Procrastinators on Stage (Chris Kendall/crabstickz fanfic) *unedited*

Part 24- I Don't Like His Adorableness

The next week of work couldn’t compare to that Saturday at the gallery with Chris. In fact, the closest thing I’d had to it was on Sunday, when we’d both spent the majority of our day watching the other person play ‘The Simpsons: Hit and Run’ and staring at crappy Sunday afternoon films on TV through drooping eyelids. But then, any time that I was at work felt like a surreal blur to me, so nothing felt notable compared to Saturday. Everything was so regular and predictable that I simply submerged myself in the routine.

I knew by midweek, once I’d been left alone with my thoughts for hours on end whilst I worked, that I definitely had feelings for Chris. He may act like an arse, use sarcasm as a weapon and think that I was acting plain stupid most of the time, but he wasn’t all that. He had this core of almost gentlemanly sweetness, where he’d worry that I’d hurt myself, be concerned and want to cheer me when I was upset, and would gently correct me if I made a mistake whilst we both laughed it off.

I was so disgustingly cheery that it made me want to rip my heart from my chest and throw it against the wall. On the other hand, this gooey, soppy, pining feeling was new and intriguing. I may have had relationships in the past, but I’d never felt this vulnerable to my emotions. It creeped me out. I found myself eager to leave work at the end of the day because then I could see Chris and find out what he vlogged about that day, or what new achievements he may have unlocked on whatever video game had taken his fancy that morning.

When I got home from work on Thursday, I felt drained and exhausted. Much to the dismay of the theatre, a mass flu outbreak had started, which had apparently started with one of the Elphaba’s having a coughing fit or something. This made the numbers at the theatre very small, meaning that I was trying to make up for the work that the Drones were unable to do because they’d stayed at home ill. It made me want to play sick myself.

Of course, how Chris and I were unable to sleep very well at night was also a factor in my fatigue. It was all well and good that Chris could sleep during the day like an owl, but I had to go to work. This meant that Chris was practically hyper when I came home in the evenings, like an over affectionate dog, or something. I really wanted to be that eager in seeing him too, but I was just so tired all of the time.

On that Thursday, Chris was actually waiting outside the flat when I climbed out of the lift. He didn’t seem to be locked out, judging by the open door behind him, but the suspicion that he was waiting for me wasn’t something that I could shake.

“What’s wrong?” I said sceptically when I saw him through the widening gap between the lift doors.

Chris smiled at me, showing off his teeth as he practically grinned. “We need to cook food.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, now,” he persisted as he held the door open for me to trudge through into the flat. “Do you remember how I offered to draw up a cooking rota on your first day here?”

I looked over my shoulder at him as he ushered me into the kitchen space. “I thought you were joking!”

“You thought wrong. I’ve been cooking all week, and it’s your turn. I’ll write a rota while you cook.”

I groaned as I moved into the kitchen. “Do we have to do this now? I’m tired.” I removed my bag from my back and shrugged myself out of my jacket as I set them down in one of the dining chairs. “I appreciate how you’ve done food this week, but I really need to just take a few bites of a sandwich, and then go to sleep.”

Chris raised an eyebrow at me. “But you’re always tired… unless it’s four am… And besides, we went shopping on Saturday. Surely, you can remember the random crap that you put into the shopping basket? It was all so fancy!”