#poor tool

“Man i wish I could but what else could I possibly do…”

*idea*

In the whole of their story this a little more angsty but I’ll put those in the tags lol

[Tool Masterlist]

A radio was crooning down the hall, close enough to drift into the kitchen, but too far to hear the words distinctly.

An old cookbook propped up against the cabinet, half ignored, but Tool gave it a cursory glance every once and a while. What spices, what stages. Inspiration mostly, not quite instruction.

And to be truthful he really only looked at the faded pencil scribbles around the margins. Those they honored very specifically.

Another glance and a stir to the pan before setting aside the remaining ingredients and the board and knife into the sink.

Something soft brushed against his pant leg and Tool tsked.

“How did you get out, you little twerp,” Tool muttered as he rinsed off his hands quickly. Maria’s cat, Mamba, didn’t answer of course, instead rubbing up harder against Tool’s leg, rumbling softly.

With a final look to make sure their sofrito wouldn’t burn, Tool leaned down to escort the cat out of the kitchen. Mamba allowed herself to be lifted, stretching out her limbs for longer than one would assume from the black puff of fur. When finally secured in Tool’s arms, she twisted around to lick his hands.

“Yes, yes, I know you’re curious but you can sniff the floor boards later, Mamba.”

They escorted the invader back to Maria’s bedroom, which of course she cried as if the closed door was a sentence of solitude for a thousand lifetimes. Used to this bit of theatrics, Tool returned to the kitchen.

Thankfully nothing had burnt, but now with an inviting smell drifting through the house.

Some time later as the dish was nearly finished, Tool heard footsteps and a jingle of keys in the door.

“Hey Tool,” Maria called out a moment later, more jingling and shuffling as she hung up her bag and keys. He knew well by now there was nothing to be afraid of with Maria, but still felt that prickle of anxiety anyway.

“Dinner smells good,” a voice came from the walkway. They glanced up to see her leaned up against the wall, scrubs and all. She smiled warmly at him, and he returned a small one.

“It’s, it’s almost done,” said Tool, speaking loud enough to hear. He was proud of that, that I was getting better. Not always easier, but better.

“Great. I’m gonna get changed.”

“I put Mamba in there! Don’t-“ called out Tool as she walked away, only to see a streak of black fly down the hall and back around his ankles.

“Ah!” Exclaimed Maria, chasing after the cat and scooping her up to keep her out of the kitchen. Tool returned to last minute preparations, as he heard Maria mumbling some chastisement to Mamba in Spanish.

He chuckled to himself and smiled. Things were getting better

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Taggys because I like this one and Tool comfort is #rare