as kindred should

fifteen

The clock on his phone read 5:02, and Dorian damned himself to hell for it. He sprung from his car and wobbled on the concrete, long legs not made for such a quick exit. The door slammed behind him.

He fiddled with the lock to his front door for a full minute before realizing it was not, in fact, locked. It creaked open and clicked shut, and he was greeted by a soaring soundtrack and the buzz of an old TV.

"Right, so, this is the part where he starts learnin' how to combine his human half with the fact that he was raised by gorillas, okay? So he makes a spear and stuff, and you'd think at some point in there that he might have stitched a wee outfit, but I suppose a loincloth is about all you can make out of tree bark and squirrel hide."

"What on earth are you teaching her?" Dorian asked as he rounded the corner. He shrugged his Elite-branded jacket off and tossed it onto the floor, taking delight in this small act of rebellion. "Who's wearin' a loincloth?"

"Tarzan," Clara stated. She rested her head on the back of the couch and grinned upside-down at him. Dorian arched a brow.

"Tarzan," he repeated. "Which one's that?"

"You heard the bit about the loincloth but missed the part about gorillas?"

"C. I meant which Tarzan. I've read the books, I'm aware it exists. Come on. Give me some credit."

Dorian sat next to her on the couch, and she passed an enraptured Pip to him. The flash and flicker of the screen held her attention in a vise grip. Had she ever seen a film before?

"The animated one," Clara said, gesturing at the screen. "We're about halfway through, I think. I dunno. It's been a few years since I've seen it."

"And it was never your favorite," Dorian stated, smoothing his hand over Pip's fuzzy head. She peeped and leaned into his chest, two fingers curled into her cheek. He wiped a bit of drool from her mouth.

"Oh?"

"You and Mira liked Hercules, you know, the one with the big red head and the pegasus. You used to watch it over and over and over again, I think I could repeat it word for word by now, and you were able to at one point," he said. Clara grinned.

"I think I remember a little bit. Why'd we watch it so much?"

"I dunno. Mira was obsessed with Hercules or the girl, um, Meg? Meg, I think. It depended on the day. Dustin was so small, he loved the pegasus," Dorian continued, eyes fixed to the screen. Tarzan swung from vine to vine, avoiding rope burn the whole way. The magic of film.

"Did I like anyone?"

Dorian turned his head and grinned at Clara, whose expression of curiosity rapidly shifted into befuddlement.

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Oh, you had a favorite character, alright."

"Who was it? Spit it out, come on!"

"The satyr."

"The satyr- Phil? I liked Phil?"

Dorian snickered. "You used to do his voice."

"I used to do Danny Devito impressions and you're only telling me this now?"

"Dunno about Danny Devito impressions, but you used to do Phil ones, for sure. I dunno why you liked him so much. I reckon you thought he was just funny. You'd do impressions all day, put empty toilet paper rolls on your head as horns and a pillow under your shirt. Or you'd run around without a shirt after you'd drawn his chest hair on and taped a piece of construction paper to your face," he said. Clara's face reddened with every word.