☂ been a fool.

Whatever words Atlas could all to mind all felt too thick on their tongue. The flirty lines of ‘you’re sweeter than honey’, came to mind, but the teasing tone didn’t match with the scratching in their throat. ‘I wish you’d called me’, maybe, but then again, Roman wasn’t to blame, was he? With numb hands and eyes tracking his movements across the room, Atlas settled for, “I missed you.” 

Atlas slid down from their throne on the washer, the blanket still draped across their shoulder, a royal cape. They reclaimed their bag of laundry, lest they think too much. This was Roman, after all, it wasn’t meant to feel so uneasy. “We should watch Grand Budapest,” Atlas offered, a peace offering to sooth an offence they weren’t sure they’d committed. “I could honestly bath in honey and lemons right now.” They gave a small laugh, and it was as it they’d broken through the strange mood that had fallen over their body, the weariness slowly seeping from their bones. Atlas cocked their head to the side, eyeing Roman from the corner of his eye – a small quirk tugging their lips upwards. “D’you have everything?” 

☂ ---- THERE were few things on this earth that could make roman stop any current task he was completing on his own volition. those few things included dogs -- any size, breed, color, what-have-you would stop roman in his tracks in favor of petting it -- and any trace of film criticism, which, vouched by anyone who’s ever held a conversation with roman, sent the boy on a tangent and turned changing the subject of the conversation into a lost cause. if roman had to write out this list of things that could catch his attention without fail, ‘atlas’ would be scribbled haphazardly at the bottom, as if he had been pondering adding their name the entire time, but only decided to write it down at the very end. so, when atlas proclaimed, seemingly out of the blue, that they had missed him, roman stopped unloading his laundry for a moment, glancing over at atlas. he smiled fondly at them, the smile lingering as his gaze moved down to the floor. “i missed you too.”

Perhaps Atlas had allowed too much time to pass between now and the last time they’d spent time together. Perhaps it was the flu welling up inside them, the rolling headache pulsing through their temples. Or perhaps it was just the familiarity, the proximity to Roman and his too-small tee shirt and the bright yellow boxers, but Atlas was suddenly overcome by an inexplicable urge to cry — for lack of better reaction, for lack of an alternative emotion.  

Atlas kicked the machine underneath them, the clanging echo disrupting whatever train of though had taken over. “Dryer’s done,” they mumbled. 

☂ ---- ROMAN tried not to notice the way atlas changed. it was mostly because he couldn’t put a finger on it, couldn’t pin one specific thing and place it next to another -- couldn’t manage to categorize the feeling in the air in with any other sort of feeling he’s felt before. roman decided he didn’t like it -- it felt kind of heavy, like being covered in too many blankets, even though it’s too cold without them. 

          LATE NIGHT walks and charlie lyon had long since made their acquaintance. it was something about those without homes { w a n d e r i n g } their way through the city, trying to find their next safe-haven of slumber —— rats scurrying around street corners, searching for something to eat ; living day to day —— the humans of the NIGHT ; with nowhere to belong, and no sense of where they’re going … their pasts forgotten & far behind them. —— the stories of these people ; these strange, LOST creatures, resonated within charlie’s own caged heart more vividly than he’d ever care to admit. yes, it was for this reason —— this curious sense of belonging amidst those that don’t belong —— that the boy walked. 

          DRUNK on the night air & intoxicated by the raw darkness of the city, the gentle hum of light from shop windows blurred into a shapeless silhouette, colour without form, as charlie seemed to waltz through the street, pace contemplative yet swift. it was at this moment that a flash of bright yellow ( ! ) caught charlie’s attention, gaze snapping to the left to inspect the burst of colour’s source. gray hues scrutinised the small frame of a familiar boy through the laundromat’s window, a smile pulling upon the very corners of the blond’s lips before filling in the rest of his features. it was charlie’s very own roommate, ROMAN.

        pulling off his faux leather jacket, charlie entered the laundromat & wordlessly approached the curly-haired boy from behind, a chuckle falling from his lips as he tied his jacket around roman’s waist once he got close enough. “ i’m honestly a little HURT. you never told me that it was no-pants, cheese stick eating day today, roman. ”

☂ ---- ROMAN didn’t scare easily. it didn’t matter what was trying to scare him -- or who, for that matter -- roman was never any fun, because he’d give an underwhelming response. but there was something about the laundromat at an ungodly hour of the night that put roman on edge. just a little bit, of course -- he wasn’t in a rush to get out of there -- but he was attentive, his eyes flickering around more frequently than they would at some other time in the morning or afternoon. so when he didn’t hear the door open, and didn’t hear any footsteps approaching him from behind, and wasn’t prepared for a pair of hands to wrap a jacket around his waist, of course the logical response would be to jump out of his skin and flail a bit. it didn’t occur to him that kidnappers and overall, generally bad people usually wouldn’t try to preserve his modesty before snatching him right out of the local laundromat, but it was somewhere between eleven p.m. and two in the morning -- could he really be blamed for his brain taking a few shortcuts?

nikolai couldn’t help but feel particularly on edge since the day began; overcome with a restless sensation that only seemed to persist as hours passed, leaving with him an inability to focus and a feeling as though his skin crawled. while not unheard of, times like this were typically fleeting for nikolai. except, now, they were beginning to appear more often than he would like. perhaps it had to do with the upcoming holidays that plagued the calendar with one right after the other. something in itself that wasn’t necessarily bad but more so the after affects of said holidays. often leading to an influx of messages left on his phone from his parents who suddenly seem to care about family at this time of year. which—nikolai was russian and russians don’t celebrate thanksgiving. so why his parents wanted to fly over year after year since he took up residency in the states was beyond his comprehension. nikolai liked to think of himself as one who didn’t dwell on the past too much but it often proved difficult not to do when his отец and Мама decided a childhood wasn’t as high a value as money was when it came to his talent. picking at the edge of his phone case in his pocket, nikolai had hoped that a trip to starbucks would help despite caffeine being the complete opposite of what he needed. confrontation wasn’t quite something he had in mind when he originally went out to take his break before heading back to rehearsals but it was hard not to do when he could feel the gaze of someone nearly burning a hole through him. opening his mouth to speak again, nikolai was quick to close it and could only stare at the blue eyed boy in front of him. he knew americans were blunt regarding thoughts and opinions but since his time as a sixteen year old in america to now, never had he quite been this taken back. not that the question was by any means rude, just more forthright than what he remembered all those years ago. “indeed i am.” nikolai replied, finding himself more aware of his accent now that attention was brought to it as he kept up his expression of indifference on his features. “and you’re american, correct ? glad that we’ve gotten the basics out of the way.” 

Atlas’ stomach churned with guilt- and something else- because their absence couldn’t wholly be attributed to work. It was their choice to work more hours, take more cases. As far as distractions went, work seemed to be healthier alternative than late-night binge drinking at whatever bar would let them in after three drinks too many. It felt strange to meet Roman by serendipity. 

“You’re going to get sick, too,” Atlas protested, even as they unraveled the tight cocoon of their blanket to let in Roman, knees knocking against him. For all the emotional connection they had, there was still so much that Roman didn’t know. “I don’t think I’ll make it through the rinse cycle, Ro,” they said, matching Roman’s dramatics. Atlas gave an exaggerated sniffle that turned quickly into very real coughing. “This is the end for me,” Atlas gasped, “my last moments, spent by your side in this lovely local.” They gestured around the empty laundromat, breaking into laughter. “But yeah, I’m down for that. I sleep better on your couch anyway.” 

☂ ---- ROMAN wasn’t used to these happenstance sort of moments. they weren’t unwelcome, of course -- ESPECIALLY when they involved atlas -- but nonetheless, roman was always taken slightly aback whenever they occurred. he was never one for calculation, either, but he figured that if he was, he might have considered seeing atlas by chance to be highly unlikely. then again, with the way atlas threw themself into their work with the utmost reckless abandon, it might have been highly unlikely that he saw them by determination, all the same. regardless of the chances, roman hadn’t seen atlas in AGES, and it had become most obvious now that he could feel the heat radiating from their body.

wolfe tensed ready to throw fists, then they remembered that the landloard wasn’t fond of them and if they did actually punch roman there and now it was probably going to come back and bite them on the ass. “fuck. off. roman.”

Cara smiled widely, nodding her head. “I totally know what you mean. If I was smart at all I’d invest in another work shirt.” she laughed as he motioned to his outfit and she held up the obviously soiled shirt in her hand. “But then again why would I spend more money for a job that I don’t even love.” She watched as he tried to guess what the stain was, an amused expression crossing her features at his guess. “Thats a good guess, but no. Split pea soup. I’m just hoping it washes out.”

josephine moved from behind the dryer and walked over to one of the washing machines, and sat her bag on top. “ clearly, ” she raised a brow, hands on her hips, smirking. “ nice underwear, by the way. you look nice in yellow. ” she turned away, giggling, and started tossing random articles of clothing into the washer. “ true. best girl group of all time, you know ? “

Atlas couldn’t do much but wordlessly accept the cheese stick and prop themselves up on the nearest washing machine, burrowing into the blanket. “I didn’t mean it, Ro, your wardrobe is great.” Atlas’ own closet was a sea of black, all jackets and hiking boots with lab coats as the only other color. They didn’t intend to be bland, though CSI work left little time for anything other than CSI work. Atlas kicked the washer with the heel of their boot, the thunk echoing in the empty room. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever – which is my fault, but…” 

Their eyes watered, tiny shivers still running up their arms. Being pathetic, it seemed, was Atlas’ specialty, but they were beyond the point of caring, unable to think past the pounding headache brewing behind their temples. Atlas held up a weak thumbs-up. “I’m fucking sick as dick, but it’s been worse.”  

“ mmm. if i’m bein’ honest, anything with ‘dying girl’ in the title seems pretty heavy to me. “ 

sonny really had to stop leaving everything right to the last minute. now he was stuck with no clean clothes and two massive bags of laundry that he had to get sorted urgently. wearing sweatpants, flip flops and the most awful hawaiian shirt going, he headed down the street to the laundromat, trying not to sulk, but he would have to be in there for ages on his night off and he just couldn’t be bothered. so he was sulking. he pushed open the door and went inside and he definitely did not stomp his feet a little. although, open entering he noticed another presence inside and his jaw dropped a little at the sight of him. wow. “i’m not sure about the yellow if i’m honest, but kudos for trying the new look, roman.” he smiled, trying not to laugh at his own words as he headed to the washer beside roman. at least he wasn’t the only hideously dressed one. 

Cara didn’t usually do her laundry on the weekends, it was one of the busiest times of the week to do it, but she had spilled split pea soup all over her good work shirt, and if she didn’t wash it out tonight, it would never come out. Plus she had to work the next morning anyway. It was late, and she didn’t expect anyone to be there, so the look of shock was evident across her features when sitting there, was another person sitting there in bright colored boxers no less. “Run out of clean clothes?” She asked with a laugh hoping that her sudden arrival would not make him feel uncomfortable. The brunette gave a small smile as she made her way to an empty washer.

“i’m gonna punch you if don’t quit.” they mumbled almost to themself pinching the bridge of their nose. “i don’t give a flying fuck if tarantino filmed the entire trilogy on the goddamn moon i don’t want to hear about it.”

“oh, yeah, i have some hand soap. lucky for you, i have a bunch of different scents for you to choose from. ha, there’s never an inconvenient time to get high.”