“It’s… cute.” he says, letting Calida go. (Wait! Where the fuck did she go?!)
I turn back to see him still standing just inside the door, studying the stacks of books that make up the bulkof the decor, my arms full of discarded papers. I’m not usually this much of a slob, but I’ve been trying to churn out this book in every moment of downtime I have, so it’s gotten a little out of hand.
OK, that’s a lie. I have a lot of things to do and paralysis on where to start, so I sometimes just… don’t. Until the piles get to me, that is. Suddenly, the clutter and mess will start to make my anxiety worse, so I’ll stress clean. Usually not until someone comes over though.
Do other people do that? Stress clean when someone is set to come over? Heaven forbid the place look like someone actually lives here. That would be a travesty. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize tall, dark and thoughtful was going to be barging into my life today or I might have tidied up this morning.
I stuff the papers in my arms into a random box (oh gee, from a book delivery) and stuff it in the bottom of the coat closet. Turning back to the main room, I try to see things from Flint’s perspective.
It’s a studio apartment, with a small bathroom almost the same size as the coat closet, but at least it has a tub. My bed is stuffed into one corner, separated from the living area with a screen that a local artist painted with fairies and dragons for me, that I never really bother with. My small writing desk sits close by, with my heavily stickered laptop sleeping on its surface. A surprisingly comfortable couch, donated by Bits the last time she remodeled, is shoved against the far wall, with a small TV on a tiny table that I painted tomato red.
I sigh. Well, it is what it is.
I open the fridge in the small kitchenette and take in what I have stocked. Not much of anything, which I had pretty much figured. Great.
Turning back to Flint, who is still studying my book stacks, I pull my phone out of my back pocket. “Pickings are pretty slim here. How does pizza sound?”
He finally pulls his eyes away from the stacks and focuses on me. “Pizza?”
“Ah — it’s a cooked dough, with tomato sauce, cheese. You can add various veggies and meats on top?”
‘MEATS?’
I’m never going to get used to that. Whirling around, I spot Calida curled up on the top of the couch, watching the two of us.
“Yeah, meats. We can add meats.”
Calida purrs.
Ok, then. “One large meat and what is your poison, Flint?”
“I’ll eat anything.”
Not going to examine that too closely.
“Right.” I place the order, adding some bread sticks, cheesy bread and a bottle of wine to the pizzas. Pausing, I add a second bottle. I might need a few glasses to get through the rest of the afternoon and evening. “It’ll be here in about half an hour.”
“From where?” Flint moves to sit on the couch, rubbing a hand over Calida’s head as he sits. She continues to purr, apparently very happy about the idea of a meat pizza.
“There’s a local shop just a couple blocks away and I often order from them. Either when I’ve been busy writing and working and haven’t made it to the store, or when I’ve hyper-focused on something and forgotten to feed myself until I’m famished.” I let a self-deprecating laugh.
“You don’t feed yourself?” Flint looks appalled. “How,exactly, does one forget to eat? It is literally a matter of listening to your body.”
I shrug. “I guess my body doesn’t talk loudly enough sometimes. My brain gets focused on what I’m doing and everything else just sort’ve... gets blocked out. Anyway, the pizza delivery should be here soon. Do you want anything to drink? Until they get here, all I have is water.”
“I’m fine. You’ve had quite a day. Why don’t you sit down and relax for a few minutes before dinner arrives?”
I hesitantly cross to the couch and sit down on the opposite end. Calida takes the opportunity to sort of slither down and curl up on my lap.
She seems sweet but this is super awkward.
A few tense seconds pass. I don’t do awkward silence well. At all.
We both start speaking at the same time.
“I know today has been a lot…”
“Why don’t we find…”
