Indigo

Orange

Nearly a half hour later and the deed was done, Niue jacked up in the corrosive mind-altering substance stood up, setting his things down under his chair for safe keeping until his next fix.

"Are you coming inside," Niue asked his partner who still stared blankly over the balcony.

"I," he started, eyes fixed on the ground seven floors beneath them. "I think I'm just going to go home." He was obviously upset, it slowed in his body language and sounded in his tone. Niues place used to entice him, that was where the spark of their relationship first took place, when Ni allowed him to spend the night I. His injured state. It charmed him. Now it was just a painful reminder of what used to be and what is now.

"But I thought you said you were going to spend another night, Skit," Niue became a little upset as well now. He knew spending time with Skitzel meant so much to him, and it meant a lot to himself too. He ran over to Skitzel, grabbing his hand in his own. "Please, Skit. Please stay. I don't want to be left alone."

Skitzel gave him a little huff. "You stink, Niue. I have no interest in smelling your disgusting meth breath." He tore his hand away, turning around. Pushing Niue out of the way, he Re-entered the tiny apartment again, and headed toward the watch room. 

"Skitzel, wait-"

"I'm going to take a shower," he closed the door half way, he paused for a moment and sighed,

"You probably should too, you desperately need one."

Niue looked down a little bit, somewhat upset with the way Skitzel was suddenly treating him. "Can I join you?"

Skitzel glared at him from the washroom doorway. "No." He slammed the door shut, shouting through the obstruction, "There's hot water in the thermos. You're welcome."

Before Niue could say anything else in retortion, he could hear the water begin to run as Skitzel turned the shower on. He sighed quietly, that was that, he supposed. He walked up to the counter where the thermos sat, setting his elbows on the surface, resting head in hands. Where in the world did he go wrong, he thought. He picked up a piece labelled "Waterwork Shield" dropping the teabag into the thermos. He figured he'd just use up the rest of the water, it didn't make sense to save the rest. 

Taking one of the two remaining fruits, he tossed it lightly in his hand as he sat down in front of the blaring TV, steel container of tea in his other hand. Niue set the mug down on the wooden coffee table in front of him, quietly fishing through the couch cushions for the remote. He didn't find it. He took a small bite out of the fruit, spitting it out almost instantly. The fruit was rotting from the inside out. He muttered some inaudible Vexian before getting up and hulking it into the trash can. Back over at the counter, he swings the cupboard door open, the hinges make a terrible cracking sound. His eyes fixed on the hinge for a fraction of a moment before averting his attention to the bare shelves. Out of food again.

Niue decided he wasn't hungry after all and shut the door with the flick of his wrist. He glanced over at the television, white noise still spread sporadically across the screen. The sound grew more unbearable as he walked up to the TV, turning the knob to shut it off. 

"That's enough TV," he spoke to it, a soft groan. He picked up his tea, deciding he was going to sit outside while he waited for Skitzel to be done with his shower. This time allowed him to experience the drug in peace as it was beginning to take effect. 

It was quiet, it was nice. No one really used vehicles anymore, not since the economic crash about ten years prior. They were still in the rut of an economic depression, the worse they've seen in this part of the world since who knows how long ago. Now vehicles were only used by emergency response teams, for obvious reasons. He crossed his legs as he sat in his chair, the one Skitzel was seated in previously, slowly stroking the rail with one or two fingers. Across the street stood a little coffee shop with a small patio out front. Beautifully designed cast iron chairs with matching tables, a simple yet aesthetically pleasing marble-tile floor for said patio. He wondered if they were still in business, he never really saw anyone go in or come out of it before.