You Made Me Feel Butterflies
Three
“Scott, what the fuck is this?” Kate’s dark eyes surveyed the messy scene in front of her: dishes piled high waiting for the dishwasher to be emptied, a rank smell coming from the direction of the fridge and Kate didn’t want to venture near the bathroom. “I was only gone for six weeks, how did you survive?”
“By the way, you still owe me rent and utilities money and shit. I ain’t covering this place myself just because you went overseas.”
With a roll of her eyes, Kate shoved her way past the usual book-mess on the floor towards her bedroom, suitcase in tow. Scott was slouched on the couch, typical position, with glasses askew. His bare feet were stained grey and calloused, his arms darker than she’d have expected for June. Then again, the real winter cold hadn’t hit yet; the days were presumably still pleasant enough for running around and playing sports.
“By the way, I had a great time.” Scott grunted his reply, a few dull thuds reaching Kate’s ears; he was heading towards the kitchen, likely to grab a beer and avoid cleaning up.
She swung her suitcase onto her bed, running a hand through her hair at the layer of dust that covered her room. She hadn’t really expected Scott to vacuum in here for her, or open the blinds or windows once in a while to clean out the stale air, but she could dream. The window creaked its distaste at being forced open, and Kate pulled her last weeks’ worth of laundry from her suitcase. By the end of her trip, she’d been running low on money and decided to save it for home.
“Scott, I swear to god the laundry better be spotless.” A bark of a laugh met her words, eliciting a groan from her.
“By the way, Jesse and Lachlan are coming over later tonight.” Scott watched Kate struggle with her clothes, popping the top on his beer.
“Really? Does that mean you want me to leave? The very day I get back?” Sweeping dirty (or clean and now dirtied) clothes onto the floor, Kate started separating hers.
“Only if you don’t want to hang around them.” Scott replied. He’d walked over to lean against the door frame. “Hey, I cleaned those clothes this morning.”
“Well you didn’t put them away.”
Scott stooped to pick up his clothes, dusting them off. “Back not even ten minutes…”
“Whatever, Scott. I’ll see if Maia’s free for dinner.”
“Thanks, babe.”
“Fuck you.”
“By the way, you still owe me rent and utilities money and shit. I ain’t covering this place myself just because you went overseas.”
With a roll of her eyes, Kate shoved her way past the usual book-mess on the floor towards her bedroom, suitcase in tow. Scott was slouched on the couch, typical position, with glasses askew. His bare feet were stained grey and calloused, his arms darker than she’d have expected for June. Then again, the real winter cold hadn’t hit yet; the days were presumably still pleasant enough for running around and playing sports.
“By the way, I had a great time.” Scott grunted his reply, a few dull thuds reaching Kate’s ears; he was heading towards the kitchen, likely to grab a beer and avoid cleaning up.
She swung her suitcase onto her bed, running a hand through her hair at the layer of dust that covered her room. She hadn’t really expected Scott to vacuum in here for her, or open the blinds or windows once in a while to clean out the stale air, but she could dream. The window creaked its distaste at being forced open, and Kate pulled her last weeks’ worth of laundry from her suitcase. By the end of her trip, she’d been running low on money and decided to save it for home.
“Scott, I swear to god the laundry better be spotless.” A bark of a laugh met her words, eliciting a groan from her.
“By the way, Jesse and Lachlan are coming over later tonight.” Scott watched Kate struggle with her clothes, popping the top on his beer.
“Really? Does that mean you want me to leave? The very day I get back?” Sweeping dirty (or clean and now dirtied) clothes onto the floor, Kate started separating hers.
“Only if you don’t want to hang around them.” Scott replied. He’d walked over to lean against the door frame. “Hey, I cleaned those clothes this morning.”
“Well you didn’t put them away.”
Scott stooped to pick up his clothes, dusting them off. “Back not even ten minutes…”
“Whatever, Scott. I’ll see if Maia’s free for dinner.”
“Thanks, babe.”
“Fuck you.”
♠ ♠ ♠
I swear to god I'll keep this running now.