TAKE IT EASY • TC ✔️

6: Bed-Building

"So, uh, did you say you'd been here a week?" Timmy asked, as he followed Lucia into her apartment. Julius stirred at the new visitor, rousing himself from an apparent daydream and gambolling over to Timothée. He inspected Timmy eagerly, leaning forward to brush his nose against the hem of the boy's pants.

"I think he wants you to pick him up," she noted, and Timothée glanced up at her with raised brows. "He does that when he's craving attention," Lu explained, and Julius looked up at Timmy with an amusing amount of guilt on his face.

Timothée relented, bending down to pick up the cat. However, once he had a hold of it, he wasn't really sure where to go next. The scene playing out before Lucia resembled either The Lion King or Dirty Dancing - she wasn't sure which one took precedence, but either way Julius looked mortified.

"Just cradle him. Like a baby. Lord knows he acts like one," she instructed, eyes squinted at Julius as she recalled the fact he'd woken her up at three this morning, simply because he was bored. Timmy smiled distractedly, more concerned about the fact he felt he was about to drop Lucia's cat than anything.

"He'll take any form of attention, as long as you don't put him over your shoulder. He hates that," Lucia continued, slipping off her shoes. Timmy nodded wordlessly, curling a hand underneath Julius's lower back and holding him close to his chest.

"And to answer your question, yeah. I've been here a week. Feels like longer, but maybe that's just the fact I haven't slept properly in seven days," Lu laughed.

Timothée knew this, of course; he'd seen her boxes in the hallway last Thursday (not knowing at the time that they were hers). The poor boy was just trying to form some kind of conversation. He smiled at her.

"I hope I can be of some assistance, at least," he said slowly, brushing the pads of his fingers against Julius, who shivered delightedly, nestling into Timmy's touch. "I mean, I might make things worse," he continued doubtfully, now preoccupied by the fact his fingers were being licked by a certain cat.

Lucia stared at him. "Come here, a minute, Timothée," she said, beckoning him to follow with a small smile on her face.

He gestured to Julius. "Should I put him down, or-"

"No, the cat can stay," she waved it off, disappearing into the depths of the apartment. Timothée followed hastily, yet not without a certain sense of doubt. He clung to Julius tightly.

Soon, they arrived at the door to a room. Timothée unwillingly took a sharp intake of breath. It was, frankly, a complete mess. He wasn't even sure he could navigate his way around without having to sidestep and shuffle like he was dodging lasers in a particularly gruelling robbery scene of a crime drama.

"If you think you can make this," she gestured generally to the room, "any worse..." She trailed off, looking at it with a sigh. "I salute you."

Timothée would have grinned, but he was still trying to comprehend how messy it all was. Realising he was gaping like a goldfish, he snapped his mouth shut.

"But if you can't make things any worse, then things can only go upwards from here," she stated, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. She looked over at Timothée, who seemed slightly dazed.

Lucia panicked, worried that she'd intimidated him entirely. "Look, if this is too much, I get it. You don't have to help," she backtracked, a crease forming between her brows.

"No, no! I'll help, I'm just... still trying to get my head around... this," he finished, grinning slightly. "I mean, like. How do you even fuck up a room so badl-"