?” The words were out before she noticed he didn’t have her phone or purse or anything of hers in his hand. Pulling the door a little closer to her so he couldn’t see inside her house she frowned. “You aren’t about to tell me you have a weird rash or something, are you?”
She shifted and glanced around behind him. Was that rain? There was only a 30% chance tonight.
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Evangelina had only just woken up, she’d gotten home from an international flight from Sydney and drinks with a couple of other stewardesses later than she’d meant too. She had dreams of actually getting on some sort of normalized schedule, maybe even running in the mornings and having toast and orange juice for breakfast. But, it would be today.
A peak out of her curtains told her that it was already after dark. International flights were her double-edged sword. She loved them because… well… they were international flights, but she hated them because they wreaked havoc on her internal alarm system. She had a flight tomorrow night to Paris but tonight was all hers. Sitting ontop the counter of the island in her kitchen in a pair of pink silk pajama shorts with white cartoon bunnies on them and a matching solid pink silk camisole as she ate her breakfast of Betty Crocker German Chocolate Cake Frosting right from the plastic container with a spoon as she studied the invite to one of her cousin’s weddings.
She hated weddings. Her family had expectations. Bankers. Lawyers. Doctors. Her aunt would have an orgasm if she brought a plastic surgeon home with her. The upside-down spoon paused on her tongue as she sucked the icing off of it as her eyebrows drew together. Was it too late for her to try another dating site? One of her friends had joined something called dateamillionaire.com, maybe a nice rich older man… someone with an oxygen tank? That caused her to smile until she heard it.
Bang. Bang. Bang…
She jerked and the lid of her frosting container fell off the counter. There it was again. Bang. Bang. Bang. She looked at her refrigerator, who would be coming by at 11 p.m. at night? She swore quietly and hopped off the counter. If it was Nic again she was going to seriously go to pound on his head a little bit. They were so over. How many times did a girl have to find out he was sleeping with someone else for her to learn her lesson? She knew that answer for herself. One. It took exactly one time for her to find out she wasn’t the only woman he was seeing… she wasn’t even the only stewardess he was seeing. That had been a helluva awkward flight Moscow.
“Stop banging on my door. I’m coming… I’m coming.” She yelled. Her bare feet had toes painted a Barbie pink with white polka dots. Jerking the door open, her gaze came only the strange man’s chest. Her dark eyes flew upwards and her lips thinned. It wasn’t Nic and she didn’t know him. Had she slept with him last night after the fifth round of Tequila shots?
“Did I forget something at your place?” The words were out before she noticed he didn’t have her phone or purse or anything of hers in his hand. Pulling the door a little closer to her so he couldn’t see inside her house she frowned. “You aren’t about to tell me you have a weird rash or something, are you?”
She shifted and glanced around behind him. Was that rain? There was only a 30% chance tonight.
Evangelina had only just woken up, she’d gotten home from an international flight from Sydney and drinks with a couple of other stewardesses later than she’d meant too. She had dreams of actually getting on some sort of normalized schedule, maybe even running in the mornings and having toast and orange juice for breakfast. But, it would be today.
A peak out of her curtains told her that it was already after dark. International flights were her double-edged sword. She loved them because… well… they were international flights, but she hated them because they wreaked havoc on her internal alarm system. She had a flight tomorrow night to Paris but tonight was all hers. Sitting ontop the counter of the island in her kitchen in a pair of pink silk pajama shorts with white cartoon bunnies on them and a matching solid pink silk camisole as she ate her breakfast of Betty Crocker German Chocolate Cake Frosting right from the plastic container with a spoon as she studied the invite to one of her cousin’s weddings.
She hated weddings. Her family had expectations. Bankers. Lawyers. Doctors. Her aunt would have an orgasm if she brought a plastic surgeon home with her. The upside-down spoon paused on her tongue as she sucked the icing off of it as her eyebrows drew together. Was it too late for her to try another dating site? One of her friends had joined something called dateamillionaire.com, maybe a nice rich older man… someone with an oxygen tank? That caused her to smile until she heard it.
Bang. Bang. Bang…
She jerked and the lid of her frosting container fell off the counter. There it was again. Bang. Bang. Bang. She looked at her refrigerator, who would be coming by at 11 p.m. at night? She swore quietly and hopped off the counter. If it was Nic again she was going to seriously go to pound on his head a little bit. They were so over. How many times did a girl have to find out he was sleeping with someone else for her to learn her lesson? She knew that answer for herself. One. It took exactly one time for her to find out she wasn’t the only woman he was seeing… she wasn’t even the only stewardess he was seeing. That had been a helluva awkward flight Moscow.
“Stop banging on my door. I’m coming… I’m coming.” She yelled. Her bare feet had toes painted a Barbie pink with white polka dots. Jerking the door open, her gaze came only the strange man’s chest. Her dark eyes flew upwards and her lips thinned. It wasn’t Nic and she didn’t know him. Had she slept with him last night after the fifth round of Tequila shots?
“Did I forget something at your place?” The words were out before she noticed he didn’t have her phone or purse or anything of hers in his hand. Pulling the door a little closer to her so he couldn’t see inside her house she frowned. “You aren’t about to tell me you have a weird rash or something, are you?”
She shifted and glanced around behind him. Was that rain? There was only a 30% chance tonight.
Achilleas had hesitated before he knocked again, checking his watch for the first time and grimacing at how late it was. And he snatched his hand back to himself when he heard a voice from inside, straightened his shoulders and tried to look as presentable as was possible in wet socks and no jacket. All he could think about was the fact that he had to get some numbers to the director of emerging markets and now they were locked in his fucking house and he’d have go in even earlier and skip the gym to get them done.
As the door swung open, blue eyes dropped from where they might have expected to land upon a face, a good few inches down towards where a face actually was, and Achilleas plastered what he hoped was an unasssuming, friendly new neighbour smile upon his face.
He did look a little tired, his mother had not been wrong, but divorce would do that to a guy. Not to mention too many hours spent in the office, late nights and an embarassing lack of culinary skills for a man his age. But he was still an attractive man, wearing a pleasant expression that faltered a little as he took in her attire, and then slipped away entirely when she spoke.
“Did you...I’m sorry, what?” Achilleas was more than a little flummoxed, and he turned, almost as if expecting to find someone standing behind him who she must be addressing. But there was no one and so he could only turn a perplexed expression back upon the tiny girl in the doorway.
“I’m from next door” he explained, gesturing towards his house. “ I’m sorry we haven’t met, I’m Achilleas. I’ve managed to lock myself out and I..” He paused a moment, distracted by pink polka dot toenails - what the hell?- and then frowned if trying to figure something out, blurting a rather harried. “ Did you...who did you think I was?”
Because she had asked if she had left something, and then…
He was belatedly offended at the second question, and made some rather snap judgements about his new neighbour that were not all that flattering. His next words were delivered a little more stiffly.
“I apologise for disturbing you so late, I just hoped perhaps the last owners had stupidly left a key with you or something?”
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Achilleas had hesitated before he knocked again, checking his watch for the first time and grimacing at how late it was. And he snatched his hand back to himself when he heard a voice from inside, straightened his shoulders and tried to look as presentable as was possible in wet socks and no jacket. All he could think about was the fact that he had to get some numbers to the director of emerging markets and now they were locked in his fucking house and he’d have go in even earlier and skip the gym to get them done.
As the door swung open, blue eyes dropped from where they might have expected to land upon a face, a good few inches down towards where a face actually was, and Achilleas plastered what he hoped was an unasssuming, friendly new neighbour smile upon his face.
He did look a little tired, his mother had not been wrong, but divorce would do that to a guy. Not to mention too many hours spent in the office, late nights and an embarassing lack of culinary skills for a man his age. But he was still an attractive man, wearing a pleasant expression that faltered a little as he took in her attire, and then slipped away entirely when she spoke.
“Did you...I’m sorry, what?” Achilleas was more than a little flummoxed, and he turned, almost as if expecting to find someone standing behind him who she must be addressing. But there was no one and so he could only turn a perplexed expression back upon the tiny girl in the doorway.
“I’m from next door” he explained, gesturing towards his house. “ I’m sorry we haven’t met, I’m Achilleas. I’ve managed to lock myself out and I..” He paused a moment, distracted by pink polka dot toenails - what the hell?- and then frowned if trying to figure something out, blurting a rather harried. “ Did you...who did you think I was?”
Because she had asked if she had left something, and then…
He was belatedly offended at the second question, and made some rather snap judgements about his new neighbour that were not all that flattering. His next words were delivered a little more stiffly.
“I apologise for disturbing you so late, I just hoped perhaps the last owners had stupidly left a key with you or something?”
Achilleas had hesitated before he knocked again, checking his watch for the first time and grimacing at how late it was. And he snatched his hand back to himself when he heard a voice from inside, straightened his shoulders and tried to look as presentable as was possible in wet socks and no jacket. All he could think about was the fact that he had to get some numbers to the director of emerging markets and now they were locked in his fucking house and he’d have go in even earlier and skip the gym to get them done.
As the door swung open, blue eyes dropped from where they might have expected to land upon a face, a good few inches down towards where a face actually was, and Achilleas plastered what he hoped was an unasssuming, friendly new neighbour smile upon his face.
He did look a little tired, his mother had not been wrong, but divorce would do that to a guy. Not to mention too many hours spent in the office, late nights and an embarassing lack of culinary skills for a man his age. But he was still an attractive man, wearing a pleasant expression that faltered a little as he took in her attire, and then slipped away entirely when she spoke.
“Did you...I’m sorry, what?” Achilleas was more than a little flummoxed, and he turned, almost as if expecting to find someone standing behind him who she must be addressing. But there was no one and so he could only turn a perplexed expression back upon the tiny girl in the doorway.
“I’m from next door” he explained, gesturing towards his house. “ I’m sorry we haven’t met, I’m Achilleas. I’ve managed to lock myself out and I..” He paused a moment, distracted by pink polka dot toenails - what the hell?- and then frowned if trying to figure something out, blurting a rather harried. “ Did you...who did you think I was?”
Because she had asked if she had left something, and then…
He was belatedly offended at the second question, and made some rather snap judgements about his new neighbour that were not all that flattering. His next words were delivered a little more stiffly.
“I apologise for disturbing you so late, I just hoped perhaps the last owners had stupidly left a key with you or something?”
A look of confusion crossed the stranger’s face at her questions. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a one night stand. Well… This was awkward, wasn’t it? She blinked large, round eyes up at him. It was too late to backtrack so she just waited for him to fill in the blanks. Over the last year or so she’d gotten pretty good at reading people; after all, she saw a lot of them on the various flights. This one was a first-class flyer. He probably took his laptop with him and had to be told at least twice that he couldn’t use his wifi. The spoon in her hand behind the door still held some frosting so she stuck it in her mouth, sucking off the chocolate coconut frosting in silence as she stared at him.
His shirt was too tight and he had horrible taste in socks, but it was interesting he was missing his tie, jacket, and shoes. They were all confining things and interestingly enough they were the first things he’d shed for his comfort. That meant he was probably just getting home, in which case… dressed like that he was a workaholic. At least she had an excuse for being wide awake at this hour…
‘I’m from next door.’ That caught her attention as her eyes darted past him to the house next door. When had that sold? Her tongue wrapped around the end of the spoon sucking off the last of the chocolate before she glanced back at him as he continued to talk, almost formally to him. Her family would adore him. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t met, I’m Achilleas. I’ve managed to lock myself out and I..’ Her perfectly waxed eyebrows arched upwards curiously at him as something caught his attention, she followed his line of vision to her toes and gave them a wiggle just for his benefit. Seemed her new neighbor might have a fetish for toes… It was kinda weird… ‘Did you...who did you think I was?’
A smile full of dimpled amusement formed and she murmured a simple, “Hmmm?”, in reply to his question as if she would need him to explain more fully what he was asking. For a man standing on her stoop in the rain at almost midnight, he was very easily distracted by unimportant details. He must have found a bit of offense in her amusement at his expense since his next words were a bit more clipped, the politeness ebbing away.
‘I apologize for disturbing you so late, I just hoped perhaps the last owners had stupidly left a key with you or something?’
She pulled the spoon from her mouth and glanced at the house that last she had known had been vacant. Who’d been the last people to live there again? Opening the door to her house she motioned for him to come in, “I don’t think so but let me look through the desk real quick. No point in you standing in the rain but… um… please take your socks off. The floor is real wood.”
With that, she turned on a heel and sashayed back into the depths of her house headed towards an antiqued writing desk and opened the top right-hand drawer and pulled it completely out away from the desk. Her home was far too clean for the small beastly woman to have spent much time living in it but scattered around on most of the vacant space were various sorts of treasures. Some were family pictures, others were simple shabby chic knickknacks, and others were little things she’d picked up from around the world during her flights.
At the desk, she pulled open the right-hand side drawer completely out of the desk. Unlike the clean and rather organized state of the house, the drawer was not. There were batteries of an undetermined used state, a hammer, an old cellphone, several packages of duct tape with various patterns on them (because who bought grey duct tape anymore), pens, cords, a kazoo, a couple of dice for some sort of kinky game, and three sets of keys. Having all the contents spread on the desk she plucked the keyring sets out and then just wiped the rest of the contents back into the drawer again to leave it sitting on top of the desk.
“Do any of these look like the keys to your door?” With one hand on her hip and the other offering the keys, she stared up at him. “I didn’t even know the place next door had sold. How long have you been living there? And you haven’t changed the locks yet? You know that’s not very safe.” Said the young woman with the strange barefoot man standing in her house. Twisting her head a little more to meet his gaze, she frowned, “I’m Evie by the way.”
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A look of confusion crossed the stranger’s face at her questions. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a one night stand. Well… This was awkward, wasn’t it? She blinked large, round eyes up at him. It was too late to backtrack so she just waited for him to fill in the blanks. Over the last year or so she’d gotten pretty good at reading people; after all, she saw a lot of them on the various flights. This one was a first-class flyer. He probably took his laptop with him and had to be told at least twice that he couldn’t use his wifi. The spoon in her hand behind the door still held some frosting so she stuck it in her mouth, sucking off the chocolate coconut frosting in silence as she stared at him.
His shirt was too tight and he had horrible taste in socks, but it was interesting he was missing his tie, jacket, and shoes. They were all confining things and interestingly enough they were the first things he’d shed for his comfort. That meant he was probably just getting home, in which case… dressed like that he was a workaholic. At least she had an excuse for being wide awake at this hour…
‘I’m from next door.’ That caught her attention as her eyes darted past him to the house next door. When had that sold? Her tongue wrapped around the end of the spoon sucking off the last of the chocolate before she glanced back at him as he continued to talk, almost formally to him. Her family would adore him. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t met, I’m Achilleas. I’ve managed to lock myself out and I..’ Her perfectly waxed eyebrows arched upwards curiously at him as something caught his attention, she followed his line of vision to her toes and gave them a wiggle just for his benefit. Seemed her new neighbor might have a fetish for toes… It was kinda weird… ‘Did you...who did you think I was?’
A smile full of dimpled amusement formed and she murmured a simple, “Hmmm?”, in reply to his question as if she would need him to explain more fully what he was asking. For a man standing on her stoop in the rain at almost midnight, he was very easily distracted by unimportant details. He must have found a bit of offense in her amusement at his expense since his next words were a bit more clipped, the politeness ebbing away.
‘I apologize for disturbing you so late, I just hoped perhaps the last owners had stupidly left a key with you or something?’
She pulled the spoon from her mouth and glanced at the house that last she had known had been vacant. Who’d been the last people to live there again? Opening the door to her house she motioned for him to come in, “I don’t think so but let me look through the desk real quick. No point in you standing in the rain but… um… please take your socks off. The floor is real wood.”
With that, she turned on a heel and sashayed back into the depths of her house headed towards an antiqued writing desk and opened the top right-hand drawer and pulled it completely out away from the desk. Her home was far too clean for the small beastly woman to have spent much time living in it but scattered around on most of the vacant space were various sorts of treasures. Some were family pictures, others were simple shabby chic knickknacks, and others were little things she’d picked up from around the world during her flights.
At the desk, she pulled open the right-hand side drawer completely out of the desk. Unlike the clean and rather organized state of the house, the drawer was not. There were batteries of an undetermined used state, a hammer, an old cellphone, several packages of duct tape with various patterns on them (because who bought grey duct tape anymore), pens, cords, a kazoo, a couple of dice for some sort of kinky game, and three sets of keys. Having all the contents spread on the desk she plucked the keyring sets out and then just wiped the rest of the contents back into the drawer again to leave it sitting on top of the desk.
“Do any of these look like the keys to your door?” With one hand on her hip and the other offering the keys, she stared up at him. “I didn’t even know the place next door had sold. How long have you been living there? And you haven’t changed the locks yet? You know that’s not very safe.” Said the young woman with the strange barefoot man standing in her house. Twisting her head a little more to meet his gaze, she frowned, “I’m Evie by the way.”
A look of confusion crossed the stranger’s face at her questions. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a one night stand. Well… This was awkward, wasn’t it? She blinked large, round eyes up at him. It was too late to backtrack so she just waited for him to fill in the blanks. Over the last year or so she’d gotten pretty good at reading people; after all, she saw a lot of them on the various flights. This one was a first-class flyer. He probably took his laptop with him and had to be told at least twice that he couldn’t use his wifi. The spoon in her hand behind the door still held some frosting so she stuck it in her mouth, sucking off the chocolate coconut frosting in silence as she stared at him.
His shirt was too tight and he had horrible taste in socks, but it was interesting he was missing his tie, jacket, and shoes. They were all confining things and interestingly enough they were the first things he’d shed for his comfort. That meant he was probably just getting home, in which case… dressed like that he was a workaholic. At least she had an excuse for being wide awake at this hour…
‘I’m from next door.’ That caught her attention as her eyes darted past him to the house next door. When had that sold? Her tongue wrapped around the end of the spoon sucking off the last of the chocolate before she glanced back at him as he continued to talk, almost formally to him. Her family would adore him. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t met, I’m Achilleas. I’ve managed to lock myself out and I..’ Her perfectly waxed eyebrows arched upwards curiously at him as something caught his attention, she followed his line of vision to her toes and gave them a wiggle just for his benefit. Seemed her new neighbor might have a fetish for toes… It was kinda weird… ‘Did you...who did you think I was?’
A smile full of dimpled amusement formed and she murmured a simple, “Hmmm?”, in reply to his question as if she would need him to explain more fully what he was asking. For a man standing on her stoop in the rain at almost midnight, he was very easily distracted by unimportant details. He must have found a bit of offense in her amusement at his expense since his next words were a bit more clipped, the politeness ebbing away.
‘I apologize for disturbing you so late, I just hoped perhaps the last owners had stupidly left a key with you or something?’
She pulled the spoon from her mouth and glanced at the house that last she had known had been vacant. Who’d been the last people to live there again? Opening the door to her house she motioned for him to come in, “I don’t think so but let me look through the desk real quick. No point in you standing in the rain but… um… please take your socks off. The floor is real wood.”
With that, she turned on a heel and sashayed back into the depths of her house headed towards an antiqued writing desk and opened the top right-hand drawer and pulled it completely out away from the desk. Her home was far too clean for the small beastly woman to have spent much time living in it but scattered around on most of the vacant space were various sorts of treasures. Some were family pictures, others were simple shabby chic knickknacks, and others were little things she’d picked up from around the world during her flights.
At the desk, she pulled open the right-hand side drawer completely out of the desk. Unlike the clean and rather organized state of the house, the drawer was not. There were batteries of an undetermined used state, a hammer, an old cellphone, several packages of duct tape with various patterns on them (because who bought grey duct tape anymore), pens, cords, a kazoo, a couple of dice for some sort of kinky game, and three sets of keys. Having all the contents spread on the desk she plucked the keyring sets out and then just wiped the rest of the contents back into the drawer again to leave it sitting on top of the desk.
“Do any of these look like the keys to your door?” With one hand on her hip and the other offering the keys, she stared up at him. “I didn’t even know the place next door had sold. How long have you been living there? And you haven’t changed the locks yet? You know that’s not very safe.” Said the young woman with the strange barefoot man standing in her house. Twisting her head a little more to meet his gaze, she frowned, “I’m Evie by the way.”
He apparently wasn’t going to get an answer about who ever she’d mistaken him for, and really, Achilleas was not that fussed. He just needed to get back in his house. The fact that his nearest neighbour appeared to be some sort of air-headed, fluffy -because if he wasn’t wrong those were bunnies on those little shorts that he absolutely wasn’t looking at- ditz, was irrelevant. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on his toes impatiently as she produced a spoon from somewhere and shoved it in her mouth. God, he was hungry. The sad half a sandwich he’d stuffed in his face between meetings at midday seemed a long long time ago now.
When the girl stepped back and invited him in, Achilleas paused and looked down at his socked feet, grimacing a little as he noted that not only were they soggy and wet from the grass but that they were some terrible novelty socks that his nephew had bought him last Christmas. He hadn’t exactly been keeping on top of laundry and so had been forced to reach for the dregs of his sock drawer. Or rather, sock box ,because he hadn’t gotten round to unpacking anything into drawers yet.
“Of course..uh, thanks.” He said, awkwardly hopping on one foot and then the other to remove the offending socks which were quickly balled into his pocket. This was odd Achilleas judged silently, as he stepped barefoot into the hallway, hovering by the door and watching as the yet nameless girl walked further into the house.
As his gaze made the inevitable scan around the place, he cringed a little at the clutter that dominated every available surface. Not mess exactly but just, so much stuff everywhere. And when the girl called out to where she was pulling yet more stuff from a desk, he lifted a single brow and eyes the keys doubtfully.
“...they look like keys? “ he offered helpfully, not really having any clue as to what his front door key looked like, other than being metal and notched. Who memorised keys? “ I suppose I can try them?” And then when she went on he gave a shrug. “A month or so I guess. I work long hours, not at home much”. He sighed when she called him out on not having changed the locks already, held out his hand for those keys she’d found and resolved not to give her a spare if this was how much attention she paid to whose keys she had at any one time “It’s on the to do list” he said dryly. “I’ve been busy and that kind of stuff just tends to get pushed to the back of the queue you know?” Along with all the other life admin he hadn’t even realised existed until now.
“You mind if I go try these, Evie?” He said, shifting toward the door, the prospect of getting back to his own space too tempting.
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He apparently wasn’t going to get an answer about who ever she’d mistaken him for, and really, Achilleas was not that fussed. He just needed to get back in his house. The fact that his nearest neighbour appeared to be some sort of air-headed, fluffy -because if he wasn’t wrong those were bunnies on those little shorts that he absolutely wasn’t looking at- ditz, was irrelevant. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on his toes impatiently as she produced a spoon from somewhere and shoved it in her mouth. God, he was hungry. The sad half a sandwich he’d stuffed in his face between meetings at midday seemed a long long time ago now.
When the girl stepped back and invited him in, Achilleas paused and looked down at his socked feet, grimacing a little as he noted that not only were they soggy and wet from the grass but that they were some terrible novelty socks that his nephew had bought him last Christmas. He hadn’t exactly been keeping on top of laundry and so had been forced to reach for the dregs of his sock drawer. Or rather, sock box ,because he hadn’t gotten round to unpacking anything into drawers yet.
“Of course..uh, thanks.” He said, awkwardly hopping on one foot and then the other to remove the offending socks which were quickly balled into his pocket. This was odd Achilleas judged silently, as he stepped barefoot into the hallway, hovering by the door and watching as the yet nameless girl walked further into the house.
As his gaze made the inevitable scan around the place, he cringed a little at the clutter that dominated every available surface. Not mess exactly but just, so much stuff everywhere. And when the girl called out to where she was pulling yet more stuff from a desk, he lifted a single brow and eyes the keys doubtfully.
“...they look like keys? “ he offered helpfully, not really having any clue as to what his front door key looked like, other than being metal and notched. Who memorised keys? “ I suppose I can try them?” And then when she went on he gave a shrug. “A month or so I guess. I work long hours, not at home much”. He sighed when she called him out on not having changed the locks already, held out his hand for those keys she’d found and resolved not to give her a spare if this was how much attention she paid to whose keys she had at any one time “It’s on the to do list” he said dryly. “I’ve been busy and that kind of stuff just tends to get pushed to the back of the queue you know?” Along with all the other life admin he hadn’t even realised existed until now.
“You mind if I go try these, Evie?” He said, shifting toward the door, the prospect of getting back to his own space too tempting.
He apparently wasn’t going to get an answer about who ever she’d mistaken him for, and really, Achilleas was not that fussed. He just needed to get back in his house. The fact that his nearest neighbour appeared to be some sort of air-headed, fluffy -because if he wasn’t wrong those were bunnies on those little shorts that he absolutely wasn’t looking at- ditz, was irrelevant. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on his toes impatiently as she produced a spoon from somewhere and shoved it in her mouth. God, he was hungry. The sad half a sandwich he’d stuffed in his face between meetings at midday seemed a long long time ago now.
When the girl stepped back and invited him in, Achilleas paused and looked down at his socked feet, grimacing a little as he noted that not only were they soggy and wet from the grass but that they were some terrible novelty socks that his nephew had bought him last Christmas. He hadn’t exactly been keeping on top of laundry and so had been forced to reach for the dregs of his sock drawer. Or rather, sock box ,because he hadn’t gotten round to unpacking anything into drawers yet.
“Of course..uh, thanks.” He said, awkwardly hopping on one foot and then the other to remove the offending socks which were quickly balled into his pocket. This was odd Achilleas judged silently, as he stepped barefoot into the hallway, hovering by the door and watching as the yet nameless girl walked further into the house.
As his gaze made the inevitable scan around the place, he cringed a little at the clutter that dominated every available surface. Not mess exactly but just, so much stuff everywhere. And when the girl called out to where she was pulling yet more stuff from a desk, he lifted a single brow and eyes the keys doubtfully.
“...they look like keys? “ he offered helpfully, not really having any clue as to what his front door key looked like, other than being metal and notched. Who memorised keys? “ I suppose I can try them?” And then when she went on he gave a shrug. “A month or so I guess. I work long hours, not at home much”. He sighed when she called him out on not having changed the locks already, held out his hand for those keys she’d found and resolved not to give her a spare if this was how much attention she paid to whose keys she had at any one time “It’s on the to do list” he said dryly. “I’ve been busy and that kind of stuff just tends to get pushed to the back of the queue you know?” Along with all the other life admin he hadn’t even realised existed until now.
“You mind if I go try these, Evie?” He said, shifting toward the door, the prospect of getting back to his own space too tempting.
She hadn’t missed the fact that her new neighbor was eyeballing her house as if it were out of some sort of episode of Hoarders. It wasn’t cluttered it was arranged and it was clean. Inwardly snorting, he looked like the sort to have the cool sleek modern lines of his furniture. Houses like that had always left her feeling cold and empty. She liked candles and fuzzy socks, pillows on her couch that you could drop to the floor and sit there if you wanted. She wanted a house that felt like a home, not an office.
‘...they look like keys?’
Her eyebrows came together. That was the least helpful thing to say. She knew they would look like keys but he didn’t have a general idea of what his keys looked like? A feeling of how many ups and downs they had or the shape of it? How did he overlook something he used daily?
‘I suppose I can try them?’
Evangelina blinked at him, for someone who had turned up at her doorstep bare of foot and wet and claiming to be locked out of his house he sounded rather ungrateful. Tilting her head curiously at him, she offered them out too him. He continued speaking, answering her questions.
‘A month or so I guess. I work long hours, not at home much. I’ve been busy and that kind of stuff just tends to get pushed to the back of the queue you know?’
Her dark eyes sparkled with a knowing look. She’d had it pegged. He was a workaholic. Giving him a slow nod, she smiled. “Right…” She murmured, then continued more perkily. “Of course, yeah… I understand.” Evie didn’t understand but that was neither here nor there. There was never a right time to do something. You just had to do it and move on. Or that was her philosophy.
Awkward silence seemed to settle in between them as she waited for him to… She didn’t know… Disappear?
He shifted to the door and she straightened and offered him a smile. Yes. Please. Go.
‘You mind if I go try these, Evie?’
Evie waved her hand at him, “No. Not at all. Hopefully one of them will work.” She stepped towards the door subtly herding him back out into the rain. Reaching for the door, she offered a patient dimpled smile again. “Good luck and you can just leave them in that fake pile of poo over there by the sidewalk.” Nodding towards what looked like a pile of perfectly sculpted dog poo by a small sidewalk lantern, “I don’t have a dog so… you’re safe. I usually hide my key there for housekeeping while I am out of town. But yeah, just leave them in it and I’ll grab them later.”
Closing the door, she shook her head and went back to the kitchen. She suddenly didn’t want any more frosting. It was past midnight, she was wide-awake and it was raining. Puttering around the kitchen for a minute or two before she paddled her bare feet into her den and flopped onto the couch and flipped the television on. Had he managed to get into his house? She bit her bottom lip. A part of her was so relieved he was gone but another part of her wondered if she should peek out the window and check to see if she could see if he was still outside.
Muting the TV, she stood up and walked over to one of the large bay windows and climbed up on the window seat so she could peek out the curtains. Had he gotten inside?
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She hadn’t missed the fact that her new neighbor was eyeballing her house as if it were out of some sort of episode of Hoarders. It wasn’t cluttered it was arranged and it was clean. Inwardly snorting, he looked like the sort to have the cool sleek modern lines of his furniture. Houses like that had always left her feeling cold and empty. She liked candles and fuzzy socks, pillows on her couch that you could drop to the floor and sit there if you wanted. She wanted a house that felt like a home, not an office.
‘...they look like keys?’
Her eyebrows came together. That was the least helpful thing to say. She knew they would look like keys but he didn’t have a general idea of what his keys looked like? A feeling of how many ups and downs they had or the shape of it? How did he overlook something he used daily?
‘I suppose I can try them?’
Evangelina blinked at him, for someone who had turned up at her doorstep bare of foot and wet and claiming to be locked out of his house he sounded rather ungrateful. Tilting her head curiously at him, she offered them out too him. He continued speaking, answering her questions.
‘A month or so I guess. I work long hours, not at home much. I’ve been busy and that kind of stuff just tends to get pushed to the back of the queue you know?’
Her dark eyes sparkled with a knowing look. She’d had it pegged. He was a workaholic. Giving him a slow nod, she smiled. “Right…” She murmured, then continued more perkily. “Of course, yeah… I understand.” Evie didn’t understand but that was neither here nor there. There was never a right time to do something. You just had to do it and move on. Or that was her philosophy.
Awkward silence seemed to settle in between them as she waited for him to… She didn’t know… Disappear?
He shifted to the door and she straightened and offered him a smile. Yes. Please. Go.
‘You mind if I go try these, Evie?’
Evie waved her hand at him, “No. Not at all. Hopefully one of them will work.” She stepped towards the door subtly herding him back out into the rain. Reaching for the door, she offered a patient dimpled smile again. “Good luck and you can just leave them in that fake pile of poo over there by the sidewalk.” Nodding towards what looked like a pile of perfectly sculpted dog poo by a small sidewalk lantern, “I don’t have a dog so… you’re safe. I usually hide my key there for housekeeping while I am out of town. But yeah, just leave them in it and I’ll grab them later.”
Closing the door, she shook her head and went back to the kitchen. She suddenly didn’t want any more frosting. It was past midnight, she was wide-awake and it was raining. Puttering around the kitchen for a minute or two before she paddled her bare feet into her den and flopped onto the couch and flipped the television on. Had he managed to get into his house? She bit her bottom lip. A part of her was so relieved he was gone but another part of her wondered if she should peek out the window and check to see if she could see if he was still outside.
Muting the TV, she stood up and walked over to one of the large bay windows and climbed up on the window seat so she could peek out the curtains. Had he gotten inside?
She hadn’t missed the fact that her new neighbor was eyeballing her house as if it were out of some sort of episode of Hoarders. It wasn’t cluttered it was arranged and it was clean. Inwardly snorting, he looked like the sort to have the cool sleek modern lines of his furniture. Houses like that had always left her feeling cold and empty. She liked candles and fuzzy socks, pillows on her couch that you could drop to the floor and sit there if you wanted. She wanted a house that felt like a home, not an office.
‘...they look like keys?’
Her eyebrows came together. That was the least helpful thing to say. She knew they would look like keys but he didn’t have a general idea of what his keys looked like? A feeling of how many ups and downs they had or the shape of it? How did he overlook something he used daily?
‘I suppose I can try them?’
Evangelina blinked at him, for someone who had turned up at her doorstep bare of foot and wet and claiming to be locked out of his house he sounded rather ungrateful. Tilting her head curiously at him, she offered them out too him. He continued speaking, answering her questions.
‘A month or so I guess. I work long hours, not at home much. I’ve been busy and that kind of stuff just tends to get pushed to the back of the queue you know?’
Her dark eyes sparkled with a knowing look. She’d had it pegged. He was a workaholic. Giving him a slow nod, she smiled. “Right…” She murmured, then continued more perkily. “Of course, yeah… I understand.” Evie didn’t understand but that was neither here nor there. There was never a right time to do something. You just had to do it and move on. Or that was her philosophy.
Awkward silence seemed to settle in between them as she waited for him to… She didn’t know… Disappear?
He shifted to the door and she straightened and offered him a smile. Yes. Please. Go.
‘You mind if I go try these, Evie?’
Evie waved her hand at him, “No. Not at all. Hopefully one of them will work.” She stepped towards the door subtly herding him back out into the rain. Reaching for the door, she offered a patient dimpled smile again. “Good luck and you can just leave them in that fake pile of poo over there by the sidewalk.” Nodding towards what looked like a pile of perfectly sculpted dog poo by a small sidewalk lantern, “I don’t have a dog so… you’re safe. I usually hide my key there for housekeeping while I am out of town. But yeah, just leave them in it and I’ll grab them later.”
Closing the door, she shook her head and went back to the kitchen. She suddenly didn’t want any more frosting. It was past midnight, she was wide-awake and it was raining. Puttering around the kitchen for a minute or two before she paddled her bare feet into her den and flopped onto the couch and flipped the television on. Had he managed to get into his house? She bit her bottom lip. A part of her was so relieved he was gone but another part of her wondered if she should peek out the window and check to see if she could see if he was still outside.
Muting the TV, she stood up and walked over to one of the large bay windows and climbed up on the window seat so she could peek out the curtains. Had he gotten inside?
“Thankyou”. His hand closed around the keys, even as he took in her rather unimpressed expression. Maybe he’d been short with her, which wasn’t really fair as she did not owe him anything. Achilleas flashed Evie a quick smile in an attempt to soften his impatience, but he didn’t miss the fact that she seemed almost relieved when he shifted toward the door. He was all ready to make a gracious exit when she told him he could just return the keys to the…
“What?” Blinking, he followed her gaze to the sidewalk and some suspicious looking lump on the grass. “...that is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard” He said, squinting a little at the dark shape. But then something else she’d said caught his attention and he decided he would focus on that instead. “Oh you have a housekeeper? I could do with a recommendation, assuming yours is half decent?” He silently wondered how anyone could clean around all the knick knacks she had scattered around, but supposed that was not his business. “But that can wait anyway. Thanks again, I’ll go see if any of these work” He gave the keys a jangle and stepped out onto the porch again, lifting his hand before trudging back across the lawn towards his own house.
God, please let one of these work. The quiet sound of the door closing left Achilleas in no doubt as to how glad his neighbour was to have him gone, and he cast a glance back toward the other house, frowning slightly before hunching his shoulders against the steadily falling rain and hurrying back to the treacherous front door that had so betrayed him.
There was very little light, he looked up to see a porch lamp that clearly wasn’t working, muttering a curse under his breath as he juggled the keys and tried, unsuccessfully, to wrestle a small silver coloured one into the lock.[i[ Not that one then[/i]. The next started to slip in easily enough, and he felt a momentary hope that perhaps it was the right one, but it snagged and even though he jiggled it hopefully it was not budging. “ Come on then” he muttered to the last remaining key, adjusting his grip so he could slot it into the lock. Only his fingers were clumsy and he managed to fumble it and drop it into the step. “Oh for fucks sake, give me a break already”
He was not much happier when he finally got his hands on it again and it didn’t fit, and Achilleas sighed in the knowledge that he might have to go back to good neighbour Evie’s house and see if he couldn’t use her phone to call a twenty four hour locksmith. He would have to go back to return the keys anyway, because he certainly wasn’t going to go and mess around with a fake dog turd. Not for her, not for anybody. He had some standards.
Pushing a hand back through his hair which was beginning to curl in the rain, he turned toward the house next door, chancing he thought he spotted movement in the window. With another sigh, the man squelched back across the grass, more soggy and dismayed than he had been before, and tapped softly on the door again. Now he was cold, wet, still stuck outside and still hadn’t done those numbers he wanted to run.
He was apologetic when the door opened. “ No joy. I really am sorry to impose but do you suppose I could use your phone? I’m going to have to get a locksmith out I think.”
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“Thankyou”. His hand closed around the keys, even as he took in her rather unimpressed expression. Maybe he’d been short with her, which wasn’t really fair as she did not owe him anything. Achilleas flashed Evie a quick smile in an attempt to soften his impatience, but he didn’t miss the fact that she seemed almost relieved when he shifted toward the door. He was all ready to make a gracious exit when she told him he could just return the keys to the…
“What?” Blinking, he followed her gaze to the sidewalk and some suspicious looking lump on the grass. “...that is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard” He said, squinting a little at the dark shape. But then something else she’d said caught his attention and he decided he would focus on that instead. “Oh you have a housekeeper? I could do with a recommendation, assuming yours is half decent?” He silently wondered how anyone could clean around all the knick knacks she had scattered around, but supposed that was not his business. “But that can wait anyway. Thanks again, I’ll go see if any of these work” He gave the keys a jangle and stepped out onto the porch again, lifting his hand before trudging back across the lawn towards his own house.
God, please let one of these work. The quiet sound of the door closing left Achilleas in no doubt as to how glad his neighbour was to have him gone, and he cast a glance back toward the other house, frowning slightly before hunching his shoulders against the steadily falling rain and hurrying back to the treacherous front door that had so betrayed him.
There was very little light, he looked up to see a porch lamp that clearly wasn’t working, muttering a curse under his breath as he juggled the keys and tried, unsuccessfully, to wrestle a small silver coloured one into the lock.[i[ Not that one then[/i]. The next started to slip in easily enough, and he felt a momentary hope that perhaps it was the right one, but it snagged and even though he jiggled it hopefully it was not budging. “ Come on then” he muttered to the last remaining key, adjusting his grip so he could slot it into the lock. Only his fingers were clumsy and he managed to fumble it and drop it into the step. “Oh for fucks sake, give me a break already”
He was not much happier when he finally got his hands on it again and it didn’t fit, and Achilleas sighed in the knowledge that he might have to go back to good neighbour Evie’s house and see if he couldn’t use her phone to call a twenty four hour locksmith. He would have to go back to return the keys anyway, because he certainly wasn’t going to go and mess around with a fake dog turd. Not for her, not for anybody. He had some standards.
Pushing a hand back through his hair which was beginning to curl in the rain, he turned toward the house next door, chancing he thought he spotted movement in the window. With another sigh, the man squelched back across the grass, more soggy and dismayed than he had been before, and tapped softly on the door again. Now he was cold, wet, still stuck outside and still hadn’t done those numbers he wanted to run.
He was apologetic when the door opened. “ No joy. I really am sorry to impose but do you suppose I could use your phone? I’m going to have to get a locksmith out I think.”
“Thankyou”. His hand closed around the keys, even as he took in her rather unimpressed expression. Maybe he’d been short with her, which wasn’t really fair as she did not owe him anything. Achilleas flashed Evie a quick smile in an attempt to soften his impatience, but he didn’t miss the fact that she seemed almost relieved when he shifted toward the door. He was all ready to make a gracious exit when she told him he could just return the keys to the…
“What?” Blinking, he followed her gaze to the sidewalk and some suspicious looking lump on the grass. “...that is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard” He said, squinting a little at the dark shape. But then something else she’d said caught his attention and he decided he would focus on that instead. “Oh you have a housekeeper? I could do with a recommendation, assuming yours is half decent?” He silently wondered how anyone could clean around all the knick knacks she had scattered around, but supposed that was not his business. “But that can wait anyway. Thanks again, I’ll go see if any of these work” He gave the keys a jangle and stepped out onto the porch again, lifting his hand before trudging back across the lawn towards his own house.
God, please let one of these work. The quiet sound of the door closing left Achilleas in no doubt as to how glad his neighbour was to have him gone, and he cast a glance back toward the other house, frowning slightly before hunching his shoulders against the steadily falling rain and hurrying back to the treacherous front door that had so betrayed him.
There was very little light, he looked up to see a porch lamp that clearly wasn’t working, muttering a curse under his breath as he juggled the keys and tried, unsuccessfully, to wrestle a small silver coloured one into the lock.[i[ Not that one then[/i]. The next started to slip in easily enough, and he felt a momentary hope that perhaps it was the right one, but it snagged and even though he jiggled it hopefully it was not budging. “ Come on then” he muttered to the last remaining key, adjusting his grip so he could slot it into the lock. Only his fingers were clumsy and he managed to fumble it and drop it into the step. “Oh for fucks sake, give me a break already”
He was not much happier when he finally got his hands on it again and it didn’t fit, and Achilleas sighed in the knowledge that he might have to go back to good neighbour Evie’s house and see if he couldn’t use her phone to call a twenty four hour locksmith. He would have to go back to return the keys anyway, because he certainly wasn’t going to go and mess around with a fake dog turd. Not for her, not for anybody. He had some standards.
Pushing a hand back through his hair which was beginning to curl in the rain, he turned toward the house next door, chancing he thought he spotted movement in the window. With another sigh, the man squelched back across the grass, more soggy and dismayed than he had been before, and tapped softly on the door again. Now he was cold, wet, still stuck outside and still hadn’t done those numbers he wanted to run.
He was apologetic when the door opened. “ No joy. I really am sorry to impose but do you suppose I could use your phone? I’m going to have to get a locksmith out I think.”
Peering out the window into the rain it was hard to distinguish what was going on with her new neighbor on his porch. It seemed his porch light wasn’t working either. Catching the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth she continued to stare out the window at the shadow moving about on his porch. She’d been called a hot mess before but at this moment she knew easily that her new neighbor had her beat. He locked himself outside in the rain without his shoes, obviously didn’t have his phone with him or a spare key, he hadn’t changed the locks or the lightbulb in his security light.
What did it say about her that she had absolutely nothing better to be doing then staring out her window at the black shadow of her incredibly tall and hunky neighbor struggling with a simple set of keys. Either they worked or not and he was taking way too long to figure out if they did or didn’t.
A few minutes passed and she finally saw his defeated looking shadow step back into the light from her sidewalk lights. He walked right past the poo. Oh no! He was coming back to the door. She blinked then jerked the curtain back into place and hopped off the window seat before she stood there a moment before going to the door to stand there.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was softer this time. Defeated. Rolling her eyes upward, she sighed. She’d always been a sucker for an underdog. How many times had it bitten her in her frosting filled plush behind? Reaching for her doorknob, she opened the door and frowned at him.
‘No joy. I really am sorry to impose but do you suppose I could use your phone? I’m going to have to get a locksmith out I think.’
“Come on in,” She said without hesitation. “I am not sure you’ll get a locksmith at this time of night in this weather but sure, come in you can stay until you get your door unlocked. Let me grab you a towel and the phone is right over there and a phonebook in the drawer under it.” Giving a haphazard nod towards the aged gray wood entryway table in French Country style. A large mirror settled on top of the table showing the disheveled reflection of Achilleas, Next to the cordless phone sat a framed picture of Evangelina and her cousins. On the other side of the table was a photo of her and her brother right before they had gone ziplining, Dragon’s Breath Zipline, on the cruise they had gone on several years ago. A white ceramic water pitcher held Lavender flowers that could have been real if Evie was home more frequently.
Turning, she walked back into the hearth of her home before trotting upstairs to her bathroom to get some fresh towels for him and leaving him to make his call. After a few minutes, she trotted back down with some fluffy white towels that smelled of lavender and vanilla. Offering them out to him, “Any luck?” As soon as he’d taken the towels she started to the kitchen, just assuming he was going to follow her. “How do you like your coffee? You do drink coffee… you don’t just drink water and some sort of spinach and kale smooties do you?”
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Peering out the window into the rain it was hard to distinguish what was going on with her new neighbor on his porch. It seemed his porch light wasn’t working either. Catching the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth she continued to stare out the window at the shadow moving about on his porch. She’d been called a hot mess before but at this moment she knew easily that her new neighbor had her beat. He locked himself outside in the rain without his shoes, obviously didn’t have his phone with him or a spare key, he hadn’t changed the locks or the lightbulb in his security light.
What did it say about her that she had absolutely nothing better to be doing then staring out her window at the black shadow of her incredibly tall and hunky neighbor struggling with a simple set of keys. Either they worked or not and he was taking way too long to figure out if they did or didn’t.
A few minutes passed and she finally saw his defeated looking shadow step back into the light from her sidewalk lights. He walked right past the poo. Oh no! He was coming back to the door. She blinked then jerked the curtain back into place and hopped off the window seat before she stood there a moment before going to the door to stand there.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was softer this time. Defeated. Rolling her eyes upward, she sighed. She’d always been a sucker for an underdog. How many times had it bitten her in her frosting filled plush behind? Reaching for her doorknob, she opened the door and frowned at him.
‘No joy. I really am sorry to impose but do you suppose I could use your phone? I’m going to have to get a locksmith out I think.’
“Come on in,” She said without hesitation. “I am not sure you’ll get a locksmith at this time of night in this weather but sure, come in you can stay until you get your door unlocked. Let me grab you a towel and the phone is right over there and a phonebook in the drawer under it.” Giving a haphazard nod towards the aged gray wood entryway table in French Country style. A large mirror settled on top of the table showing the disheveled reflection of Achilleas, Next to the cordless phone sat a framed picture of Evangelina and her cousins. On the other side of the table was a photo of her and her brother right before they had gone ziplining, Dragon’s Breath Zipline, on the cruise they had gone on several years ago. A white ceramic water pitcher held Lavender flowers that could have been real if Evie was home more frequently.
Turning, she walked back into the hearth of her home before trotting upstairs to her bathroom to get some fresh towels for him and leaving him to make his call. After a few minutes, she trotted back down with some fluffy white towels that smelled of lavender and vanilla. Offering them out to him, “Any luck?” As soon as he’d taken the towels she started to the kitchen, just assuming he was going to follow her. “How do you like your coffee? You do drink coffee… you don’t just drink water and some sort of spinach and kale smooties do you?”
Peering out the window into the rain it was hard to distinguish what was going on with her new neighbor on his porch. It seemed his porch light wasn’t working either. Catching the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth she continued to stare out the window at the shadow moving about on his porch. She’d been called a hot mess before but at this moment she knew easily that her new neighbor had her beat. He locked himself outside in the rain without his shoes, obviously didn’t have his phone with him or a spare key, he hadn’t changed the locks or the lightbulb in his security light.
What did it say about her that she had absolutely nothing better to be doing then staring out her window at the black shadow of her incredibly tall and hunky neighbor struggling with a simple set of keys. Either they worked or not and he was taking way too long to figure out if they did or didn’t.
A few minutes passed and she finally saw his defeated looking shadow step back into the light from her sidewalk lights. He walked right past the poo. Oh no! He was coming back to the door. She blinked then jerked the curtain back into place and hopped off the window seat before she stood there a moment before going to the door to stand there.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was softer this time. Defeated. Rolling her eyes upward, she sighed. She’d always been a sucker for an underdog. How many times had it bitten her in her frosting filled plush behind? Reaching for her doorknob, she opened the door and frowned at him.
‘No joy. I really am sorry to impose but do you suppose I could use your phone? I’m going to have to get a locksmith out I think.’
“Come on in,” She said without hesitation. “I am not sure you’ll get a locksmith at this time of night in this weather but sure, come in you can stay until you get your door unlocked. Let me grab you a towel and the phone is right over there and a phonebook in the drawer under it.” Giving a haphazard nod towards the aged gray wood entryway table in French Country style. A large mirror settled on top of the table showing the disheveled reflection of Achilleas, Next to the cordless phone sat a framed picture of Evangelina and her cousins. On the other side of the table was a photo of her and her brother right before they had gone ziplining, Dragon’s Breath Zipline, on the cruise they had gone on several years ago. A white ceramic water pitcher held Lavender flowers that could have been real if Evie was home more frequently.
Turning, she walked back into the hearth of her home before trotting upstairs to her bathroom to get some fresh towels for him and leaving him to make his call. After a few minutes, she trotted back down with some fluffy white towels that smelled of lavender and vanilla. Offering them out to him, “Any luck?” As soon as he’d taken the towels she started to the kitchen, just assuming he was going to follow her. “How do you like your coffee? You do drink coffee… you don’t just drink water and some sort of spinach and kale smooties do you?”
He didn’t like Evie’s casual pessimism about the chances of him getting a locksmith out, but was grateful to step in out of the rain, grimacing a little as he realised his wet feet were now on her real wood floor. “Ah..sorry.” He hopped forward onto a rug instead and then worried that might be more precious, looking at the woman in alarm as he tried to judge where was safe for him to stand. Oh well. Too late now. He nodded at her instructions, moving over toward the phone even as his pyjama clad host disappeared further into the house.
Setting the failed keys down on the grey wood of the table top, Achilleas opened the drawer slightly hesitantly, as if afraid of what he might find. Thankfully, there was only the thick directory which he drew out to thumb through, picking up the phone to dial the first locksmith he found. It rang out. So did the second, and the third just directed him through an automated answering service that didn’t seem to register his responses so he gave up on that one too. It was the fourth try before he actually got to speak to a person, and Achilleas was hopeful he might be getting somewhere. “No, it's just a regular yale lock I think. No alarm. No. Or if there is its not working”.
He’d absently picked up the photograph of his neighbour with some other people, studied it for a moment before he set it down again and let his gaze drift to the other framed print. A boyfriend maybe? But no, there was some facial similarity that suggested a relative. Either that or she had odd taste.
“Tomorrow morning?! I really need someone tonight..I can pay extra, it’s not a..No.No I understand, if there is really nothing sooner you can offer..” He was frowning now, leaning back against the edge of the console table and fiddling with a button on his damp shirt. And as the girl in the pink pyjamas reappeared, she caught what was obviously the tail end of his conversation, a less than overjoyed. “Yes thank you. See you in the morning then”
He hung up the phone and set it back on the cradle before turning to look at Evie, accepting the towels with a half-worried glance at her. What was he going to do now? He supposed he could get his brother to come and pick him up but he lived all the way across town. About to open his mouth to tell her just how little luck he’d had, he blinked as the girl immediately walked away, still talking. Was he supposed to follow her? He judged yes, and so obediently trailed behind her, rubbing at his hair with the smaller towel as he went.
“I drink coffee” he asserted with a slight frown. There had been a time admittedly where Laura had gotten on some juicing craze and he’d left the house everyday with some variety of sludge in a cup, but he didn’t have time for that. “Just as it is.” And then because he was fretting, he went on, “They can’t get anyone out until morning. If you have a laptop I can drop my brother an email and he can come grab me. It’d be a couple of hours probably but I can wait…outside” He glanced out the window at the still falling rain. It’d be a miserable couple of hours but he wasn’t going to dissolve in a little water. It made the drying of his hair a little pointless though, and so Achilleas stopped, bundled the towel in his hands and stood there looking a little unsure.
Not only was this a painfully awkward situation to be in, imposing himself on a total stranger, but Achilleas was now faced with the fact that he was going to have to call off work for the morning at least. The locksmith couldn’t guarantee getting out until 9, by which point he’d usually have been at the office for a good hour, and that was if he went hard at the gym. He sighed. What a mess. “ I guess borrowing a cup of sugar would have been preferable, huh?”
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He didn’t like Evie’s casual pessimism about the chances of him getting a locksmith out, but was grateful to step in out of the rain, grimacing a little as he realised his wet feet were now on her real wood floor. “Ah..sorry.” He hopped forward onto a rug instead and then worried that might be more precious, looking at the woman in alarm as he tried to judge where was safe for him to stand. Oh well. Too late now. He nodded at her instructions, moving over toward the phone even as his pyjama clad host disappeared further into the house.
Setting the failed keys down on the grey wood of the table top, Achilleas opened the drawer slightly hesitantly, as if afraid of what he might find. Thankfully, there was only the thick directory which he drew out to thumb through, picking up the phone to dial the first locksmith he found. It rang out. So did the second, and the third just directed him through an automated answering service that didn’t seem to register his responses so he gave up on that one too. It was the fourth try before he actually got to speak to a person, and Achilleas was hopeful he might be getting somewhere. “No, it's just a regular yale lock I think. No alarm. No. Or if there is its not working”.
He’d absently picked up the photograph of his neighbour with some other people, studied it for a moment before he set it down again and let his gaze drift to the other framed print. A boyfriend maybe? But no, there was some facial similarity that suggested a relative. Either that or she had odd taste.
“Tomorrow morning?! I really need someone tonight..I can pay extra, it’s not a..No.No I understand, if there is really nothing sooner you can offer..” He was frowning now, leaning back against the edge of the console table and fiddling with a button on his damp shirt. And as the girl in the pink pyjamas reappeared, she caught what was obviously the tail end of his conversation, a less than overjoyed. “Yes thank you. See you in the morning then”
He hung up the phone and set it back on the cradle before turning to look at Evie, accepting the towels with a half-worried glance at her. What was he going to do now? He supposed he could get his brother to come and pick him up but he lived all the way across town. About to open his mouth to tell her just how little luck he’d had, he blinked as the girl immediately walked away, still talking. Was he supposed to follow her? He judged yes, and so obediently trailed behind her, rubbing at his hair with the smaller towel as he went.
“I drink coffee” he asserted with a slight frown. There had been a time admittedly where Laura had gotten on some juicing craze and he’d left the house everyday with some variety of sludge in a cup, but he didn’t have time for that. “Just as it is.” And then because he was fretting, he went on, “They can’t get anyone out until morning. If you have a laptop I can drop my brother an email and he can come grab me. It’d be a couple of hours probably but I can wait…outside” He glanced out the window at the still falling rain. It’d be a miserable couple of hours but he wasn’t going to dissolve in a little water. It made the drying of his hair a little pointless though, and so Achilleas stopped, bundled the towel in his hands and stood there looking a little unsure.
Not only was this a painfully awkward situation to be in, imposing himself on a total stranger, but Achilleas was now faced with the fact that he was going to have to call off work for the morning at least. The locksmith couldn’t guarantee getting out until 9, by which point he’d usually have been at the office for a good hour, and that was if he went hard at the gym. He sighed. What a mess. “ I guess borrowing a cup of sugar would have been preferable, huh?”
He didn’t like Evie’s casual pessimism about the chances of him getting a locksmith out, but was grateful to step in out of the rain, grimacing a little as he realised his wet feet were now on her real wood floor. “Ah..sorry.” He hopped forward onto a rug instead and then worried that might be more precious, looking at the woman in alarm as he tried to judge where was safe for him to stand. Oh well. Too late now. He nodded at her instructions, moving over toward the phone even as his pyjama clad host disappeared further into the house.
Setting the failed keys down on the grey wood of the table top, Achilleas opened the drawer slightly hesitantly, as if afraid of what he might find. Thankfully, there was only the thick directory which he drew out to thumb through, picking up the phone to dial the first locksmith he found. It rang out. So did the second, and the third just directed him through an automated answering service that didn’t seem to register his responses so he gave up on that one too. It was the fourth try before he actually got to speak to a person, and Achilleas was hopeful he might be getting somewhere. “No, it's just a regular yale lock I think. No alarm. No. Or if there is its not working”.
He’d absently picked up the photograph of his neighbour with some other people, studied it for a moment before he set it down again and let his gaze drift to the other framed print. A boyfriend maybe? But no, there was some facial similarity that suggested a relative. Either that or she had odd taste.
“Tomorrow morning?! I really need someone tonight..I can pay extra, it’s not a..No.No I understand, if there is really nothing sooner you can offer..” He was frowning now, leaning back against the edge of the console table and fiddling with a button on his damp shirt. And as the girl in the pink pyjamas reappeared, she caught what was obviously the tail end of his conversation, a less than overjoyed. “Yes thank you. See you in the morning then”
He hung up the phone and set it back on the cradle before turning to look at Evie, accepting the towels with a half-worried glance at her. What was he going to do now? He supposed he could get his brother to come and pick him up but he lived all the way across town. About to open his mouth to tell her just how little luck he’d had, he blinked as the girl immediately walked away, still talking. Was he supposed to follow her? He judged yes, and so obediently trailed behind her, rubbing at his hair with the smaller towel as he went.
“I drink coffee” he asserted with a slight frown. There had been a time admittedly where Laura had gotten on some juicing craze and he’d left the house everyday with some variety of sludge in a cup, but he didn’t have time for that. “Just as it is.” And then because he was fretting, he went on, “They can’t get anyone out until morning. If you have a laptop I can drop my brother an email and he can come grab me. It’d be a couple of hours probably but I can wait…outside” He glanced out the window at the still falling rain. It’d be a miserable couple of hours but he wasn’t going to dissolve in a little water. It made the drying of his hair a little pointless though, and so Achilleas stopped, bundled the towel in his hands and stood there looking a little unsure.
Not only was this a painfully awkward situation to be in, imposing himself on a total stranger, but Achilleas was now faced with the fact that he was going to have to call off work for the morning at least. The locksmith couldn’t guarantee getting out until 9, by which point he’d usually have been at the office for a good hour, and that was if he went hard at the gym. He sighed. What a mess. “ I guess borrowing a cup of sugar would have been preferable, huh?”
Oh, he totally drinks those green vegetable smoothies then… At his declaration of drinking coffee, she tossed a lopsided grin over her shoulder at him full of teasing mirth. ‘Just as it is.’ Evie bit back a laugh. She’d never understood the desire to drink the black liquid straight but if that was the way he wanted it, she’d fix it that way. Puttering around in her still clean kitchen she made the coffee. Favoring a strong cup, she started the relic of a coffee pot. Everyone was switching to cappuccino machines or those things with the little cup that fixed a single serving at a time but she still favored the pot and the sound of it dripping into that pot. It was like music therapy for her.
As she moved about the kitchen, she let him get comfortable and just moved around him as she set a few things on the island. Cupcake pan. Flour. Butter. Baking soda. Eggs. The list went on.
‘They can’t get anyone out until morning. If you have a laptop I can drop my brother an email and he can come grab me. It’d be a couple of hours probably but I can wait…outside.’ Pausing in her ingredient assembly, she looked over at him as he stared out her kitchen window.
“Oh, don’t bother your brother at this time of night and with the rain,” Evie laughed and shook her head, “Naw, you can just crash in the guest room, that way you’ll be right next door when the locksmith comes and he won’t have to wait on you to get here.” Having said that she went puttering about the kitchen again. Cupcake liners. Preheat Oven. Glancing back over at him as she moved about the kitchen, “It’s really not an inconvenience at all. I use the room when my family is in town, the rest of the time, it’s just a bit of extra storage.” She coughed lightly into her hand and shifted uncomfortably, why had it crossed her mind to buy a treadmill? After the treadmill, there was that yoga ball, and granted she’d stuck with that a little longer than she had the treadmill or the elliptical machine… all of it was unused. Wincing she turned back to her preparations for her cupcakes and cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl, whisking them before adding the rest of the wet ingredients.
He sighed and she spared him a glance, ‘I guess borrowing a cup of sugar would have been preferable, huh?’ She laughed in reply and shook her head. Her chestnut hair bobbed in its ponytail.
“Are you kidding?” Still whisking the eggs, she looked over at him and her hand slowed just a little. “It’s been far too quiet around this neighborhood. Borrow a cup of sugar. Borrow the shower. Borrow the guest bedroom… whatever makes you happy. I am dying to see the soccer moms' faces as they push their strollers in the mornings and you go for your morning run.” Teasing him with a wink and a bubbly laugh before she grinned and moved on to measuring out the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. “You do run, don’t you? Cause if not, and I don’t get to see them tripping over their tongues over you… I am going to be sorely disappointed. Pass me that sift.” She pointed at the wire sift next to him.
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Oh, he totally drinks those green vegetable smoothies then… At his declaration of drinking coffee, she tossed a lopsided grin over her shoulder at him full of teasing mirth. ‘Just as it is.’ Evie bit back a laugh. She’d never understood the desire to drink the black liquid straight but if that was the way he wanted it, she’d fix it that way. Puttering around in her still clean kitchen she made the coffee. Favoring a strong cup, she started the relic of a coffee pot. Everyone was switching to cappuccino machines or those things with the little cup that fixed a single serving at a time but she still favored the pot and the sound of it dripping into that pot. It was like music therapy for her.
As she moved about the kitchen, she let him get comfortable and just moved around him as she set a few things on the island. Cupcake pan. Flour. Butter. Baking soda. Eggs. The list went on.
‘They can’t get anyone out until morning. If you have a laptop I can drop my brother an email and he can come grab me. It’d be a couple of hours probably but I can wait…outside.’ Pausing in her ingredient assembly, she looked over at him as he stared out her kitchen window.
“Oh, don’t bother your brother at this time of night and with the rain,” Evie laughed and shook her head, “Naw, you can just crash in the guest room, that way you’ll be right next door when the locksmith comes and he won’t have to wait on you to get here.” Having said that she went puttering about the kitchen again. Cupcake liners. Preheat Oven. Glancing back over at him as she moved about the kitchen, “It’s really not an inconvenience at all. I use the room when my family is in town, the rest of the time, it’s just a bit of extra storage.” She coughed lightly into her hand and shifted uncomfortably, why had it crossed her mind to buy a treadmill? After the treadmill, there was that yoga ball, and granted she’d stuck with that a little longer than she had the treadmill or the elliptical machine… all of it was unused. Wincing she turned back to her preparations for her cupcakes and cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl, whisking them before adding the rest of the wet ingredients.
He sighed and she spared him a glance, ‘I guess borrowing a cup of sugar would have been preferable, huh?’ She laughed in reply and shook her head. Her chestnut hair bobbed in its ponytail.
“Are you kidding?” Still whisking the eggs, she looked over at him and her hand slowed just a little. “It’s been far too quiet around this neighborhood. Borrow a cup of sugar. Borrow the shower. Borrow the guest bedroom… whatever makes you happy. I am dying to see the soccer moms' faces as they push their strollers in the mornings and you go for your morning run.” Teasing him with a wink and a bubbly laugh before she grinned and moved on to measuring out the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. “You do run, don’t you? Cause if not, and I don’t get to see them tripping over their tongues over you… I am going to be sorely disappointed. Pass me that sift.” She pointed at the wire sift next to him.
Oh, he totally drinks those green vegetable smoothies then… At his declaration of drinking coffee, she tossed a lopsided grin over her shoulder at him full of teasing mirth. ‘Just as it is.’ Evie bit back a laugh. She’d never understood the desire to drink the black liquid straight but if that was the way he wanted it, she’d fix it that way. Puttering around in her still clean kitchen she made the coffee. Favoring a strong cup, she started the relic of a coffee pot. Everyone was switching to cappuccino machines or those things with the little cup that fixed a single serving at a time but she still favored the pot and the sound of it dripping into that pot. It was like music therapy for her.
As she moved about the kitchen, she let him get comfortable and just moved around him as she set a few things on the island. Cupcake pan. Flour. Butter. Baking soda. Eggs. The list went on.
‘They can’t get anyone out until morning. If you have a laptop I can drop my brother an email and he can come grab me. It’d be a couple of hours probably but I can wait…outside.’ Pausing in her ingredient assembly, she looked over at him as he stared out her kitchen window.
“Oh, don’t bother your brother at this time of night and with the rain,” Evie laughed and shook her head, “Naw, you can just crash in the guest room, that way you’ll be right next door when the locksmith comes and he won’t have to wait on you to get here.” Having said that she went puttering about the kitchen again. Cupcake liners. Preheat Oven. Glancing back over at him as she moved about the kitchen, “It’s really not an inconvenience at all. I use the room when my family is in town, the rest of the time, it’s just a bit of extra storage.” She coughed lightly into her hand and shifted uncomfortably, why had it crossed her mind to buy a treadmill? After the treadmill, there was that yoga ball, and granted she’d stuck with that a little longer than she had the treadmill or the elliptical machine… all of it was unused. Wincing she turned back to her preparations for her cupcakes and cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl, whisking them before adding the rest of the wet ingredients.
He sighed and she spared him a glance, ‘I guess borrowing a cup of sugar would have been preferable, huh?’ She laughed in reply and shook her head. Her chestnut hair bobbed in its ponytail.
“Are you kidding?” Still whisking the eggs, she looked over at him and her hand slowed just a little. “It’s been far too quiet around this neighborhood. Borrow a cup of sugar. Borrow the shower. Borrow the guest bedroom… whatever makes you happy. I am dying to see the soccer moms' faces as they push their strollers in the mornings and you go for your morning run.” Teasing him with a wink and a bubbly laugh before she grinned and moved on to measuring out the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. “You do run, don’t you? Cause if not, and I don’t get to see them tripping over their tongues over you… I am going to be sorely disappointed. Pass me that sift.” She pointed at the wire sift next to him.
Achilleas followed at Evie’s heels, coming to a halt in the entryway and watching as the girl bustled about in the kitchen, starting off the most antique coffee pot he thought he’d ever seen and then proceeding to continue pulling things out of cupboards and setting them on the worktop. The man hovered, towel still crumpled in his hands as he explained the rather depressing outcome of his call, and he blinked uncertainly at her offer.
“…are you sure? I don’t want to put you out”. It was a one thing to offer him shelter out of the rain for a few minutes, another entirely to let him stay. She didn’t know him from Adam after all. But he couldn’t deny that he was loathe to drag his brother out in the middle of the night, and it would make everything easier in the morning, and so Achilleas tried to feel as casual about it as she made it sound, leaning his hip against the edge of the counter top and going back to towelling at his hair as he watched her…baking?
He wondered if it was for his benefit, if she just wanted something to keep her busy whilst entertaining her new neighbour who clearly was failing at life. Or maybe she was an insomniac. The idea occurred to him that maybe he should be perturbed at her easy welcome.She might be a complete loon for all he knew. Lucky that she stood about as high as his shoulder, and that if it came to it he could likely keep her at bay with one hand placed upon the top of her head to keep her at arm's length. Out of stabbing distance.
She clearly wasn’t viewing him as any kind of threat, which was reassuring he supposed, and her offer of a shower was tempting, though he lost track of the thought as she went on, biting back a smile at her words and letting himself feel a little flattered.
Was she flirting? It felt a little like she was flirting, and he didn’t know quite how he felt about that. His brother would be laughing at him for even thinking about it, if he told him he was chatting to a girl in pink bunny pyjamas who had just invited him to stay over ,albeit in the guest room. His younger brother had always been better at this sort of thing, Achilleas overthought everything, he said, and maybe it was true. But as he shifted a little under Evie’s gaze, he considered that she hadn’t said she’d be tripping over her tongue, just that soccer Moms would. So maybe not flirting. God, shut up.
Handing over the sift she gestured toward by means of something else to focus on, Achilleas gave a little shake of his head and cleared his throat before answering.
“I hate to disappoint, but I usually run in the gym. Road running plays havoc with your joints you know. And if I did go out here, I bet it would be before your soccer Moms are out of the house.”
There. That was an honest answer. And entirely without game he realised, folding his arms across his chest and inwardly rolling his eyes at himself. If he were being honest, the divorce had shaken his confidence a little in a sphere he’d never been great in anyway. Mainly because he’d been so oblivious to the long list of his apparent flaws that Laura had cited in her reasons for leaving. He obviously hadn’t done a very good job at judging what she wanted, and it made him second guess himself now.Not that he should be first guessing even. He was overthinking again.
“Do you mind if I take you up on the shower?” he asked, suddenly wanting to take himself away for a few moments. Plus, he was a little cold and he was pretty sure he had mud between his toes which was gross. He couldn’t do anything about his clothes, but it would be good to wash off the day and whatever of the yard that was stuck to the bottom of his feet.
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Achilleas followed at Evie’s heels, coming to a halt in the entryway and watching as the girl bustled about in the kitchen, starting off the most antique coffee pot he thought he’d ever seen and then proceeding to continue pulling things out of cupboards and setting them on the worktop. The man hovered, towel still crumpled in his hands as he explained the rather depressing outcome of his call, and he blinked uncertainly at her offer.
“…are you sure? I don’t want to put you out”. It was a one thing to offer him shelter out of the rain for a few minutes, another entirely to let him stay. She didn’t know him from Adam after all. But he couldn’t deny that he was loathe to drag his brother out in the middle of the night, and it would make everything easier in the morning, and so Achilleas tried to feel as casual about it as she made it sound, leaning his hip against the edge of the counter top and going back to towelling at his hair as he watched her…baking?
He wondered if it was for his benefit, if she just wanted something to keep her busy whilst entertaining her new neighbour who clearly was failing at life. Or maybe she was an insomniac. The idea occurred to him that maybe he should be perturbed at her easy welcome.She might be a complete loon for all he knew. Lucky that she stood about as high as his shoulder, and that if it came to it he could likely keep her at bay with one hand placed upon the top of her head to keep her at arm's length. Out of stabbing distance.
She clearly wasn’t viewing him as any kind of threat, which was reassuring he supposed, and her offer of a shower was tempting, though he lost track of the thought as she went on, biting back a smile at her words and letting himself feel a little flattered.
Was she flirting? It felt a little like she was flirting, and he didn’t know quite how he felt about that. His brother would be laughing at him for even thinking about it, if he told him he was chatting to a girl in pink bunny pyjamas who had just invited him to stay over ,albeit in the guest room. His younger brother had always been better at this sort of thing, Achilleas overthought everything, he said, and maybe it was true. But as he shifted a little under Evie’s gaze, he considered that she hadn’t said she’d be tripping over her tongue, just that soccer Moms would. So maybe not flirting. God, shut up.
Handing over the sift she gestured toward by means of something else to focus on, Achilleas gave a little shake of his head and cleared his throat before answering.
“I hate to disappoint, but I usually run in the gym. Road running plays havoc with your joints you know. And if I did go out here, I bet it would be before your soccer Moms are out of the house.”
There. That was an honest answer. And entirely without game he realised, folding his arms across his chest and inwardly rolling his eyes at himself. If he were being honest, the divorce had shaken his confidence a little in a sphere he’d never been great in anyway. Mainly because he’d been so oblivious to the long list of his apparent flaws that Laura had cited in her reasons for leaving. He obviously hadn’t done a very good job at judging what she wanted, and it made him second guess himself now.Not that he should be first guessing even. He was overthinking again.
“Do you mind if I take you up on the shower?” he asked, suddenly wanting to take himself away for a few moments. Plus, he was a little cold and he was pretty sure he had mud between his toes which was gross. He couldn’t do anything about his clothes, but it would be good to wash off the day and whatever of the yard that was stuck to the bottom of his feet.
Achilleas followed at Evie’s heels, coming to a halt in the entryway and watching as the girl bustled about in the kitchen, starting off the most antique coffee pot he thought he’d ever seen and then proceeding to continue pulling things out of cupboards and setting them on the worktop. The man hovered, towel still crumpled in his hands as he explained the rather depressing outcome of his call, and he blinked uncertainly at her offer.
“…are you sure? I don’t want to put you out”. It was a one thing to offer him shelter out of the rain for a few minutes, another entirely to let him stay. She didn’t know him from Adam after all. But he couldn’t deny that he was loathe to drag his brother out in the middle of the night, and it would make everything easier in the morning, and so Achilleas tried to feel as casual about it as she made it sound, leaning his hip against the edge of the counter top and going back to towelling at his hair as he watched her…baking?
He wondered if it was for his benefit, if she just wanted something to keep her busy whilst entertaining her new neighbour who clearly was failing at life. Or maybe she was an insomniac. The idea occurred to him that maybe he should be perturbed at her easy welcome.She might be a complete loon for all he knew. Lucky that she stood about as high as his shoulder, and that if it came to it he could likely keep her at bay with one hand placed upon the top of her head to keep her at arm's length. Out of stabbing distance.
She clearly wasn’t viewing him as any kind of threat, which was reassuring he supposed, and her offer of a shower was tempting, though he lost track of the thought as she went on, biting back a smile at her words and letting himself feel a little flattered.
Was she flirting? It felt a little like she was flirting, and he didn’t know quite how he felt about that. His brother would be laughing at him for even thinking about it, if he told him he was chatting to a girl in pink bunny pyjamas who had just invited him to stay over ,albeit in the guest room. His younger brother had always been better at this sort of thing, Achilleas overthought everything, he said, and maybe it was true. But as he shifted a little under Evie’s gaze, he considered that she hadn’t said she’d be tripping over her tongue, just that soccer Moms would. So maybe not flirting. God, shut up.
Handing over the sift she gestured toward by means of something else to focus on, Achilleas gave a little shake of his head and cleared his throat before answering.
“I hate to disappoint, but I usually run in the gym. Road running plays havoc with your joints you know. And if I did go out here, I bet it would be before your soccer Moms are out of the house.”
There. That was an honest answer. And entirely without game he realised, folding his arms across his chest and inwardly rolling his eyes at himself. If he were being honest, the divorce had shaken his confidence a little in a sphere he’d never been great in anyway. Mainly because he’d been so oblivious to the long list of his apparent flaws that Laura had cited in her reasons for leaving. He obviously hadn’t done a very good job at judging what she wanted, and it made him second guess himself now.Not that he should be first guessing even. He was overthinking again.
“Do you mind if I take you up on the shower?” he asked, suddenly wanting to take himself away for a few moments. Plus, he was a little cold and he was pretty sure he had mud between his toes which was gross. He couldn’t do anything about his clothes, but it would be good to wash off the day and whatever of the yard that was stuck to the bottom of his feet.
“Are you use to people offering things to you that would put them out?” Evie chuckled as she used a butter knife to level the first cup of flour before grabbing the offered sift, dumping the flour into she sift, and sifting it into the bowl. Her earthy, whiskey-colored eyes darting an amused glance in his direction. He’d leaned his hip against her countertop and was toweling his hair dry, so he probably missed the small roll of her eyes before she scooped out the next cup of flour and began to level it too, repeating the process of dumping it into the sift and then sifting it into the bowl again. “Man, here I was just trying to be nice and neighborly and it taken in to be questioned.” The mirth and sarcasm were leaking out of her tone as she continued, shooting another look over at him again.
“I probably should just throw you back outside to fend for yourself in the cold… wet… rain.” She feigned a frown and finished the dry ingredients before she picked the wet ingredients up and dumped the bowl into the second bowl. Hmming softly, “I probably should but…” Evie couldn’t help looking at him again with her teasing, “But there is this feral cat that has been plaguing the neighborhood and I would hate to think that by me throwing you out there, you stumbled upon ole Cuddles out there and you lost your big toe to him.” Gesturing down at his bare feet, she cleared her throat. “Yeah. I can’t in good conscious throw you out there with absolutely no foot protection with Cuddles roaming the streets and I am quite positive I have no shoes that’ll fit those Hobbit feet of yours.”
Turning her attention back to mixing up the frosting batter, she was smugly smiling into the bowl with hardly a thought to him thinking she was possibly flirting with him. Did she seem like the sort of girl who’d leave a man guessing whether or not she was flirting? Hell! She’d answered the door in her pajamas thinking he was a one night stand who’d creepily ended up on her doorstep. What part of that screamed subtle flirter?
‘I hate to disappoint, but I usually run in the gym. Road running plays havoc with your joints you know. And if I did go out here, I bet it would be before your soccer Moms are out of the house.’
Her smile faltered and her head raised as she looked incredulously at her tall, dark, and disheveled neighbor. Was he kidding? He went to a gym to run?! Evie’s eyes blinked a couple of times before she tilted her head a tiny bit and stared at him as if he’d just been beamed into her kitchen by an alien.
“Okay. First of all that is beyond disappointing. Secondly, um… all running plays havoc with your joints, that is why the senior ladies on the street have taken up power walking… And thirdly, do you sleep? I mean you are up earlier than the soccer moms supposedly and out running around outside still dressed for work… mostly… at almost midnight?” Tilting her head at him, she narrowed her gaze but her teasing amusement still evident in her tone. “You’re a vampire aren’t you?! Damnit! I swear if you tell me you sparkle in the daylight… I’m going to have to have to move.”
She snickered and turned back to her baking, placing the cupcake liners into the pan diligently and then spooning out just enough batter for each cupcake. The room had grown quiet and she wondered what was going on through his mind.
‘Do you mind if I take you up on the shower?’ Pausing, she wondered if she’d said something out loud without realizing it. Blinking, and then she smiled. “No of course not.” Setting the spoon into the batter bowl, she fluttered a moment gathering her bearings in her own house. It was a hazard of not being home any more than she was.
“Um… Use the upstairs shower. The one downstairs is broke and I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.” She pointed through the kitchen doorway toward the hallway with an L-Shaped staircase leading the way to the upper rooms. “Go up the stairs and it’s the second door on the right. There are extra towels in the cabinet. Leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll toss them in the wash. I think my brother might have left some sweatpants here from his last visit… they might be a little small but they might work until your clothes are dry again… I’ll just leave them outside the bathroom door.” She directed, using her hands and body to point him in the right direction. She’d give him a few minutes to get situated and pop her cupcakes into the oven before she snagged his clothes and dropped them into the wash and found some of Tino’s sweatpants to leave for him like some sort of mystical fairy.
Her phone vibrated softly on the counter and she reached over grasping it long enough to see who the text message was from and flick it back off with an unimpressed roll of her eyes before setting the pan into the oven and setting the timer. It’d been a couple of minutes, she’d bounce upstairs and grab his clothes and throw them into the wash and head to the guest room to snag a pair of sweat pants for him.
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“Are you use to people offering things to you that would put them out?” Evie chuckled as she used a butter knife to level the first cup of flour before grabbing the offered sift, dumping the flour into she sift, and sifting it into the bowl. Her earthy, whiskey-colored eyes darting an amused glance in his direction. He’d leaned his hip against her countertop and was toweling his hair dry, so he probably missed the small roll of her eyes before she scooped out the next cup of flour and began to level it too, repeating the process of dumping it into the sift and then sifting it into the bowl again. “Man, here I was just trying to be nice and neighborly and it taken in to be questioned.” The mirth and sarcasm were leaking out of her tone as she continued, shooting another look over at him again.
“I probably should just throw you back outside to fend for yourself in the cold… wet… rain.” She feigned a frown and finished the dry ingredients before she picked the wet ingredients up and dumped the bowl into the second bowl. Hmming softly, “I probably should but…” Evie couldn’t help looking at him again with her teasing, “But there is this feral cat that has been plaguing the neighborhood and I would hate to think that by me throwing you out there, you stumbled upon ole Cuddles out there and you lost your big toe to him.” Gesturing down at his bare feet, she cleared her throat. “Yeah. I can’t in good conscious throw you out there with absolutely no foot protection with Cuddles roaming the streets and I am quite positive I have no shoes that’ll fit those Hobbit feet of yours.”
Turning her attention back to mixing up the frosting batter, she was smugly smiling into the bowl with hardly a thought to him thinking she was possibly flirting with him. Did she seem like the sort of girl who’d leave a man guessing whether or not she was flirting? Hell! She’d answered the door in her pajamas thinking he was a one night stand who’d creepily ended up on her doorstep. What part of that screamed subtle flirter?
‘I hate to disappoint, but I usually run in the gym. Road running plays havoc with your joints you know. And if I did go out here, I bet it would be before your soccer Moms are out of the house.’
Her smile faltered and her head raised as she looked incredulously at her tall, dark, and disheveled neighbor. Was he kidding? He went to a gym to run?! Evie’s eyes blinked a couple of times before she tilted her head a tiny bit and stared at him as if he’d just been beamed into her kitchen by an alien.
“Okay. First of all that is beyond disappointing. Secondly, um… all running plays havoc with your joints, that is why the senior ladies on the street have taken up power walking… And thirdly, do you sleep? I mean you are up earlier than the soccer moms supposedly and out running around outside still dressed for work… mostly… at almost midnight?” Tilting her head at him, she narrowed her gaze but her teasing amusement still evident in her tone. “You’re a vampire aren’t you?! Damnit! I swear if you tell me you sparkle in the daylight… I’m going to have to have to move.”
She snickered and turned back to her baking, placing the cupcake liners into the pan diligently and then spooning out just enough batter for each cupcake. The room had grown quiet and she wondered what was going on through his mind.
‘Do you mind if I take you up on the shower?’ Pausing, she wondered if she’d said something out loud without realizing it. Blinking, and then she smiled. “No of course not.” Setting the spoon into the batter bowl, she fluttered a moment gathering her bearings in her own house. It was a hazard of not being home any more than she was.
“Um… Use the upstairs shower. The one downstairs is broke and I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.” She pointed through the kitchen doorway toward the hallway with an L-Shaped staircase leading the way to the upper rooms. “Go up the stairs and it’s the second door on the right. There are extra towels in the cabinet. Leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll toss them in the wash. I think my brother might have left some sweatpants here from his last visit… they might be a little small but they might work until your clothes are dry again… I’ll just leave them outside the bathroom door.” She directed, using her hands and body to point him in the right direction. She’d give him a few minutes to get situated and pop her cupcakes into the oven before she snagged his clothes and dropped them into the wash and found some of Tino’s sweatpants to leave for him like some sort of mystical fairy.
Her phone vibrated softly on the counter and she reached over grasping it long enough to see who the text message was from and flick it back off with an unimpressed roll of her eyes before setting the pan into the oven and setting the timer. It’d been a couple of minutes, she’d bounce upstairs and grab his clothes and throw them into the wash and head to the guest room to snag a pair of sweat pants for him.
“Are you use to people offering things to you that would put them out?” Evie chuckled as she used a butter knife to level the first cup of flour before grabbing the offered sift, dumping the flour into she sift, and sifting it into the bowl. Her earthy, whiskey-colored eyes darting an amused glance in his direction. He’d leaned his hip against her countertop and was toweling his hair dry, so he probably missed the small roll of her eyes before she scooped out the next cup of flour and began to level it too, repeating the process of dumping it into the sift and then sifting it into the bowl again. “Man, here I was just trying to be nice and neighborly and it taken in to be questioned.” The mirth and sarcasm were leaking out of her tone as she continued, shooting another look over at him again.
“I probably should just throw you back outside to fend for yourself in the cold… wet… rain.” She feigned a frown and finished the dry ingredients before she picked the wet ingredients up and dumped the bowl into the second bowl. Hmming softly, “I probably should but…” Evie couldn’t help looking at him again with her teasing, “But there is this feral cat that has been plaguing the neighborhood and I would hate to think that by me throwing you out there, you stumbled upon ole Cuddles out there and you lost your big toe to him.” Gesturing down at his bare feet, she cleared her throat. “Yeah. I can’t in good conscious throw you out there with absolutely no foot protection with Cuddles roaming the streets and I am quite positive I have no shoes that’ll fit those Hobbit feet of yours.”
Turning her attention back to mixing up the frosting batter, she was smugly smiling into the bowl with hardly a thought to him thinking she was possibly flirting with him. Did she seem like the sort of girl who’d leave a man guessing whether or not she was flirting? Hell! She’d answered the door in her pajamas thinking he was a one night stand who’d creepily ended up on her doorstep. What part of that screamed subtle flirter?
‘I hate to disappoint, but I usually run in the gym. Road running plays havoc with your joints you know. And if I did go out here, I bet it would be before your soccer Moms are out of the house.’
Her smile faltered and her head raised as she looked incredulously at her tall, dark, and disheveled neighbor. Was he kidding? He went to a gym to run?! Evie’s eyes blinked a couple of times before she tilted her head a tiny bit and stared at him as if he’d just been beamed into her kitchen by an alien.
“Okay. First of all that is beyond disappointing. Secondly, um… all running plays havoc with your joints, that is why the senior ladies on the street have taken up power walking… And thirdly, do you sleep? I mean you are up earlier than the soccer moms supposedly and out running around outside still dressed for work… mostly… at almost midnight?” Tilting her head at him, she narrowed her gaze but her teasing amusement still evident in her tone. “You’re a vampire aren’t you?! Damnit! I swear if you tell me you sparkle in the daylight… I’m going to have to have to move.”
She snickered and turned back to her baking, placing the cupcake liners into the pan diligently and then spooning out just enough batter for each cupcake. The room had grown quiet and she wondered what was going on through his mind.
‘Do you mind if I take you up on the shower?’ Pausing, she wondered if she’d said something out loud without realizing it. Blinking, and then she smiled. “No of course not.” Setting the spoon into the batter bowl, she fluttered a moment gathering her bearings in her own house. It was a hazard of not being home any more than she was.
“Um… Use the upstairs shower. The one downstairs is broke and I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.” She pointed through the kitchen doorway toward the hallway with an L-Shaped staircase leading the way to the upper rooms. “Go up the stairs and it’s the second door on the right. There are extra towels in the cabinet. Leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll toss them in the wash. I think my brother might have left some sweatpants here from his last visit… they might be a little small but they might work until your clothes are dry again… I’ll just leave them outside the bathroom door.” She directed, using her hands and body to point him in the right direction. She’d give him a few minutes to get situated and pop her cupcakes into the oven before she snagged his clothes and dropped them into the wash and found some of Tino’s sweatpants to leave for him like some sort of mystical fairy.
Her phone vibrated softly on the counter and she reached over grasping it long enough to see who the text message was from and flick it back off with an unimpressed roll of her eyes before setting the pan into the oven and setting the timer. It’d been a couple of minutes, she’d bounce upstairs and grab his clothes and throw them into the wash and head to the guest room to snag a pair of sweat pants for him.
She was teasing him, that quickly became apparent, and Achilleas gave a shrug, trying to move past his discomfort, She was not the one foisting herself on the kindness of a stranger after all.
“Cuddles, eh?” he asked, one dark brow arched sharply and a skeptical expression on his face. It was gentled by the quirk at the edge of his mouth that promised a smile being contained. And Achilleas followed her eyes down toward his bare feet, vowing there and then that he would never step outside his front door without shoes on ever again. Just in case.
“I hardly think you are one to be calling someone else a hobbit” he said, in mock affront. “Aren’t they those short people?” He did tower over her, after all. But he cleared his throat and went on. “Seriously though, Evie. Thank you. I really appreciate it.” The blue of his gaze held hers for a moment, before dipping away again toward the rain that was throwing itself against the window pain with more vigour now. “It would have been pretty horrible waiting outside.”
He blinked those same blue eyes at her as she outlined her discontent with his answer about his exercise habits, leaning one hand against the work surface now, clutching on to the damp towel that had done little but cause the dark curls of his hair to fluff up in a most disorderly fashion. It was a sharp contrast to the formal attire he wore, even though that was looking a little worse for wear too by this point. Something shifted in his expression towards the end of her playful rant though, as if she had struck a nerve, and the quiet “I told you, I work long hours” was threaded with almost a hint of defensiveness.
It was yet another reason Achilleas thought escaping to avail himself of the offered shower would be a good idea, and he glanced in the direction she indicated, giving a nod.
“Oh, you don't have to do..” he began at her offer to sling his clothes in the wash, before recalling her earlier words and shutting up, dropping in a small ‘thanks’ instead. It would be pretty unpleasant putting on damp clothes again after a shower anyway, Achilleas conceded as he followed her direction upstairs and into the bathroom. He found towels where she’d said, and then feeling more than a little self conscious about stripping off in this stranger's house, he made short work of it, crumpling his shirt and pants into a ball and leaving them outside the door, keeping his boxers absolutely to himself. There were limits to this forced familiarity after all.
The shower was good, and he turned it up hot, not realising quite how the damp chill had seeped into his bones. Standing under the stream of water, he tipped his face up toward it, trying not to think about the work he wasn’t getting done, the fact that Paul wasn’t going to have those numbers he needed in the morning. He should just be grateful this had not worked out worse than it had and that he wasn’t sitting on his goddamn porch getting hypothermia. Of course, it might have been nicer if he hadn’t locked himself out in the first fucking place either.
Achilleas glanced at the shower gel that was available, flipped the lid and sniffed it before he used any, and he was glad he had because it smelled like a sweet shop and definitely not a masculine appropriate fragrance. He made do with just the water instead, though when he stepped out and sling a towel around his hips, that smelt floral too and he wondered if he wasn’t just destined to smell like a girl anyway.
He’d pulled his boxers back on, flung the towel over his shoulder and opened the door in a cloud of steam to retrieve the promised sweatpants, only to pull up short with a surprised ‘Oh’ as he came face to face with his host, obviously ...doing whatever she was doing and not lurking outside the bathroom door like a creeper. Achilleas was exceedingly glad that at least his underwear was not novelty and was a fairly nondescript black as he stood before his neighbour in nothing else. He supposed it evened the score a little, given she was wearing pyjamas and had been for the entirety of their short acquaintance. “Did you say something about sweatpants?” he offered after a moment, looking expectantly at Evie.
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She was teasing him, that quickly became apparent, and Achilleas gave a shrug, trying to move past his discomfort, She was not the one foisting herself on the kindness of a stranger after all.
“Cuddles, eh?” he asked, one dark brow arched sharply and a skeptical expression on his face. It was gentled by the quirk at the edge of his mouth that promised a smile being contained. And Achilleas followed her eyes down toward his bare feet, vowing there and then that he would never step outside his front door without shoes on ever again. Just in case.
“I hardly think you are one to be calling someone else a hobbit” he said, in mock affront. “Aren’t they those short people?” He did tower over her, after all. But he cleared his throat and went on. “Seriously though, Evie. Thank you. I really appreciate it.” The blue of his gaze held hers for a moment, before dipping away again toward the rain that was throwing itself against the window pain with more vigour now. “It would have been pretty horrible waiting outside.”
He blinked those same blue eyes at her as she outlined her discontent with his answer about his exercise habits, leaning one hand against the work surface now, clutching on to the damp towel that had done little but cause the dark curls of his hair to fluff up in a most disorderly fashion. It was a sharp contrast to the formal attire he wore, even though that was looking a little worse for wear too by this point. Something shifted in his expression towards the end of her playful rant though, as if she had struck a nerve, and the quiet “I told you, I work long hours” was threaded with almost a hint of defensiveness.
It was yet another reason Achilleas thought escaping to avail himself of the offered shower would be a good idea, and he glanced in the direction she indicated, giving a nod.
“Oh, you don't have to do..” he began at her offer to sling his clothes in the wash, before recalling her earlier words and shutting up, dropping in a small ‘thanks’ instead. It would be pretty unpleasant putting on damp clothes again after a shower anyway, Achilleas conceded as he followed her direction upstairs and into the bathroom. He found towels where she’d said, and then feeling more than a little self conscious about stripping off in this stranger's house, he made short work of it, crumpling his shirt and pants into a ball and leaving them outside the door, keeping his boxers absolutely to himself. There were limits to this forced familiarity after all.
The shower was good, and he turned it up hot, not realising quite how the damp chill had seeped into his bones. Standing under the stream of water, he tipped his face up toward it, trying not to think about the work he wasn’t getting done, the fact that Paul wasn’t going to have those numbers he needed in the morning. He should just be grateful this had not worked out worse than it had and that he wasn’t sitting on his goddamn porch getting hypothermia. Of course, it might have been nicer if he hadn’t locked himself out in the first fucking place either.
Achilleas glanced at the shower gel that was available, flipped the lid and sniffed it before he used any, and he was glad he had because it smelled like a sweet shop and definitely not a masculine appropriate fragrance. He made do with just the water instead, though when he stepped out and sling a towel around his hips, that smelt floral too and he wondered if he wasn’t just destined to smell like a girl anyway.
He’d pulled his boxers back on, flung the towel over his shoulder and opened the door in a cloud of steam to retrieve the promised sweatpants, only to pull up short with a surprised ‘Oh’ as he came face to face with his host, obviously ...doing whatever she was doing and not lurking outside the bathroom door like a creeper. Achilleas was exceedingly glad that at least his underwear was not novelty and was a fairly nondescript black as he stood before his neighbour in nothing else. He supposed it evened the score a little, given she was wearing pyjamas and had been for the entirety of their short acquaintance. “Did you say something about sweatpants?” he offered after a moment, looking expectantly at Evie.
She was teasing him, that quickly became apparent, and Achilleas gave a shrug, trying to move past his discomfort, She was not the one foisting herself on the kindness of a stranger after all.
“Cuddles, eh?” he asked, one dark brow arched sharply and a skeptical expression on his face. It was gentled by the quirk at the edge of his mouth that promised a smile being contained. And Achilleas followed her eyes down toward his bare feet, vowing there and then that he would never step outside his front door without shoes on ever again. Just in case.
“I hardly think you are one to be calling someone else a hobbit” he said, in mock affront. “Aren’t they those short people?” He did tower over her, after all. But he cleared his throat and went on. “Seriously though, Evie. Thank you. I really appreciate it.” The blue of his gaze held hers for a moment, before dipping away again toward the rain that was throwing itself against the window pain with more vigour now. “It would have been pretty horrible waiting outside.”
He blinked those same blue eyes at her as she outlined her discontent with his answer about his exercise habits, leaning one hand against the work surface now, clutching on to the damp towel that had done little but cause the dark curls of his hair to fluff up in a most disorderly fashion. It was a sharp contrast to the formal attire he wore, even though that was looking a little worse for wear too by this point. Something shifted in his expression towards the end of her playful rant though, as if she had struck a nerve, and the quiet “I told you, I work long hours” was threaded with almost a hint of defensiveness.
It was yet another reason Achilleas thought escaping to avail himself of the offered shower would be a good idea, and he glanced in the direction she indicated, giving a nod.
“Oh, you don't have to do..” he began at her offer to sling his clothes in the wash, before recalling her earlier words and shutting up, dropping in a small ‘thanks’ instead. It would be pretty unpleasant putting on damp clothes again after a shower anyway, Achilleas conceded as he followed her direction upstairs and into the bathroom. He found towels where she’d said, and then feeling more than a little self conscious about stripping off in this stranger's house, he made short work of it, crumpling his shirt and pants into a ball and leaving them outside the door, keeping his boxers absolutely to himself. There were limits to this forced familiarity after all.
The shower was good, and he turned it up hot, not realising quite how the damp chill had seeped into his bones. Standing under the stream of water, he tipped his face up toward it, trying not to think about the work he wasn’t getting done, the fact that Paul wasn’t going to have those numbers he needed in the morning. He should just be grateful this had not worked out worse than it had and that he wasn’t sitting on his goddamn porch getting hypothermia. Of course, it might have been nicer if he hadn’t locked himself out in the first fucking place either.
Achilleas glanced at the shower gel that was available, flipped the lid and sniffed it before he used any, and he was glad he had because it smelled like a sweet shop and definitely not a masculine appropriate fragrance. He made do with just the water instead, though when he stepped out and sling a towel around his hips, that smelt floral too and he wondered if he wasn’t just destined to smell like a girl anyway.
He’d pulled his boxers back on, flung the towel over his shoulder and opened the door in a cloud of steam to retrieve the promised sweatpants, only to pull up short with a surprised ‘Oh’ as he came face to face with his host, obviously ...doing whatever she was doing and not lurking outside the bathroom door like a creeper. Achilleas was exceedingly glad that at least his underwear was not novelty and was a fairly nondescript black as he stood before his neighbour in nothing else. He supposed it evened the score a little, given she was wearing pyjamas and had been for the entirety of their short acquaintance. “Did you say something about sweatpants?” he offered after a moment, looking expectantly at Evie.
Dipping her head, Evangelina slid a slow look up at him with her big brown eyes as a smile formed on her lips as he repeated the name of the neighborhood cat. Okay, so maybe not everyone on the street called him Cuddles, but Evangelina was almost positively sure that Cuddles just needed some cuddles in order to be a sweet cat. Her upper lip twitched revealing a flash of white teeth as she shrugged nonchalantly. Evie teasingly murmured her reply, “He didn’t choose the name, the name chose him.”
‘I hardly think you are one to be calling someone else a hobbit. Aren’t they those short people?’ He mockingly tossed it back at her. Good. It was a good sign that he could give as good as he got with her. People occasionally made her feel like she was too much and it’d have been a lie if she’d said that didn’t eat away at her just a little. She lived by the saying that if you were going to be a bear you might as well be a grizzly. She didn’t do everything well but the things she did do, she made an effort to go above and beyond.
“You didn’t just go there, did you… you didn’t just compare me to a hobbit because I am short,” Laughter bubbled out of her and a wavy strand of chestnut hair fell forward as her body shook softly from the laughter. Reaching up she tucked it back behind her ear, smudging a streak of cupcake frosting across her cheek in the process. “And they are short people, but they have very large hairy feet in comparison to their bodies. I can see we are going to have to have a Lord of the Rings night to educate you on hobbits.”
He cleared his throat after a moment and added, ‘Seriously though, Evie. Thank you. I really appreciate it. It would have been pretty horrible waiting outside.’ Something about his tone caused her to slow down with the cupcakes, grinding slowly to a halt. Evie shifted her body so that she was leaning her hip against the island and watching him softly before she sighed softly, “You are welcome. That is what neighbors are for though.” The truth was Evangelina tried to treat people the way she hoped someone would treat her. This world was hard enough without making it harder for someone.
As the conversation had drifted back to teasing about his workout habits, her eyes widened though as he took a different tone with her. A sensitive spot.‘I told you, I work long hours.’ She paused again and leveled a look a librarian would be proud of to him. “Actually, I am pretty sure you didn’t tell me you worked long hours but even if you had of… You aren’t the only one who does, so there is no need to snap my head off,” The pint-sized hellcat hissed back at him.
It was probably a good thing he’d asked about the shower, she could have used a small reprieve from him as well. Once he’d asked she didn’t give him the chance to interrupt her. It was a mistake she was careful not to let people get away with. Maybe she was short. And Maybe she fluttered about like some sort of butterfly, but she wasn’t someone people could walk over or treat as a second thought. She’d spent too much of her life being that person, and she wasn’t going to be that person anymore.
Watching him walk away, she felt her body relax a little as she slumped against the island for a long moment before she finished the cupcakes and placed them in the oven, setting the timer. Upstairs she heard the shower turn on and softly bustled about the kitchen in the quiet of the early, early morning. Rinsing out her bowls, spatulas, and various other things before she set them into the dishwasher and started putting things back into their spots and washing the island off. She’d put off going upstairs as long as she could.
Trotting up the stairs she snatched up his clothes from just outside the bathroom door and trotted back downstairs with them to the laundry room where she threw them into the wash and added her soap before she trotted back up the stairs. Slightly winded with the up and down and up again… maybe she should be the one who took up running in the mornings.
Inside the guestroom, she opened the cedar trunk at the end of the bed and sorted through the various blankets to the bottom where she’d stashed away the extra clothes she’d found after her brother had left and grabbed a pair of maroon-colored sweatpants with the word Harvard wrote down one of the legs. They’d have to do, they were the only ones that looked like they might fit her overgrown guest. Closing the trunk with a thud, she quickly glanced about the room, everything looked to be in order, then headed back to the door of the bathroom as she distractedly folded the sweat pants.
Bending down, she paused. No water. The water was off. The door opened and put her right at his boxer level of her guest. One of them gasped, and she jerked herself back to her feet.
“CLOTHES! PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON,” She shrieked in a startled yell. Completely forgetting she still had the sweatpants in her hand she started powerwalking awkwardly away from him. Her gaze firmly on the floor. Oh, sweet gods above! She’d not been prepared to see that much of him. But it was such a delicious body, that little vixen in her voiced silently in her mind, just think of all the things you could do with a body like that. Rawwwr! Then that logical voice gave a soft gasp, No! He’s your neighbor! You’re a good girl… mostly. Don’t ‘Rawwwr!’ at his body… Bad Evie…. Bad Evie.
‘Did you say something about sweatpants?’ She stopped midstep at the staircase and turned around, refusing to meet his gaze. Sweatpants? Why did she need sweatpants on? She didn’t need sweatpants for what she was thinking. It was that exact moment she remembered she had the sweatpants she’d promised him in her hand. Her mouth fell open and she blinked at him before tossing the sweatpants hard at his chest.
“This isn’t Naked Saturday. Put those on.” Turning on her heel she scurried back down the stairs with the excuse, “I think my cupcakes are burning!”
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Dipping her head, Evangelina slid a slow look up at him with her big brown eyes as a smile formed on her lips as he repeated the name of the neighborhood cat. Okay, so maybe not everyone on the street called him Cuddles, but Evangelina was almost positively sure that Cuddles just needed some cuddles in order to be a sweet cat. Her upper lip twitched revealing a flash of white teeth as she shrugged nonchalantly. Evie teasingly murmured her reply, “He didn’t choose the name, the name chose him.”
‘I hardly think you are one to be calling someone else a hobbit. Aren’t they those short people?’ He mockingly tossed it back at her. Good. It was a good sign that he could give as good as he got with her. People occasionally made her feel like she was too much and it’d have been a lie if she’d said that didn’t eat away at her just a little. She lived by the saying that if you were going to be a bear you might as well be a grizzly. She didn’t do everything well but the things she did do, she made an effort to go above and beyond.
“You didn’t just go there, did you… you didn’t just compare me to a hobbit because I am short,” Laughter bubbled out of her and a wavy strand of chestnut hair fell forward as her body shook softly from the laughter. Reaching up she tucked it back behind her ear, smudging a streak of cupcake frosting across her cheek in the process. “And they are short people, but they have very large hairy feet in comparison to their bodies. I can see we are going to have to have a Lord of the Rings night to educate you on hobbits.”
He cleared his throat after a moment and added, ‘Seriously though, Evie. Thank you. I really appreciate it. It would have been pretty horrible waiting outside.’ Something about his tone caused her to slow down with the cupcakes, grinding slowly to a halt. Evie shifted her body so that she was leaning her hip against the island and watching him softly before she sighed softly, “You are welcome. That is what neighbors are for though.” The truth was Evangelina tried to treat people the way she hoped someone would treat her. This world was hard enough without making it harder for someone.
As the conversation had drifted back to teasing about his workout habits, her eyes widened though as he took a different tone with her. A sensitive spot.‘I told you, I work long hours.’ She paused again and leveled a look a librarian would be proud of to him. “Actually, I am pretty sure you didn’t tell me you worked long hours but even if you had of… You aren’t the only one who does, so there is no need to snap my head off,” The pint-sized hellcat hissed back at him.
It was probably a good thing he’d asked about the shower, she could have used a small reprieve from him as well. Once he’d asked she didn’t give him the chance to interrupt her. It was a mistake she was careful not to let people get away with. Maybe she was short. And Maybe she fluttered about like some sort of butterfly, but she wasn’t someone people could walk over or treat as a second thought. She’d spent too much of her life being that person, and she wasn’t going to be that person anymore.
Watching him walk away, she felt her body relax a little as she slumped against the island for a long moment before she finished the cupcakes and placed them in the oven, setting the timer. Upstairs she heard the shower turn on and softly bustled about the kitchen in the quiet of the early, early morning. Rinsing out her bowls, spatulas, and various other things before she set them into the dishwasher and started putting things back into their spots and washing the island off. She’d put off going upstairs as long as she could.
Trotting up the stairs she snatched up his clothes from just outside the bathroom door and trotted back downstairs with them to the laundry room where she threw them into the wash and added her soap before she trotted back up the stairs. Slightly winded with the up and down and up again… maybe she should be the one who took up running in the mornings.
Inside the guestroom, she opened the cedar trunk at the end of the bed and sorted through the various blankets to the bottom where she’d stashed away the extra clothes she’d found after her brother had left and grabbed a pair of maroon-colored sweatpants with the word Harvard wrote down one of the legs. They’d have to do, they were the only ones that looked like they might fit her overgrown guest. Closing the trunk with a thud, she quickly glanced about the room, everything looked to be in order, then headed back to the door of the bathroom as she distractedly folded the sweat pants.
Bending down, she paused. No water. The water was off. The door opened and put her right at his boxer level of her guest. One of them gasped, and she jerked herself back to her feet.
“CLOTHES! PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON,” She shrieked in a startled yell. Completely forgetting she still had the sweatpants in her hand she started powerwalking awkwardly away from him. Her gaze firmly on the floor. Oh, sweet gods above! She’d not been prepared to see that much of him. But it was such a delicious body, that little vixen in her voiced silently in her mind, just think of all the things you could do with a body like that. Rawwwr! Then that logical voice gave a soft gasp, No! He’s your neighbor! You’re a good girl… mostly. Don’t ‘Rawwwr!’ at his body… Bad Evie…. Bad Evie.
‘Did you say something about sweatpants?’ She stopped midstep at the staircase and turned around, refusing to meet his gaze. Sweatpants? Why did she need sweatpants on? She didn’t need sweatpants for what she was thinking. It was that exact moment she remembered she had the sweatpants she’d promised him in her hand. Her mouth fell open and she blinked at him before tossing the sweatpants hard at his chest.
“This isn’t Naked Saturday. Put those on.” Turning on her heel she scurried back down the stairs with the excuse, “I think my cupcakes are burning!”
Dipping her head, Evangelina slid a slow look up at him with her big brown eyes as a smile formed on her lips as he repeated the name of the neighborhood cat. Okay, so maybe not everyone on the street called him Cuddles, but Evangelina was almost positively sure that Cuddles just needed some cuddles in order to be a sweet cat. Her upper lip twitched revealing a flash of white teeth as she shrugged nonchalantly. Evie teasingly murmured her reply, “He didn’t choose the name, the name chose him.”
‘I hardly think you are one to be calling someone else a hobbit. Aren’t they those short people?’ He mockingly tossed it back at her. Good. It was a good sign that he could give as good as he got with her. People occasionally made her feel like she was too much and it’d have been a lie if she’d said that didn’t eat away at her just a little. She lived by the saying that if you were going to be a bear you might as well be a grizzly. She didn’t do everything well but the things she did do, she made an effort to go above and beyond.
“You didn’t just go there, did you… you didn’t just compare me to a hobbit because I am short,” Laughter bubbled out of her and a wavy strand of chestnut hair fell forward as her body shook softly from the laughter. Reaching up she tucked it back behind her ear, smudging a streak of cupcake frosting across her cheek in the process. “And they are short people, but they have very large hairy feet in comparison to their bodies. I can see we are going to have to have a Lord of the Rings night to educate you on hobbits.”
He cleared his throat after a moment and added, ‘Seriously though, Evie. Thank you. I really appreciate it. It would have been pretty horrible waiting outside.’ Something about his tone caused her to slow down with the cupcakes, grinding slowly to a halt. Evie shifted her body so that she was leaning her hip against the island and watching him softly before she sighed softly, “You are welcome. That is what neighbors are for though.” The truth was Evangelina tried to treat people the way she hoped someone would treat her. This world was hard enough without making it harder for someone.
As the conversation had drifted back to teasing about his workout habits, her eyes widened though as he took a different tone with her. A sensitive spot.‘I told you, I work long hours.’ She paused again and leveled a look a librarian would be proud of to him. “Actually, I am pretty sure you didn’t tell me you worked long hours but even if you had of… You aren’t the only one who does, so there is no need to snap my head off,” The pint-sized hellcat hissed back at him.
It was probably a good thing he’d asked about the shower, she could have used a small reprieve from him as well. Once he’d asked she didn’t give him the chance to interrupt her. It was a mistake she was careful not to let people get away with. Maybe she was short. And Maybe she fluttered about like some sort of butterfly, but she wasn’t someone people could walk over or treat as a second thought. She’d spent too much of her life being that person, and she wasn’t going to be that person anymore.
Watching him walk away, she felt her body relax a little as she slumped against the island for a long moment before she finished the cupcakes and placed them in the oven, setting the timer. Upstairs she heard the shower turn on and softly bustled about the kitchen in the quiet of the early, early morning. Rinsing out her bowls, spatulas, and various other things before she set them into the dishwasher and started putting things back into their spots and washing the island off. She’d put off going upstairs as long as she could.
Trotting up the stairs she snatched up his clothes from just outside the bathroom door and trotted back downstairs with them to the laundry room where she threw them into the wash and added her soap before she trotted back up the stairs. Slightly winded with the up and down and up again… maybe she should be the one who took up running in the mornings.
Inside the guestroom, she opened the cedar trunk at the end of the bed and sorted through the various blankets to the bottom where she’d stashed away the extra clothes she’d found after her brother had left and grabbed a pair of maroon-colored sweatpants with the word Harvard wrote down one of the legs. They’d have to do, they were the only ones that looked like they might fit her overgrown guest. Closing the trunk with a thud, she quickly glanced about the room, everything looked to be in order, then headed back to the door of the bathroom as she distractedly folded the sweat pants.
Bending down, she paused. No water. The water was off. The door opened and put her right at his boxer level of her guest. One of them gasped, and she jerked herself back to her feet.
“CLOTHES! PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON,” She shrieked in a startled yell. Completely forgetting she still had the sweatpants in her hand she started powerwalking awkwardly away from him. Her gaze firmly on the floor. Oh, sweet gods above! She’d not been prepared to see that much of him. But it was such a delicious body, that little vixen in her voiced silently in her mind, just think of all the things you could do with a body like that. Rawwwr! Then that logical voice gave a soft gasp, No! He’s your neighbor! You’re a good girl… mostly. Don’t ‘Rawwwr!’ at his body… Bad Evie…. Bad Evie.
‘Did you say something about sweatpants?’ She stopped midstep at the staircase and turned around, refusing to meet his gaze. Sweatpants? Why did she need sweatpants on? She didn’t need sweatpants for what she was thinking. It was that exact moment she remembered she had the sweatpants she’d promised him in her hand. Her mouth fell open and she blinked at him before tossing the sweatpants hard at his chest.
“This isn’t Naked Saturday. Put those on.” Turning on her heel she scurried back down the stairs with the excuse, “I think my cupcakes are burning!”
He didn’t know why he’d reacted to a throwaway comment about his lifestyle from a girl who clearly wasn’t one to making any judgements, but Achiileas was annoyed at himself. He mulled it over as he showered, chalking it up to a long day and refusing to acknowledge that perhaps it was more the echo of previous criticism that made it sting.
He knew plenty of people that worked more than he did. He should compile a list one of these days and then just have it on hand for when people questioned him. They were successful people too. It made him laugh that Laura had complained about it, but then had been all too happy to book the vacations she wanted, the skiing, the trips to Europe. But it made him sound bitter, and so he pushed the thoughts away. Maybe he would just explain that it was a sore subject to Pyjama girl and she wouldnt think he was just some bad tempered white-collar worker who couldnt take a joke.
Pulling open the door, he was not expecting to find her right there. Or, right there, and Achilleas took a half a step back, pulling the towel from over his shoulder and bundling it front of him so it was some kind of barrier as Evie stood upright in a flash. Oh. Well that was sort of amu…
“CLOTHES! PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON!”
His host was less amused, it would appear, and Achilleas could only stare after her as she started storming away. “...you took my clothes” he managed after a moment, remembering to ask after those sweatpants when she was half way down the hallway. The balled up fabric came flying at him with some force put behind it and Achilleas caught them with a bemused expression upon his face. “Okay!” He paused and wondered for a moment at the naked Saturdays comment but looking at her flustered and slightly stroppy self stomping down the stairs mumbling about cupcakes he decided not to ask.
When he joined her a minute or so later, he was at least half-clad, the sweatpants a little short in the leg perhaps but serviceable non the less. Achilleas stepped into the kitchen and shot her a wary glance, folding his arms across his chest because he was still without a shirt and who knew how offended she was going to be about that.
“...did you catch them?” he queried tentatively of the cupcakes, which now he was in the vicinity of them smelled amazing and made his hollow feeling stomach grumble. He tried to ignore it. “Do you ususually bake at midnight?”
She kept slightly strange hours herself, he decided, eyeing the coffee machine that surely had finished by now and thinking how most people avoided caffeine after four ish. Unless she drank decaf. He hoped not. “Can I..help or anything? Want me to pour coffee?” There was a strange sort of false familiarity that resulted in standing in someone’s kitchen half-dressed and Achilleas tried to navigate it as best as he could.
He drifted toward the antique contraption as he spoke, eyeing it doubtfully and wondering how it still functioned. “Cups?” he asked over his shoulder, looking towards the logical places for such things to be kept. He stopped short of actually opening any of the cupboards though, because that would be rude.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He didn’t know why he’d reacted to a throwaway comment about his lifestyle from a girl who clearly wasn’t one to making any judgements, but Achiileas was annoyed at himself. He mulled it over as he showered, chalking it up to a long day and refusing to acknowledge that perhaps it was more the echo of previous criticism that made it sting.
He knew plenty of people that worked more than he did. He should compile a list one of these days and then just have it on hand for when people questioned him. They were successful people too. It made him laugh that Laura had complained about it, but then had been all too happy to book the vacations she wanted, the skiing, the trips to Europe. But it made him sound bitter, and so he pushed the thoughts away. Maybe he would just explain that it was a sore subject to Pyjama girl and she wouldnt think he was just some bad tempered white-collar worker who couldnt take a joke.
Pulling open the door, he was not expecting to find her right there. Or, right there, and Achilleas took a half a step back, pulling the towel from over his shoulder and bundling it front of him so it was some kind of barrier as Evie stood upright in a flash. Oh. Well that was sort of amu…
“CLOTHES! PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON!”
His host was less amused, it would appear, and Achilleas could only stare after her as she started storming away. “...you took my clothes” he managed after a moment, remembering to ask after those sweatpants when she was half way down the hallway. The balled up fabric came flying at him with some force put behind it and Achilleas caught them with a bemused expression upon his face. “Okay!” He paused and wondered for a moment at the naked Saturdays comment but looking at her flustered and slightly stroppy self stomping down the stairs mumbling about cupcakes he decided not to ask.
When he joined her a minute or so later, he was at least half-clad, the sweatpants a little short in the leg perhaps but serviceable non the less. Achilleas stepped into the kitchen and shot her a wary glance, folding his arms across his chest because he was still without a shirt and who knew how offended she was going to be about that.
“...did you catch them?” he queried tentatively of the cupcakes, which now he was in the vicinity of them smelled amazing and made his hollow feeling stomach grumble. He tried to ignore it. “Do you ususually bake at midnight?”
She kept slightly strange hours herself, he decided, eyeing the coffee machine that surely had finished by now and thinking how most people avoided caffeine after four ish. Unless she drank decaf. He hoped not. “Can I..help or anything? Want me to pour coffee?” There was a strange sort of false familiarity that resulted in standing in someone’s kitchen half-dressed and Achilleas tried to navigate it as best as he could.
He drifted toward the antique contraption as he spoke, eyeing it doubtfully and wondering how it still functioned. “Cups?” he asked over his shoulder, looking towards the logical places for such things to be kept. He stopped short of actually opening any of the cupboards though, because that would be rude.
He didn’t know why he’d reacted to a throwaway comment about his lifestyle from a girl who clearly wasn’t one to making any judgements, but Achiileas was annoyed at himself. He mulled it over as he showered, chalking it up to a long day and refusing to acknowledge that perhaps it was more the echo of previous criticism that made it sting.
He knew plenty of people that worked more than he did. He should compile a list one of these days and then just have it on hand for when people questioned him. They were successful people too. It made him laugh that Laura had complained about it, but then had been all too happy to book the vacations she wanted, the skiing, the trips to Europe. But it made him sound bitter, and so he pushed the thoughts away. Maybe he would just explain that it was a sore subject to Pyjama girl and she wouldnt think he was just some bad tempered white-collar worker who couldnt take a joke.
Pulling open the door, he was not expecting to find her right there. Or, right there, and Achilleas took a half a step back, pulling the towel from over his shoulder and bundling it front of him so it was some kind of barrier as Evie stood upright in a flash. Oh. Well that was sort of amu…
“CLOTHES! PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON!”
His host was less amused, it would appear, and Achilleas could only stare after her as she started storming away. “...you took my clothes” he managed after a moment, remembering to ask after those sweatpants when she was half way down the hallway. The balled up fabric came flying at him with some force put behind it and Achilleas caught them with a bemused expression upon his face. “Okay!” He paused and wondered for a moment at the naked Saturdays comment but looking at her flustered and slightly stroppy self stomping down the stairs mumbling about cupcakes he decided not to ask.
When he joined her a minute or so later, he was at least half-clad, the sweatpants a little short in the leg perhaps but serviceable non the less. Achilleas stepped into the kitchen and shot her a wary glance, folding his arms across his chest because he was still without a shirt and who knew how offended she was going to be about that.
“...did you catch them?” he queried tentatively of the cupcakes, which now he was in the vicinity of them smelled amazing and made his hollow feeling stomach grumble. He tried to ignore it. “Do you ususually bake at midnight?”
She kept slightly strange hours herself, he decided, eyeing the coffee machine that surely had finished by now and thinking how most people avoided caffeine after four ish. Unless she drank decaf. He hoped not. “Can I..help or anything? Want me to pour coffee?” There was a strange sort of false familiarity that resulted in standing in someone’s kitchen half-dressed and Achilleas tried to navigate it as best as he could.
He drifted toward the antique contraption as he spoke, eyeing it doubtfully and wondering how it still functioned. “Cups?” he asked over his shoulder, looking towards the logical places for such things to be kept. He stopped short of actually opening any of the cupboards though, because that would be rude.
