Sawyer had never been able to sit still. Even as a child, he'd always been into something, and today was no different. After fighting sleep for the better part of the night, he'd finally given up around five thirty that morning and had been zooming around the apartment ever since, leaping from one task to the next. In the wake of the warehouse job, there was no shortage of things to do around the apartment, whether that meant tackling the mess of beer bottles strewn about the living room or wiping away what Sawyer could only guess were leftover lines of cocaine, streaked across the coffee table like bomb residue. It was no secret that Kit wasn’t navigating the aftermath of the warehouse job as well as Sawyer had hoped he would. Truthfully, the mechanic didn’t know that any of them were taking it particularly well, but the powdery trail of evidence that Kit left behind night after night spoke for itself. Sawyer just didn't know how to go about confronting it— or if he even should. His roommate was a grown man, free to do whatever he wanted, but Sawyer knew he'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried.
Forcing the thought aside for now, Sawyer had finished up cleaning a while ago and was now stationed in the kitchen, whipping up his aunt's famous chili recipe. It wasn't even that he wanted chili, or that he knew anyone else who did— it was the simple fact that cooking kept his mind occupied, and less likely to bend back towards that night at the warehouse. He was dicing up a fresh tomato when the sudden knock on the door jarred him, veering his knife off course and directly into his index finger. "Shit," he hissed under his breath as he lifted his hand to inspect the damage. He blew out a breath, thankful it wasn't all that deep— just enough to annoy him. "Comin'!" He called out, swiping a clean rag off the counter to help hold pressure against his finger as he made his way over to the front door. Tugging it open, Sawyer blinked, his mouth falling slightly agape, surprised to find Rowan standing on the other side. "Hey, Ro," he greeted warmly, waving her inside, "Come on in, I got chili on the stove." He started back towards the kitchen, still clutching the rag to his finger, "If you're lookin' for Kit, he ain't here."
