â Fitz & Krystal
His words came muffled, echoed, as she rummaged in the linen closet just down the hall from the living room for a stack of new towels. And she stilled, a flurry of words tinged with polite denial and obligatory rejection of his compliment bubbling in her throat. She did not voice them, however. She had no reason to. After all, she did not think herself worthy of receiving such a praise when she had never considered her dreary apartment with its barren walls and lackluster furniture her home. With a small shake of her head and a weary sigh, she grabbed three neatly folded towels and padded back into the living room.
Krystal didnât fail to notice Spock coiled on top of her radiator and the near silent drip drip of water running off damp fur and forming a puddle beneath his swaying tail. The sight was oddly domestic and brought a tender smile to her face. âThank you,â she answered him softly as she draped a swath of baby blue cotton over Spockâs body and began rubbing gently, tentatively as though she was afraid Spock would resist a strangerâs touch. Sheâd responded out of mere acknowledgment, thinking it rude to brush of his comment, and hoped he could not hear the trace of dissatisfaction in her voice. âItâs really not much.â
It really wasnât. No pictures, no mementos, no odd knickknacks to commemorate important events or document what shouldâve been a pretentiously happy life she lived. There was nothing, but off-white walls surrounding the one-bedroom apartment and an assortment of mismatched furniture sheâd bought as a means to uphold her facade. What sheâd meant to say was: This will never be home.
Krystal cleared her throat quietly and gestured for him to take a seat on the couch. âPlease sit.â She said, stepping gingerly over the growing puddle and offering him one of the towels. âHere, dry off before you get sick. Iâm sorry I donât have a dryer available for you to use. I donâtââ she paused, voice catching out of embarrassment, âI donât have clothes for you to change into. Iâm sorry.â
As I waited for her, my eyes continued to peruse the room. At that time, I did not think of it as barren. Simple, perhaps, but all the same, it was more walls than I had been used to as of recently, and it offered a security that I doubt even she knew of. I made a general supposition that she was not often here, but bothered not to enquire about it. The rise of her footsteps as she returned to the room caught my attention once more, and I watched her attend my dog, with more care than he had seldom received. Spockâs tail thumped twice against the ground in two lazy beats of happiness at her gesture, and his body leant into her womanly touch. Such gentle affection as this was not common for either of us, and he twisted his head up towards her, gracing her with a slimy and toothy dogâs smile, and a fervent lick to her jaw. I could only watch with so much delight before the bother of jealousy set in. I padded over on wet feet to the floor beside my dog and our companion and slid, ungracefully, to the floor. I pressed my back to the radiator, eyes fluttering closed as the spread of warmth grasped hungrily through my weary bones, and with this cosiness it awoke in me a renewed tiredness I had not before noticed. A yawn broke free of me before I deigned to reply. âThank you, this will do well enough,â I smiled at her with a half silent chuckle and a shrug, my eyes still closed and head tilted back in comfort. "I doubt I would want to be caught wearing your clothes, anyway." I had half a mind to stretch myself out before the heater and take a much more canine approach to my situation, but remembering my company I remained seated upright and accepted the towel, rubbing mildly at my dripping hair and reluctantly avoiding shaking it out. I realized I had barely spoken to her since moving, and now opened my eyes to address her, however both my gaze and my voice had fallen sleepily. The frequent silences that sat between us had become oddly comfortable. "Have you lived here for long?"












