South London Forever // George Karim

-strawberry's and stress cleaning-

"We've got an appointment in the afternoon," Lockwood said, rubbing his face. They were in the kitchen, but the early morning sunlight didn't stream in. No one opened the curtains Freddie vaguely remembered being called floral. "The caretakers of the park on 31st said there's something throwing the bins around at night."

Freddie nodded, buttering a slice of toast with a spoon. The toast sat on the bench. She couldn't be bothered to find a clean plate, if there was any to begin with. Her bones ached with a heaviness that was all in her head. She bit into breakfast and moved to stand in front of Lockwood.

She reached out and traced his eyes, feeling the puffiness underneath them. "You didn't sleep, did you?"

Freddie tried not to worry, she really did, but it was hard. They were a mess, both of them, and not in a 'clothes on the bathroom floor and unanswered calls on the telephone' way, it was a 'we're living on stale bread and teabags, the bills haven't been paid for months, and if I was alone, I would go to bed and not get back out until it becomes a Source' kind of way.

No amount of biscuits and dancing can fix things like that. Lockwood muttered something into his cup of tea, and then sighed. "We have bigger problems; the bills are due and must I remind you of the bags under your eyes as well?"

"Well mine are hotter than yours," Freddie yawned, and sat up on the bench, even though it felt greasy under her fingertips. Then a thought occurred to her when something crashed upstairs. Hopefully not a vase. "We have a dog now."

"How insightful of you to notice, really Fred, you're the smartest of the lot."

"We have to feed it."

"Correction," Lockwood said from the other side of the room, slipping on the coat that flapped way too much. "You have a dog to feed. I have to go buy more salt bombs for this afternoon."

"You're so mean to me," Freddie yawned. She grabbed some change from the little dish above the fridge and pulled her fingerless gloves on over her cold hands. She'd have to light the fire in the library and wait for everyone to migrate to the warmth like bugs to a ghost lamp after she fed the dog. "Why do I keep you around?"

"You said it yourself," Lockwood said with the voice that meant he was smirking. Freddie hated that voice. "Sentimental value."

When the door swung shut, and the impact knocked the umbrella out of its stand like it did every time, Freddie hopped off the bench and shrugged her coat on. She fed the crust of her toast to Chai when he came bounding down the stairs with a delighted bark. "Good boy, I'm just going to the shops."

"Dog foods dog food, isn't it?"

"Well, is she a puppy or an adult, does she have any allergies, how big or small, what breed is she?" The storeowner asked. Freddie imagined from the tone of their voice that they were glaring at her.

"Uh, a puppy, not that I know of, but he doesn't like banana bread." Freddie said firmly, then hesitated. "Uh, dog sized? He's a golden retriever, if that helps."

"Immensely," The person said through gritted teeth. She couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or not, so she decided to stay quiet. She should've gone to the corner store, only she assumed the pet store would be more helpful. Apparently not.

Freddie followed them down the aisle, keeping her feet close to the ground and her steps small so she wouldn't trip on anything. A heavy bag was pushed into her arms and she was left in the aisle as the storeowner trudged back to the check out. Freddie sighed and moved down the aisle, feeling the things on the shelves every few steps until she found a rope toy. At least she hoped it was a rope toy.