The Matchmaker (Katnest)

Chapter 2: The Tape

Katrielle woke up. She sat up in her bed and sighed, rubbing her eyes.
She groaned. She'd snapped at Ernest last night, hadn't she? How could she do something like that? The poor boy was only trying to care for her. She'd have to apologize to him once she arrived at the agency. She stretched with a squeak and hopped out of bed, preparing herself for her day.
—

Katrielle flipped the kickstand on her bike as she parked in the alley next to the agency. She retrieved the keys out of her pocket and walked to the door, her footsteps tapping on the sidewalk. She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping into her work.
Sherl was sitting up in his small bed as if he had been waiting for her.

"Hello, Sherl." Katrielle shut the door softly.

"Kat." Sherl replied coldly.

Kat sighed and went to hang her coat and headband up.

"I hope you have a long apology written out for Pinstripes. That name is an insult to his loyalty to you, Kat." Sherl shook his head as he stood up.

"I know." Katrielle sounded ashamed.

"Is he in the kitchen?" She asked.

"No. He hasn't shown up yet." Sherl responded.

Katrielle paused for a moment. That wasn't like Ernest at all. He was never late. Katrielle shook her head.

"He's probably slept in. I made him stay up too late anyhow."

Sherl grunted.

"You know what? I can make tea. I can prepare something so he gets to relax. That might help." Katrielle said as she rushed to the kitchen and opened the door. Sherl seemed satisfied with her selflessness in the situation as he followed.

Soon she walked back into the main room, opening the door with her hip just as Ernest had done. A nice pot of Chamomile with a selection of different biscuits.
Now, she waited. She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. What would she say to him? 'I'm sorry.' would be in there, that was for sure. There would be a lot of that. There would definitely be some form of 'I appreciate all that you do.' in there.
How long had she been thinking? She looked up at the clock and tapped her foot. Half-an-hour. He was half-an-hour late. He'd never done this before.

"We have to see if he's alright." Katrielle said as she stood up and put some biscuits into a napkin.

Sherl didn't question anything, seeming worried as well. They walked out of the agency and to the bike. Sherl hopped into the basket, and off they went down the streets. Down the sidewalks, right turn, down, left.
Then they arrived. Kat dismounted her bike and Sherl tumbled out of the basket trying to get out. Katrielle made her way to Ernest's door, recognizing the address. She knocked three times.

"Ernest?" She spoke. No response, no sound of movement in the small house.

"Ernest?" She spoke once more, knocking again. Nothing. Her hand touched at the doorknob and a click sounded.
The door wasn't locked. Katrielle inhaled before opening it further.

"Ernest?" She called once more. "I'm coming in."

She stepped in and Sherl slowly came in as well. Ernest's home was nothing fancy, though it was still very cozy. He kept everything very neat and tidy.
Katrielle stepped into his kitchen. Clean. Nothing to report. She set the biscuits on the counter and turned to his stairway.

"Ernest?" She called up. Silence. She sighed and went up the stairs hurriedly.

His bedroom door was wide open, and the room was a mess. The bed sheets were scattered, a pillow was on the floor, and his bedside lamp was knocked over. Was this some sort of aftermath of a meltdown? Maybe Ernest was underneath the pile of blankets bunched up on his bed. He had to be. Katrielle quietly walked in, eying the blankets.