Footwork of Research

okay here’s the real deal. i’ve been clearing out some of my old blogs because i haven’t touched them in awhile and now i have the emails open to move this blog to a main. 

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

“Is that something you want to talk about?”

“Come on, sit down. It’s break time.”

“I needed that, thanks…”

“Here’s a blanket. You looked cold.”

“Thank god you’re back, I need to rant.”

“Is my sweater ever going to be returned?”

“Bad day? Emergency plans are in order.”

“Alright your ride has arrived, where to next?”

“I’m brushing your hair, it’s a mess.”

“You happened to go get lunch and ‘bought too much’ huh?”

“Your hugs are the best.”

“Hey. Hey. Heeeeeey. Come on. We’re gonna be late, get up.”

“I’m late, yes. You should be used to that by now.”

“How long as it been that we’ve known each other? Feels like ages.”

“There was something on your face, I had to get it off.”

“You’re sure people think we’re dating?”

“I think it’s hilarious people assume they’re dating just because they’re nice to each other.”

“I need to hang out with someone I like, can we pretend to be working for an hour?”

“Tea and coffee? What happened?”

“Here you go, one forgotten, left it at home in a rush, lost item!”

“I’m going for a walk, you want anything?”

“… sorry I took a nap on you.”

“I suppose I am now requisitioned to being a napping spot.”

  His own nudity went completely unnoticed by Phileas, who had never been taught the very human concept of shame and thus saw no reason to cover himself, except for protection from the elements. Still he accepted the blankets with a grateful smile, and within moments the lanky body had wrapped itself up in them like a particularly long burrito. His freezing toes curled testingly against the cushions. Much better, indeed. Now he could finally clear his mind enough to have a look around the room.

  As expected, he did not see much. A blurry scene of different specs of light and colours that would have done Monet proud. But his miserable vision aside, Phileas knew his tiny home like the back of his hand, and could immediately tell that Virgil had been fairly busy during his absence. The floor, for one did not much look like his floor at all. And Phileas could not help but turn his head every few seconds towards the sound of rustling paper passing him by like little birds.

  “Most people do not mind being rude.”, he said, his breathing finally calmed but his cheeks still rosy, granting the pale albino an almost healthy tint for once. Long fingers wrapped around the warm cup of tea, and he smiled.

  “Thank you. I am glad you are still here to say goodbye. I apologize for leaving you here, but I cannot stay in this house during the day, so I had to go.”

After passing off the tea, Virgil didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He stood before Phileas, quietly wringing his fingers folded before him as the papers fluttered as artificial birds behind him. 

“I...don’t want to be rude,” the scholar whispered, the memories of what happened when someone perceived him to be so inconsiderate choking him. He couldn’t possibly be rude, not to Phileas, who had been so kind with him despite him being so in the way and dropping in without warning. He may have already accidentally been rude to Phileas’ friend, so Virgil couldn’t afford to continue to be discourteous. He owed them that much. 

“I couldn’t ask you to be with me all day when you have plans already made.” And truly, he couldn’t ask it of Phileas to simply drop everything and cater to his needs simply because he was there. The other had a life outside of the whims of an odd stranger- and Virgil already wasted so much of his time. 

  The last time he had felt so freaking cold, he had dropped the key to his house in some long winter night, unable to find it in the dark until the next day, after he had already spent a whole night naked and shivering out in the open. Of course, before Hyung Soo and his friends had built the little shed for him, there had been a lot many of those kind of nights, though at least he had had some clothes and a tent, and a book or two to distract himself.

  Phileas did not resist when Virgil pulled him towards the couch, clumsily stumbling forward while his burning lungs did what they could to pump some oxygen into his system. He barely registered the unusually agile papers fluttering about. As he sank into the soft cushions, Phileas’ mind saw itself capable of but a single thought:

  He’s still here.

  The sheer joy packed into those four words was no match for his physical suffering. Phileas was so happy, so excited to be granted yet another night in friendly company, that he could barely fathom the surprise. He shimmied out of the damp blanket with some difficulty and pulled one of the pillows close.

  “H… hello…”, he gasped, still fighting with his breath.

  “I thought… you were… gone… already…”

Poor Phileas looked so cold, even as he sat on the couch while Virgil picked up all the blankets he could find off the bed. He hoped that his newly acquainted friend hadn’t been out in this downpour all day, the worry thrumming in his chest and heart in his throat as he dutifully piled the dry blankets onto the other’s lap. 

“Wh-what?” The words came to him as a surprise, a sharp twist of his heart as the fluttering papers fluttered through the quaint kitchen, nearly dropping a cup before Virgil caught it in the corner of his eye and made it set only slightly roughly onto the counter with a clatter of ceramic. “N-no, why would I...? That would...that would be rude, after you did so much for me-” 

He was stumbling on his words, Virgil knew, struggling to string together his thoughts. Phileas’ state of undress was suddenly far too noticeable, and Virgil could feel his ears burn as he decided he should focus on making tea instead. The papers floated like ambient moths, parting lazily as he scurried over to the kitchen to heat up some water, although careful not to smudge his sequencing across the floor.