The Doommates
slaed:
Slade is not particularly happy to see the overnight bruise progress on Danila’s face. He is not particularly happy to see Danila’s face or the rest of him to begin with. However, he will contain himself while the landlady is around. Who does this asshole think he is? Look at him playing martyr to make himself look better! The disgust on Slade’s face is not-at-all subtle. Well, his patience did not last long. Danila is definitely, completely at fault, but the way he is lying about is just makes Slade’s blood boil. There is just something about his new roommate; he is ridiculously easy to hate. Slade will also conveniently ignore the fact that he has been in foul spirits as of late and thus especially irritable. Before Mrs Higgins turns to leave, her gaze, strange and pensive, travels down and shifts from Slade’s right to his left. Slade fights back an instinctive urge to fold his hands in front of his crotch until he realizes she is checking his knuckles for scrapes or bruises. This makes him feel a little sick (but less uncomfortable than the thought of an old lady checking The Legend out), though yesterday’s beer might be the main culprit. As if I would risk any damage to my hands just to deck this miserable piece of shit! That and he finds physical violence abhorrent — hell, he still feels bad about knocking Gerard out and the fucker deserved every single splinter in his bald head — but this is of secondary concern. Slade mutters a goodbye and heads for the kitchen. He will graciously allow Danila to close the door behind Mrs Higgins and start getting things back in order, or do whatever he decides as long as he stays out of sight. The fridge greets him with an army of beer bottles and nothing else. Slade does not know what happens to the peas his roommate was misusing last night, nor does he care to find out or check the freezer — he cannot imagine wanting anything in there. The prospect of grocery shopping makes him groan out loud, but he has been putting it off for way too long as it is. Slade goes back to his room to put a pair of jeans on and grab his wallet and.. Car keys! Shit! Last he saw them was on a shelf by the corridor mirror. Last he saw the shelf, it had been torn off the wall and lost somewhere among the multiple pairs of boots on the floor. He storms out of his room to begin search and rescue, caring little for whether his efforts got in Danila’s way or not.
Danila followed Mrs. Higgins’ gaze and only then realized how the whole situation might seem to her. If she had seen them interact even for five minutes, the two of them taking it up a notch was a fair concern. He stayed still and silent as she seemed to not-so-subtly check that he wasn’t lying. What a wonderful way to start the day, feeling like being stuck in an X-ray machine. What was it with old ladies and their all-seeing eyes?
Mrs. Higgins seemed to finally be satisfied. Danila hurried to close the door behind her, mumbling a polite goodbye as he did so. Onto the clean-up, then.
The hall looked like a small bomb filled with wood had gone off. It would take the better part of the day to make it look presentable again, especially since Slade clearly wasn't planning on helping. He would have loved to drag Slade back and force him to help, but he didn't have the time or energy for that. Mrs. Higgins expected results for the next day, after all.
Danila did what looked like a silly little dance as he tried to find the least painful way to pick up the remnants of the chair from the floor. The differences were negligible, so he settled for the "do it despite the pain, or risk ending up homeless" method.
Continued from here. @slaed