Making Waves

Priorities

Wasn't that just a great first impression, Fitz thought to himself as he shook his head back and forth and rolled his eyes. He was alone in the second story of the beach house and mentally going over everything he had said or done to Liv that surely had come across as rude. He could be such a moron sometimes.

The thought crossed his mind to go downstairs and apologize to her, but before his hand could turn the doorknob, her comment about him constantly apologizing had him stopping in his tracks and let go of it. She'd give him shit for it if he did, and then he'd say something else he shouldn't. Oh well.

Instead, he went to search out the sole bedroom, dragging his suitcase behind him. Propping it up on the only chair in the room, Fitz unzipped it and began putting his clothes away. Some were put into the tan dresser and some were hung up in the nearby closet. Immediately putting away his clothes whenever he travelled had been a long standing tradition for him. It felt good knowing things were in their place. In much the same way, he kept his dirty clothes together while away too. The whole idea of being tidy was to make packing up to go home easier.

Once his suitcase had been emptied and placed inside the closet to be stored until he left, he wanted to take a look at the kitchen. Liv's comment about it being nicer than the one downstairs had piqued his curiosity, and even though he had no idea what hers looked like, he wanted to know what he'd be dealing with.

A loud yawn escaped his lips as he entered the now darkened room. Placing his hand flat on the wall, he moved it around until he felt the switch plate and flipped the rectangular knob up. The room filled with soft light. It was a great space, well designed and furnished with high end appliances all around. The owner had spared no expense with the kitchen, and Fitz found himself excited about that more than anything else.

The yearning to poke through cabinets and learn the layout of where everything was kept was of utmost interest to Fitz. However, the long drive coupled with meeting his peppy housemate had his eyes feeling heavy. He tried to tell himself that it was far too early to go to bed, but the repetitive yawns signaled his body for immediate sleep.

He was on vacation anyway. There is no such thing as a sleep schedule when you're on vacation.

On a shrug, he gave in to the need to close his eyes. He wished he had stopped and bought some water on the way. Thoughts of going to ask Liv for a bottle wafted through his mind, but since he had already canceled interacting with her again tonight, he trudged to the refrigerator instead. Praying for some glimpse of kindness or miracle, he opened the metal door and found that it was stocked with a few basics. Six bottles of water, a dozen eggs, a quart of milk, some butter, and a couple of other things sat on the shelves, facing him like perfect little soldiers.

A loud groan of appreciation to whoever had left these items behind filled the room. Grabbing one of the waters, he made quick work of ridding the plastic cap and took long gulps of the cold clear drink. He stopped long enough to take a deep breath, shut the refrigerator door, flipped off the light, and trudged back toward the bedroom.

By the time he got there, the water was gone. The empty plastic bottle and lid were thrown into the small trashcan seconds before Fitz flopped his long body, belly first onto the prettily made up bed. He was sound asleep in seconds.

Seven hours later, Fitz stirred with the uncontrollable urge to pee. He forced one eye to open for a peek at the time. Groaning his displeasure at the ungodly hour of five a.m., he closed that eye in hopes of catching a little more sleep. His screaming bladder wouldn't allow it though.

On an unhappy grunt, he rolled off the bed and zombie walked into the adjoining bathroom. Feeling a little more human and a lot less irritated after washing and drying his hands, he stretched all the kinks out of his body and then headed to the kitchen.