Roommates & Soulmates

Clary's Dishes

Clary looked at the state of her kitchen and wondered if she was actually unemployed. If she got paid by the hour, Clary was starting to think she could call herself the live in maid. There were dishes stacked precariously on every surface, in varying degrees of gross. Mugs with tea bags or coffee grounds still in them had been left to sit and congeal. Empty takeout containers were scattered across the table and counter. Bags of chips, boxes of crackers, and all manner of non-perishable foods hadn't been put away, and were mixed into the mess as if someone was trying to play russian roulette with food poisoning. She knew at least half of this mess was Jordan's, but she also knew the other half was Jace and Simon's fault. Alright she would admit - if only to herself - that part of this was also her. Still, Clary felt sure that the majority of it was their fault.

Clary had been excited to have Simon move in, especially since it had meant they could suddenly afford the lovely apartment. What she wanted to know now was how that had lead to her being the only woman living in a house full of guys? And that begged the question of why her singular female status somehow meant she had to do all the cleaning.

Okay she knew it was more than that. After all, Clary was the only person without a job for the summer. Jace was working at the docks where Magnus had worked last summer, and he'd been trying to get Jordan a job there too since it paid better than fast food. Jace had yet to get this worked out however, so Jordan and Simon were still at Timmies. Even taking into account all the rational reasons, the longer this went on, the more Clary fantasized about killing them all! It wasn't like she wasn't helping with rent... or rather her parents were. But once she graduated, she was totally going to pay them back.

With a sigh of defeat, Clary walked forward and began. First she put the actual food away, closing up boxes of crackers so they didn't go stale and putting them away. Then emptied the sink of dishes and scrapped leftovers. By now the trash can smelled like it was growing new life, so she took that out then came back replaced the bag. Plugging the drain Clary started running the hot water and squirting some dish soap into it, before donning her gloves and started the dreaded chore, starting with the mugs. Clary was trying to think happy thoughts while her hands worked. She put on music, but it was hard to distract herself. She reminded herself that this situation was temporary. When Jace and her got a place of their own, she was sure they could sort things out more evenly. Maybe she'd have a job by then. The water was turning green, and she had no idea why until she found the tea bag. It had stowed away in one of the cups, and was steeping (turning the water to tea) her soapy dish water. Well at least it smelt like green tea and not mold right?

The mugs were now sitting in the drying rack, so she stacked all the plates in the water, and the cutlery on top, before pulling a pot on top of it all. When no one rinsed dishes, soaking them was the only way to do it. Clary had known she'd done too many dishes when she realized she'd developed a system to make it faster. She'd wash mugs first, then soak the plates and cutlery, while washing the pots and pans. By the time she had what was left of Jace's scrambled eggs off the pan, the plates were ready to be cleaned. Since they'd soaked, everything cleaned up quickly, and Clary then only had the cutlery left in the sink. She picked them up in handfuls and used her scrubber to wipe them down before rinsing them. Setting everything to dry, Clary stared at the remaining containers and miscellaneous dishes with hatred.

"Fuck this," Clary told the hated dishes. She drained her water, took off her gloves, and went to lay on the couch. Why were dishes so totally and completely mind numbingly boring? Right now she was staring up at the ceiling, which was somehow infinitely more interesting. There was no one else home. Her phone was in her pocket still blaring out music that had tried to increase the quality her dish washing. Clary pulled it out and started typing.

'Hey,' she typed. She got a reply right away.

'Hey yourself,' Brett texted back.

'My house is a mess,' Clary texted. 'How are you?'