Sometimes

Sang

I thought I was going to have to clock North to give his head a shake. He was clearly not overly impressed by my place. 

I get it.

 It's not the best building, nor is it a good neighbourhood. But desperate times made for desperate measures and I honestly couldn't be too picky about where I lived when I left my parents' house on a whim in the middle of the night. 

Over the years, I started making it my own. With every paycheque, I made sure to buy something colorful and entirely unnecessary. I swore, after growing up with nothing but a few scraps of clothing and two books gifted to me by my parents, that if I ever got my own place, it would be nothing but color. In fact, my most recent purchase was a framed, neon pink, oval shag carpet. I could lean on it when putting my shoes on, it felt like a hug every time, and it was the best investment I've ever, ever not needed to buy. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm super grateful that he was willing to haul Blossom down to his shop to give her a proper once over to figure out what the heck was wrong, but I could practically feel the air around him vibrating walking to my apartment. 

I glanced at the time, I had a few hours until I had to get to work, and the prospect of showing off my trinkets made excitement bubble in my chest. Finally! Someone appreciated the care I put into everything I put together! 

I tossed my bag on the black entryway chair and head toward the kitchen. Coffee was needed. It was going to be one hell of a night and I wasn't going to be getting any sleep tomorrow morning with this stupid laptop issue. Maybe I should've put the framed shag on hold for another few weeks to get my laptop fixed or a new one but, priorities. I turn on the percolator in time to hear a series of knocks on my door, making me smirk. 

Swinging my door open with a smile, I usher Gabriel in with a flourish. He tosses a bag he brought up with him next to mine on the chair and steps in without any hesitation. 

"This place is fucking spectacular!" He all but squeals as he hones in on the wall carpet, petting it delicately. He moves carefully throughout the apartment looking at literally every little thing that I've ever collected, while I grab a coffee to enjoy. It seems like he's inspecting a part of my soul and I'd rather not be around while he judges it. 

"Where did you find all this stuff?" He says, flopping down on the couch and giving it an extra bounce as he realizes just how comfortable it is. His eyes grow wide as I just nod my head in understanding. 

"It's why I bought it." I say. It's a disgusting brown corduroy couch but you melt into it. It's easily the most expensive thing I've ever purchased, but I had to have it. "Oh, can I get you a coffee?" I ask sipping away at my own. 

"Yeah, please. Black." he says, melting further into Brownhilda's cushions. I grab a mug from the cupboard, filling it with coffee before topping mine up. His head is leaning against the back now, arms wide, eyes closed. It's cute. I plop the coffee onto the table in front of him, then figure I should just give Mr. Lappy just one more try before writing him off entirely. 

I owe him that much. 

Owed anyway. 

He did not even bother turning on. Dammit! 

I unceremoniously slam him shut, harder than I ever would if he were functional, but fuck him right now and his deserting me at this moment of need. The noise of him slamming, clearly wakes Gabriel and I should feel bad about it but all I can say is oops. 

Gabriel laughs from the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"I'm sorry for waking you," I say, he waves me off as he leans over, elbows on his knees. 

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I fucking fell asleep!" 

I smile, the comfort of that couch strikes again. 

"What's got you slamming fists down onto inanimate objects?" He asked, grabbing his cup of now likely tepid coffee - smirking at the giant cat head mug - before heading over toward me in the kitchen. 

"Mr. Lappy has died and he didn't even have the decency to let me get my stuff before he did, and now he's got his death clutch on my research for my final paper." I sigh dramatically, glaring at Mr. Lappy like it will make any difference at all to a beyond reparable laptop. "Do you know how to hack into a laptop to get my files by any chance?" 

"I can do a lot of things, but computers are not my bag." he says, a flicker in his eye telling me he's thought of something, but before I can ask what's run through his mind, my alarm goes off with my countdown to get ready. 

"Shit! I-I'm so sorry! I have to get ready for work and I, shit. I have to bus there. Shit." I have even less time to get ready now, and it's a big tip night.

I'm trying to recalculate my timelines when Gabriel rattles his keys in front of my face to get my attention. 

"I'll drive you, it's really no big deal." 

The squeal of excitement that escapes from the deepest part of me would be terrifying, and likely was because Gabriel's eyes grow wide. I launch myself at him, kissing him square on the mouth in utter gratitude. 

"Thank you!" I jump excitedly, his cheeks have a light dusting or blush tinting them and I can't help but stop to admire the look of this man blushing. He's really quite the good looking specimen of a man, the obvious care he's put into his entire being, from the outfit right down to the studs in his ears. 

He clears his throat, and I realize I've been staring at him. 

Oops. 

"Okay, please make yourself at home. There's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry. Cookies on the counter and, if you wouldn't mind cranking some music while I'm washing my hair I would be most appreciative." I say, backing away slowly. 

I'm making an ass out of myself, 

Kissing yet another one of Kota's friends, although this was a gratitude kiss, but still. I did kiss him all the same. 

I turn, about to leave him do his own devices, when he grabs my hand. 

"I can help you get ready if you'd like." The tint of red turning darker and spreading down to his neck now. My eyebrow quirks up in question, because pardon? I don't think I was being overly flirtatious there. I don't know how any of what I just said could be construed as an invitation? Could it? He notices my apprehension, and smirks. 

"Get your mind out of the gutter. It's not in a pervy way, it's what I do. I make masterpieces shine." He walks past me, disappearing down the front hallway, emerging moments later with the bag he brought in earlier. He digs through it and pulls out two clear bottles containing a frighteningly beige-vomit colored concoction. 

"I can wash and style your hair when you're ready. Just shout when you're finished what you normally do and I can wash your hair for you." I smirk. It really wasn't as dirty as it had initially sounded, odd, sure but not dirty.

"Is that a Gabriel concoction?" 

He nods in confirmation and that's all I needed to hear before giving him a smile, "Alright then. Pick some music though, would you?" I ask, as I disappear down the hall toward my bathroom. Truth is, I hate showering. Can't shake the feeling of dread every time I head in here knowing I need to take a shower. The only thing that's ever helped is having music to distract me. 

I hear his musical choice, Bliss n' Esso, and I can't help but smile as I turn on the shower. 

An excellent choice.