THE DOOR
A Balan Wonderworld Fanfic
An exploration in vulnerability, breaking the rules, and letting yourself feel, if only for a short while.
Chapter 2: Arrival
Balan takes his first steps into a new world…the world of the humans.
Rated T for mild language, suggestive content, and thematic elements.
Post-BWW, a possible continuation of the novelization.
OCs belong to me, everything else belongs to Square Enix, Arzest, Balan Company, or some combination of all three.
Also available on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69297001
What greeted him next was complete darkness.
Balan blinked as his eyes adjusted from the bright light of the portal. Through spots and blurs his vision began to slowly filter in, but more than that, the sudden sensation of heavy fabric on either side of him registered before anything else. Ensconced between what felt like thick coats. A vaguely dusty smell all around him. A tangle of…something, he wasn’t quite sure what, at his feet.
A creeping sense of embarrassment settled in as it dawned on him.
This was definitely a closet.
Oh, if that portal had sent him into a storeroom or a crawlspace somewhere in the Balan Theatre, how foolish would that be! And quite anti-climactic too. So much for an adventure into another world… Balan gritted his teeth and hissed in disappointment, but then his eyes adjusted further to his surroundings, and curiosity re-emerged.
A faint light first caught his attention, and he turned around to face the direction he’d come from. There, glowing quietly against the wall, was a dim patch of light. Almost like the beam of a flashlight. This must be the remnant of the portal! Thankfully it hadn’t vanished, so if he really had been transported somewhere else entirely, there was a way out of this place no matter what. Balan reached a hand out and breathed a sigh of relief as he felt himself phase through the wall, indicating that the portal, though weakly lit now, was still active.
In that dim, dim light he could see boxes stacked to one side, bearing handwriting he didn’t recognize. A strange device with a long hose and a wound-up cord, foreign to his homeland but certainly familiar to the humans. They called it a…a vacuum cleaner. Yes! Balan smiled happily. This was not one of his storerooms after all, thank goodness! He was somewhere else, likely far away from home, in the world of the humans.
Now, where exactly in the world of the humans was he? And Laura…was she nearby, somewhere? Was this a closet of hers? Was this her home…?
Balan fumbled forward, figuring there must be a doorway out of this space, and sure enough, his hand grazed what felt like a doorknob. He stopped himself just in time, however, to consider a few things—a matter of good manners, in fact.
Humans generally enjoyed surprises, but only if the surprises were pleasant, and maybe even eagerly anticipated or prefaced with a playful bit of teasing and foreshadowing. But he was fairly certain that no human would appreciate the surprise of a strangely-garbed otherworldly fellow of great height barging out of their closet as an uninvited—and maybe even unwelcome—intruder. The thought of frightening whoever was on the other side of this door was not a happy one at all, whether that someone was Laura or someone else altogether. He was no villain, in any circumstance, and this one would be no different!
Balan drew in a deep breath and decided that a little extra caution never hurt anyone. He stood very still and listened for any sign of life or activity beyond the door. Voices, rustling, moving about, anything at all. But only silence reached him. A good sign, perhaps. He then lightly, so very lightly, tapped against the door, a polite little knock, one that certainly wouldn’t startle or intimidate. Still silence.
He felt safe enough to go further. “Hello?” he called in a gentle whisper. “Hello, is someone there? I’m not an intruder, nor a pest—perhaps a friend, perhaps a guest…” His voice trailed off as he waited.
Silence persisted, the hum of emptiness indicating that there was no one there to greet him, or kick him out. Balan breathed another sigh of relief and reached eagerly for the doorknob once again. Time to exit this hiding place and see what lay beyond!
Slowly, quietly, he turned the knob and emerged onto the other side. Daylight greeted his eyes, and he blinked again after so much darkness. The Maestro looked about, and realized that no, he definitely was not in Wonderworld anymore. But…oh, this was a world of wonders all unto itself, in its cheerfully mundane sort of way.
It was an apartment—small, open-plan, a living space blending into a small kitchen, and beyond that into a dining area. A faucet dripped, a clock ticked somewhere, and a low electric hum buzzed somewhere else. Low-profile furniture arranged neatly, everything square and tidy and in its place, but still homey, comfortable, and lived-in.
In the mid-afternoon sunlight everything looked calm and peaceful and ordinary enough, but Balan still felt a tingle of excitement and apprehension in his chest. And in this moment he smirked to himself, realizing that this might very well be the sensation the humans felt when venturing into his world for the first time. How rare, that he was a nervous and curious guest in someone else’s space!
He took a cautious step forward to explore further, and as his heeled boot clacked against the floorboards, a rustling noise sounded from someplace nearby. A soft jingle, as from a small bell, and suddenly another creature made itself known. The Maestro yelped in surprise as a cat sprang up from behind the sofa in the sitting area, leaping onto the back cushion and fixing its sharp, yellow eyes on him. From its brooding, questioning glare, Balan could gather that this creature was displeased by his intrusion, and was likely moments away from either chasing him back through the portal…or ripping its claws across his face. Think, quickly!
His mind jumped back to his excursion with Laura, back in Wonderworld, recalling details from their conversations. He remembered that she’d spoken of her living situation—how did she describe it? I’m just that single gal, working hard, living in the city, surrounded by house plants and cat toys. There was melancholy in her voice, but she laughed anyway. This might be the cat she’d mentioned…now, what was its name again…?
Balan averted his gaze slightly, looking at the cat out of the corner of his eye, praying it wouldn’t mistake this for a challenge. In Wonderworld, if you gazed at something long enough with the intention of wanting to understand it better, you could determine its name and purpose. Perhaps that strategy would work here too? He noted its short, white fur, speckled with black spots, looking very much like the piebald patterning on that creature that humans called a cow…ah!
The Maestro smiled gently, then deferred, stepping backwards into a graceful bow. Time for the charm offensive. “Forgive me for startling you so! I’m really not from around here, you know. Your mistress spoke of you once before, and now your guidance I must implore. So that I may become better acquainted with this place, and with you, I must ask—would your name happen to be…Moo?”
The cat’s expression shifted, its glower fading as it beheld its strange guest with what looked like newfound respect. It seemed to understand him perfectly. And it appeared that he’d remembered correctly, as the creature let out a satisfied meow at his guess.
Balan smiled, relieved, and remembered more of Laura’s words. Just me and Moo. She’s good company though, couldn’t ask for a better roommate. He continued his entreaty, and Moo watched him carefully, cocking her head as if taking in every word.
“Then I’m correct, perfect! Now Moo, I must confess, I don’t know much about this world. I’ve come a great distance, along a new path that unfurled. Until your mistress returns, I must rely on your direction and rapport. And…as I’m eager to learn about this strange new place…I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind…giving me a tour?”
Moo flicked her tail as though considering his request, and after a moment’s contemplation jumped down off the sofa towards him. She circled her guest, claiming him as her charge, then walked a brief way to the left, towards the entrance to the apartment.
Balan marveled, following her at once. “Naturally, a good tour would start at the front door! What a thorough guide I’ve…” His voice trailed off as he noticed a mirror hanging on the wall, over a narrow table, right next to the door. And more specifically, he noticed his reflection in it.
Now, while certainly a confident and self-assured creature, Balan was not vain by nature, and didn’t spend any unreasonable length of time admiring himself in the mirror. And this face in particular, while he thought it handsome in its own way, would fill him with a strange uneasiness if he looked at it for too long. Being reminded of his weakness and vulnerability, especially in the wake of Lance’s recent admonitions, wasn’t exactly a welcome exercise. But now, curiosity gripped him, and he figured it would be reasonable to examine his appearance, just to make sure nothing strange had happened to it during his transition into the world of the humans. Of course, of course.
Balan met his eyes in the mirror and gasped softly.
His pale face peered back at him, but it seemed a little less stark than he remembered it. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was softer somehow, more subtle and delicate. It resembled less the look of a painted pierrot, and more the look of an alabaster skin tone. His green hair framed his face in its usual wispy fringe, but it too seemed less intense and vibrant than before. His eyes still glistened a lovely amber color, but the dramatic makeup around them was reduced, and he peered at himself through thick lashes that gave him a soft, dreamy gaze. And his build had shifted ever so slightly as well, so while he still appeared slender, he was less wiry and exaggerated. The brilliant luster and magical aura of his Wonderworld appearance had definitely diminished with his passage into this world. He seemed, for lack of a better word, more…
“Human…?”
A low, slightly impatient meow sounded from behind him, and he turned to see Moo regarding him with feline annoyance. The tour had hardly begun and he’d already abandoned his guide, how shameful! He awkwardly stumbled away from the mirror—there’d be time to worry about these changes later on.
Moo quietly padded past a dark wooden bookcase that framed nearly the entire south wall of the apartment. A collection of large ferns sat on top, their fronds sprouting in all directions, and the shelves were healthily stacked with books, keepsakes, and dozens of those discs that humans would watch movies on. Balan snickered to himself as he recalled a guest once mentioning that she’d seen something on Bluray, and he’d mistaken it for a New Age term and thought she was talking about re-aligning her chakras. That had gotten quite the laugh! Followed by a lengthy explanation that he, admittedly, didn’t fully understand. Human technology was still an area of confoundment for him sometimes, a magic unto itself that he couldn’t quite grasp.
But books he understood very well, and Laura had quite a collection—art, psychology, drama, mystery, romance. A particularly saucy title caught his eye and he quickly glanced away, pretending he hadn’t noticed. As he continued reading the spines he nearly bumped into the next item of curiosity, right there in his path…
An easel, set with a small canvas, had been erected there, facing one of the windows. A painting was in progress, a still-life of the small assortment of colorful succulents sunning themselves on the window seat. It seemed Laura had wasted no time in taking the advice she’d learned in Wonderworld. Balan smiled, satisfied, and admired her work. The plants on the canvas were a little lopsided compared to the ones on the window seat, but she’d captured their colors just right.
“A very good start,” he mused, then glanced down at Moo, who seemed to be appraising the piece herself. “Your mistress is making a confident return to art! I’m so glad she’s taking my advice into consideration. Before too long, this whole space will surely be filled with her creations—huh?”
Moo had darted away from him suddenly, leaping again over the backrest of the couch. Balan maneuvered quickly around the other side to find the feline sitting on the coffee table, on top of a moleskin book he hadn’t noticed earlier. Moo met his confused gaze and primly stepped off the book, then watched him expectantly, as if prompting him to pick it up.
Oh…he had a feeling he knew what this was. The artist’s sketchbook. His fingers twitched as he considered the option before him. Surely he mustn’t, he couldn’t…oh, what would be the harm in a little peek? After all, Moo was inviting him, and she would not betray her mistress’ secrets so readily if there was embarrassment to be had, right? He quickly snapped it open before he could change his mind.
The book was fresh, but the entire first spread was already taken up…by…
Balan’s eyes widened, and he sank onto the couch, staring in astonishment. Moo hopped onto the seat beside him, looking up at him rather than down at the book, amusedly taking in his expression as he gaped at the open pages.
These were drawings…of him.
As if he needed any further convincing that Laura had retained all of her memories of her time in Wonderworld, here were two ink sketches of himself, each of his appearances on the two facing pages. Hatted, revealed, surrounded by scratchy cursive handwritten notes. Underscores, question marks, comparisons, observations, almost as if she were studying him, trying to figure him out and understand him further. As he deciphered each note he felt his smile growing wider and wider, and soon he was laughing out loud at the delightful absurdity of it all. Imagine, being so thoroughly analyzed by one of his own guests! From one kind of therapist to another, as it were! The last line, written across the bottom of the spread, and underlined for particular emphasis, he gleefully read aloud:
“Intriguing duality!!”
He wiped away the tears that were gathering from his laughing fit, and he turned to Moo, who looked pleased by his reaction. “She really remembered it all, didn’t she? And what a treat, to know she thinks so well of me! Why, how often do these sorts of memories remain? To be recalled, so fondly, as though…” His voice trailed off, leaving the rhyme unfinished, as he pondered the idea of being thought upon outside of Wonderworld. What a rare and wonderful thing, to be not only remembered but immortalized, so to speak, in such a careful and detailed way. He felt something stir deep inside of him, a lovely emotion, something sentimental and new, and he ran a hand over the sketchbook in his lap, smiling softly over the images. His vision blurred as new tears formed, but he rubbed them away, laughing again, more gently this time. No sense in getting too lost in his emotions…not right now, anyway.
Balan glanced around at his surroundings—having been so engrossed in the sketchbook’s revelations, he hadn’t really taken much note of anything nearby. But now he found himself ensconced in a cozy living area. The sofa, a neutral-colored L-shaped sectional, was piled high with a collection of pillows in many shades of earthy greens and browns. To his right, an accompanying armchair, printed with a lovely leaf pattern. Beneath his feet, covering the dark hardwood floors, an area rug, made of patches of verdant shades that suggested a carpet of moss. Across from him, another collection of ferns on the credenza, in front of an accent wall painted a deep forest green. He raised an eyebrow in amusement as it dawned on him…
“She really likes green.” He ran a hand through his own verdant locks and grinned. Perhaps he would fit in here after all.
A sharp meow startled him back to attention, as Moo had decided to move on without him, into the kitchen. He went to catch up with her, not that he had far to travel, and maneuvered around the island counter that divided the living area from the kitchen area. Granite countertops, a playful pattern of hexagonal tiles forming the backsplash, and all the typical appliances and amenities. A small dining area sat off to the right side, a dark wooden table with several chairs. A breakfast plate and mug sat in the dish drain, and the scent of stale coffee still lingered in the air from earlier in the day…
Another scent caught Balan’s attention right away. It wafted to him from a half-open box on the far counter. When he peeked inside, he found a treat waiting—a lone sugar-glazed donut, a chunk already torn from it, but still enough left for a satisfying snack.
Oh, temptation. The Maestro had a bit of a sweet tooth, and was inclined to indulge at many an opportunity, but this situation might prove more challenging than usual.
As a creature from a world beyond time and space, outside of the mortal coil, Balan had no true need for food or drink for matters of survival or good health. But such things often brought him great pleasure, and despite his slender appearance, he was quite the culinary connoisseur. Of course, if he wanted something to eat in Wonderworld, he needn’t worry about having to cook, or have something laboriously prepared for him. Balan was an expert in the art of conjuring, creating from thin air and mere whimsy any sort of dish or treat he desired, just like that. Equally simple was the consumption itself, as it required no digestive process, but was instantly metabolized into his form—after first being savored to the utmost, naturally.
But this…
He eyed the donut skeptically, then broke off a small piece and held it up, scrutinizing it.
“Hmmm…forbidden donut…”
This was human food, from a world beyond his own. A thousand thoughts surfaced at once. What might happen to him if he indulged himself now? He’d heard stories and myths about tasting strange food from strange places and becoming trapped or spellbound. Might he be stuck here if he took even one bite? And even if that wasn’t the case, might it make him sick? Would his body absorb it, or reject it…and if so, maybe violently so? Balan grimaced. What an unpleasant thought!
Still…
If he wanted to spend any meaningful amount of time in this world, perhaps it made sense to acclimatize himself, and his body, in particular ways. Little by little. Besides, he’d already made it this far, with no ill effects or discomfort of any kind. Maybe he would be safe…hopefully…
Balan took a deep breath, made a quick wish, and popped the bite into his mouth. It was spongy and a bit stale, but just as sweet as a donut should be. Chewing, chewing, chewing—now the moment of truth. A careful swallow, and a long pause.
Waiting…waiting…waiting…
Balan considered himself. No sick feelings, no pain, nothing awful at all. The bite was absorbed, just as a treat from home would be. A very good sign, but an even better indicator would be…
He bolted back towards the closet door, nearly stepping on Moo’s tail in the process, and thrust his hand past the hanging coats. Yes! The portal remained, and he nearly phased halfway back through it as he bucked into the closet at such high velocity. He hooted with laughter as he caught himself, glad that he would not be trapped, but still eager to stay here awhile longer and not head home right away. With a loud, relieved sigh, Balan slammed the closet door shut again, beaming happily.
And now, reassured that no harm would come to him, he practically leaped back over to the kitchen counter, startling Moo a second time, and stuffed the entire rest of the donut into his mouth, all at once. Oh, it was stale, wasn’t it? He found himself having to chew quite vigorously. A conjured donut would be much better, perfectly fresh every time, decadently drenched with icing and sugar and oozing with jam and cream. But in this moment of pure relief, and a sense of belonging and safety, this crummy leftover tasted better than any donut he’d ever had. He laughed around his messy mouthful and licked the remaining bits of sugar off his gloves.
Moo watched him from the dining area, incredulous at his bizarre behavior, but also looking rather put out from almost being trod upon, and twice in a row at that. Balan caught her gaze, wiped his mouth one last time, and smiled sheepishly, ducking into a quick bow.
“I apologize for being so uncouth, but I’m overwhelmed, to tell the truth! Just think, I’m treading new ground, such amazing discoveries abound! Knowing I can indulge myself here, without penalty or pain…so many wonderful things might be gained…”
The cat merely tilted her head in reply, then padded away towards a dimly lit hallway, indicating that the apartment tour would continue. Balan eagerly followed, until he saw her slip past a particular, half-open door. A corner of a hastily-made bed was visible just beyond it.
Well, speaking of many wonderful things to be gained. This was Laura’s bedroom.
The Maestro froze in place. Now, this would certainly be the line, wouldn’t it? Entering a lady’s bedroom without her knowledge or permission was beyond indiscretion. Bad enough he’d snooped through her sketchbook—
An exasperated meow echoed from beyond the door, in a tone that clearly said, “You’re coming in, aren’t you?” This cat really was shameless, giving away her mistress’ secrets so freely!
Balan sighed, momentarily defeated, and threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug. Well, what’s one more line to cross? But he must be on his absolute best behavior. Don’t let your eyes wander, don’t touch anything, leave nothing of yourself behind. In other words, be a perfect gentleman, as he usually always was. It shouldn’t be too difficult.
He followed Moo’s path past the threshold and looked about carefully. Nothing inappropriate at first. The walls were painted a soft, lovely spring green, not a surprise at all. A window on the far wall, framed with airy white curtains, a low-profile bureau underneath. A long bench with a television set on top, and more ferns. A nightstand stacked with books. A queen-size bed in the center of it all, piled with pillows, lightly swathed in a white, fluffy comforter. This is where Moo had settled herself, curled up, looking quite content. As if she owned the place, the cheeky creature.
Balan chuckled at the sight, almost in relief, and realized he’d been holding his breath the whole time. “Ohhhh, I see,” he mused teasingly, “this is your bedroom, how silly of me.” He looked about, gesturing as he continued. “And this must be your bed, and your bureau, and your desk, and your—your…"
He felt himself sway on his feet, and the next word came out in a nervous croak:
“Lingerie…”
That…didn’t rhyme.
Draped over the back of the desk chair was a scandalously short negligee, in a sultry burgundy red, lined with lace at the hem, a seductive slit up one side. Oh my. In his mind’s eye he suddenly saw Laura dressed in that same barely-there bit of clothing. Definitely more red than green, in that case. And as a flush spread over Balan’s face, he was certain he was more red than anything himself, just then. He remembered how she’d blushed when he teased her, that beautiful pinkish hue suffusing her cheeks. She might blush just as fetchingly wearing something like this, too…
Wait, what?
He shook his head sharply, snapping himself back to reality. He covered his face with both hands, then sneakily peeked through his fingers, but after another moment shielded his face again, embarrassed at his behavior. Put your eyes back in your head, you scoundrel! Step one failed, don’t let your eyes wander. No wait, shut your mind’s eye, too! Or at least look somewhere less provocative, won’t you!
In need of a distraction, Balan turned his attention back to the bureau, where a small collection of framed photographs were displayed. Snapshots of different moments in time. Laura, in a dark academic robe, clutching a diploma and grinning triumphantly, flanked by her parents who looked equally pleased and proud. Group shots of friends clowning around for the camera. Memories of travels and hijinks. It was good to see that she had many wonderful people in her life, despite living here by herself, and that she was living a life that seemed full and joyous, despite her recent obsession with her work.
Balan’s eyes settled on one photo in particular, a group shot, which looked like it had been taken at an amusement park. Laura on the left side, a similar looking woman on the right. A bit older, a bit shorter, a bit heavier, but with the same dark auburn hair, cut into a stylish bob. In the middle, a tall man with reddish blonde hair and glasses, friendly and handsome. And in front of him, the focal point of the group, a little girl, probably no older than seven or eight. Reddish brown hair, bright eyes, a scattering of freckles across her nose. She was positively beaming, as they all were, mugging the camera with enthusiasm. A beautiful, happy family.
The Maestro felt a soft warmth in his chest as he took in their faces, and felt his eyes growing misty, especially as he considered the young girl. What a dear little thing, petite and fairy-like in appearance, a sense of innocent joy in her gaze. Perhaps she was the niece that Laura had mentioned back in Wonderworld. An artist in her own right. How fortunate that they could share that. And… He squinted again at the other woman, which would no doubt be Laura’s sister. Hmmm, there was something about her, something…
In his wondering, Balan found himself sinking backwards to sit down on the bed, but he was immediately met with a low, scowling hiss from behind him, and with a yelp he leapt up. He turned to see Moo glaring at him, flicking her tail in disapproval. He hadn’t sat on her, thankfully, but she was making it clear that her mistress’ bed was—
“Off limits, off limits!” Balan exclaimed, while hastily returning the photo to its place. Step two failed, don’t touch anything, with your hands or your behind. “Oh my, I’ve certainly gone and put my foot in it. Well—” He cleared his throat, shifting into a tone that was far more brusque. “—I suppose that concludes the tour, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll, erm, show myself the door…”
He made a quick beeline for the exit, but then stopped, wanting so badly to turn around and get one last look at that bed, with its fluffy duvet, so inviting and soft. Maybe he’d also sneak one last peek at that negligee, too, and let his imagination play with both images for a moment. An uncharacteristically devilish smirk spread across his face at the thought, but then Moo brushed rather aggressively past his feet, grumbling out a meow that suggested she regretted including this room as part of the tour. He shook his head, feeling foolish. Just what had come over him? Maybe that donut was messing with his head. Human sugar, feh, poison!
Still feeling a bit sheepish, Balan followed Moo back out into the hallway, back towards the living area. It was an awkward way to end the tour (and he certainly was not about to go peeping around the bathroom or closet on the other side of the hallway), but now another question presented itself: what to do now? He hadn’t come all this way from another dimension for a mere apartment tour, he came here for a proper visit with its occupant. But she was nowhere to be seen, and it was unclear when she would be returning… He wouldn’t mind waiting for her—if it were a typical workday, she would likely return in the evening hours, and the light outside was beginning to dim, so it might not be much longer before she came home.
Balan sat down on the sofa and glanced over at the wall clock in the kitchen. About a quarter past four now. Humans were always grumbling to him about their “nine-to-five” work schedules, so if Laura’s job as a therapist were no different she’d likely be getting off work in an hour or so. And she might not have all that far to travel, so she’d be home shortly after that. He didn’t want to run the risk of leaving for awhile and returning later, if perhaps the portal was only going to grant him one trip to this world. And he wasn’t quite sure how synchronized the time of the human world was with the “t’wixt time and space” Wonderworld, so if he left and returned he might not be back for days, or even weeks, and could wind up returning at a very inopportune moment.
So, it looked like he’d be spending the rest of the afternoon here, just to be safe! Not that he minded at all, it was a comfortable place to pass the time, and the time he’d already spent here was quite pleasant. And Moo had been an excellent tour guide, not to mention so patient with him, and—
Wait, where was she?
As if summoned by his very thoughts, the cat sprang up from behind the sofa again, startling Balan almost as much as she had when they’d first met earlier that day. But this time, she didn’t greet him with a suspicious glare. Instead, she held a little toy in her mouth, a stuffed mouse, which she neatly deposited on his lap.
Balan smiled, picking up the toy, which was connected to a bit of string. “My goodness, is this for me?” he teased. Moo blinked at him in reply, which he took as a yes. He knew that in cat language presenting a toy in this manner was a gesture of affection and trust, and perhaps she’d forgiven him his previous blunders. What a good little friend she was. And to repay her kindness, Balan unwound the string, dangling the toy in front of her face in a playful manner, and Moo immediately went to work, clawing and batting at it in friendly combat.
“Good girl, Moo!” Balan cheered, and they continued like this for some time, Moo pouncing and leaping about in a great display of agility, no doubt showing off for her guest, and Balan egging her on the whole time, as though watching a mighty gladiator in a grand spectacle. A sweet little bonding exercise for a maestro and a house pet, only hours into their relationship, but now on their way to being the best of friends, no doubt.
Finally, exhausted from her endeavors, Moo abandoned the toy and stretched a great stretch, and Balan, too, let out a great big yawn in reply. The clock in the kitchen was ticking its way closer to five o’clock, shadows getting longer, sun getting lower in the sky. And now, perhaps a short nap was in order for them both, as they waited for Laura to return home.
Balan arranged some of the many pillows behind him, stretching out on one length of the sectional, politely resting his feet on the sofa’s armrest. Oh, what a nice place for a little wink of sleep. The orange hues of the late afternoon sun bathed the apartment in a warm, cozy light, and with all the shades of green and brown around him, he felt as though he were in a gentle forest somewhere, on the edge of nightfall. On the other length of the sectional, Moo nestled herself down, placing her head right at the edge of the pillow pile where Balan was resting, bumping her forehead against the fabric and purring in a low, deep rumble of contentment.
The Maestro smiled at her tenderly, and reached out to scratch her behind her ears, a gesture she seemed to deeply appreciate. “Good girl, Moo,” he repeated, stroking her affectionately as her purring continued. “What a dear, capable guide this brand new world saw fit to provide. Now, to slumber we both adjourn, as we await your…mistress’…return…”
Another yawn, one last purr, and both maestro and cat were soon asleep.
***
And, some time later, there came the sound of a key unlocking the apartment door.
