It's getting darker outside but he doesn't turn on the lights. It's not necessary.
Watching the news has become a chore, a step in moving towards the inevitable end of the day that'll just lead to another. But no day is ever the same. No.
They're all different when you live life like you're supposed to.
Thoughts turn into looks as he notices the girl besides him giving one of those glares again. Get up. Do something. He does. He smirks at her and causes her hair to frizzle to the point where she looks like a dreadlocked Mareep. Of course she doesn't like it, why would she? But it's not his problem. She was the one who wanted a sign of activity.
But she's right. It's been days, even weeks and nothing has happened out of the usual regime. He hasn't done anything either, only what is required to continue existing. It didn't use to be like that. He turns his head to see her stomping off to the bathroom before the door slams shut and water begins to run. If she's mad at him it'll be a while until she comes out.
He turns his head back at the tv where the reporter is wrapping up his day. Happy little motherfucker, he is. Sitting around on his chair and telling everyone what's happening. As if the knowledge wouldn't spread by other means before the broadcast even airs. They're really falling behind the times.
Is that what's happening to him as well?
The bathroom door is still shut but the water has stopped. An hour goes by before it finally opens again and she steps out, face still muddled with disapproval and a hint of disappointment. He hasn't been paying attention to what followed the news but she seems content enough to sit and watch. He glances over and sees explosions and gunfire. Ah. The streetlamps are already on outside as he hears her sigh. Looking over and not seeing a reaction, he makes a decision.
'Ey kid.'
There's no sympathy to his call as the steady noise from the tv whisks it away. He tries again but the effect is the same. Feeling a twinge of frustration, he grabs the pillow under his head. It hits her more precisely than he would've thought. A yell is returned with the counterattack, and he feels the soft projectile sink against his face. At least he has her attention. He chucks the pillow aside and smiles.
'Qili, wanna go and get Galettes?'
She keeps her eyes on his, still not impressed. But he's not finished.
'I'll teach you how to chuck a cop in the face with one and not get caught.'
He stands up as her face lights up into a smile he's never seen before. As they leave the apartment, they both know they're not going to fall into the pattern anymore.
