#thread: daniela1

Eventually, the door to the cafe swung open and in walked Daniela. Finally. Dawsey shifted in his chair as soon as he saw her, wincing a little when the action caused his ass to give a small ache in protest, reminding him of what he’d been up to two nights ago and why he’d demanded this emergency meeting. He’d have preferred to have it with wine, but apparently Daniela drew a line at that during the working day.

“What took you so long?” he asked her, sharper than intended as she took the seat across from him.

“Ayden,” he called. “Ayden.”

There was no answer, not that Ben really expected one with the tone he was taking right now. His uncle’s ward rarely responded to any voice that suggested a reprimand was on its way.

Sighing to himself, he scrubbed the towel against his head, quickly drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist, holding the two ends together securely. As he opened the bathroom door, he poked his head around the corner to the living room. Ayden was lying on the sofa, thumbs furiously jabbing at his Nintendo Switch, in perfect earshot.

“Ayden, what have we said about using up all the hot water? I don’t know how many times I need to keep telling you this,” he sighed.

“I grew up in the desert, dude. I need heat,” Ayden said, around the string of his hoody that was crammed into his mouth. He didn’t look up from his screen once and all Ben could do was sigh, this time in defeat.

“You really know how to wind me up, don’t you?” he said, although he would be lying if he claimed that his expression wasn’t a little bit fond.

Shaking his head, he straightened up, ready to make his way to his own room when the front door swung open. His Uncle Quentin walked in, carrying two suitcases with him that instantly had Ben wondering if he had forgotten something important, a trip they were supposed to be taking, perhaps. That was altogether ridiculous though. It was right in the middle of the academic year, so there was no way his uncle would see fit to take him and Ayden out of state when he knew Ben’s job required his presence there. But then again, he wasn’t all too sure if Quentin would take note of that caveat, scatter-brained and uncaring of routine as he was. 

“What’s all that then?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Quentin looked up, blinking owlishly at him. 

“It’s her stuff,” he said, rather plainly at that.

“Whose stuff?”

Ayden glanced at something over Quentin’s shoulder and then sat bolt upright, hoody string falling from his mouth. 

“Holy shit,” the teenager said.

Benji frowned, craning his neck to see what all the fuss was about, only for the door to open even further and welcome in a rather disgruntled looking Daniela Lopez, another bag in her hand. At once, his eyes widened. He looked between the woman and his uncle, the latter’s expression suggesting that he was completely baffled by his nephew’s apparent confusion.

“I told you Daniela was moving in with us,” Quentin said, with the confidence of someone who truly believed what he was saying.

Mouth falling open, all Ben could do was stare. His grip on the towel tightened when he remembered his state of (damp) undress. Part of him wanted to shy away, perhaps retreat further back into the bathroom, but right now he was worried that he might have accidentally stumbled into some sort of hostage negotiation if everything about Daniela’s demeanour was anything to go by. She looked like their tiny little apartment was the absolute last place she wanted to be.

“Sorry, what?” Ben asked. The mind truly boggled.

Of course, Elena had a key, meaning she could come and go whenever she pleased. But it was common knowledge that Arturo's landlord was also a piece of shit, and the lock on his front door been broken since Arturo moved in. If you pushed the handle up and leaned all your weight on the door, it more or less gave. Arturo had tried the trick once or twice himself when he'd misplaced his key.

All of this to say, he was a little startled when he heard somebody knocking. He lifted his head from underneath the den of blankets he'd crawled under, cocking his head to the side, as though he'd imagined the rap on his door.

He considered ignoring it. He'd already made up his mind about not going to work today. Ravi never noticed when his desk sat empty, and anyway, he'd try and draw something later in the day, when his head felt clearer. Sometimes it helped, to draw a little.

But the knocking continued. It was a polite little sound, persistent, spiking his curiosity.

"Alright, I'm coming." he tried to raise his voice to no avail. His throat was thick and his tongue sat heavy in his mouth, a bitter taste in the back of his throat. His head stung a little too. He kicked back the blankets - he'd just about managed to strip to his boxers before falling asleep - and pushed his messy mane of hair off of his face.

It was exactly four strides from his bedroom to his front door (he'd counted, in his aimless, unemployed day) so he cleared it in no time, hand fumbling for the doorknob - he had forgotten to lock the door last night! - and letting the light from the hallway flood in.

His features softened, a smile breaking out across his face when he saw the woman standing there.

"Beautiful Daniela." he beamed, opening his door a little wider. "I'm not dressed for company."