"oh, fuck."
those were his first words to her.
"shit, sorry."
and those were her first words to him.
neither could have guessed what'd come of meeting on the rooftop of their building at midnight when they both needed a getaway from their own profou...
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• arsonist's lullaby // hozier •
7b can you watch pogo for me please? i'd be maximum an hour
5c why don't you get your girlfriend to watch him?
7b i don't do girlfriends i see your car out front so i'm giving you my dog i'll bring you food when i get back
She couldn't help, but think 'what asshole doesn't call the woman he picks up from the airport to live with him his girlfriend?' Her thoughts were interrupted when he walked through her door. She put her textbook on the coffee table as Pogo jumped onto her lap.
Jax babbled as he snatched her keys from the table by the door. "Borrowing your car. Thanks for this. Work emergency. Shouldn't be long."
She stood, walking to the door from where he hastily ran. "What kind of emergency comes with being a starving artist?"
"I'll tell you when I get back!" he shouted up the stairwell.
***
Just over two hours later, Jax came through her door with an almost apologetic look on his face as he lifted a paper bag.
"I brought Chinese food."
Kaede sighed and waved him over. "You're lucky my cat likes your dog enough to let him come over."
Jax's eyes widened as he looked around. "You have a cat?!"
"Yeah, what's the big deal?"
"I love cats! Where is he?"
"She is probably hiding. She doesn't like people as much as dogs." Kaede began to dig into the bag when she stopped, noticing the label. "Wait, this is from the expensive place on 8th avenue. How'd you afford this?"
"Because I'm not a starving artist," he shrugged with a laugh as he grabbed the order of chicken balls. He saw her staring at him with bewilderment, and he figured she wanted him to explain. "I actually do quite well for myself. My work emergency was that someone was buying one of my paintings and I need to be there for higher sales. Otherwise, my manager does it for me."
"What's classified as a higher sale?" she asked, using a fork for her noodles because she had no coordination to use chopsticks.
"In the thousands," he answered nonchalantly.
She nearly choked on a noodle. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Yeah, I just sell a couple paintings a month, and I've got a pretty good living."
"Holy shit," she gasped. "This whole time I've been buying you food."
"Hey, I won't deny free food," he said with a smirk.
