this citrus love || tommyinnit x gender fluid oc

8: roomates and death demons

Vix's pov (yeah, we're back to being basic lolz):

"Moony! Stop attacking me with pillows!"

Laughter has been the constant pass time. The past few days weren't very eventful, mostly me trying to adjust to the new time and getting over jetlag. But hanging out with Luna is always the highlight of the day.

It's only been three full days since I arrived from America, but we've already settled into a routine of watching a movie every night at around 10pm and then Luna will head off to her room while I sleep on the couch.

"Are you sure you don't want to just sleep on the bed? I'm sure there's plenty of room-"

"Luna, we both know that's a lie," I've had to tell her multiple times. "Besides," I always counteract, "we'll only be here for a few weeks. I can handle the couch."

But, back to the present. Us, trying to agree on a movie, but it only resulting in war. This is also part of the nightly routine.

"Never! I want to pick the movie!" she says, chucking another pillow at me as I try to dart out of the way.

Realizing my attempts are futile, I give in and relinquish the privilege of deciding what we're going to watch to Luna.

"Okay. Fine, fine. I give up," I say, handing her the remote.

"Thank you," she replies smugly.

"I'm gonna go let Charlie out while you pick something, 'kay?"

"'Kay, you do that bestie," she replies in a joking tone.

I call for Charlie, who is curled up in his bed in the corner of the kitchen- if you can even call it a kitchen. It's so small and is connected to the equally small living area. But the tiny area feels homey for the time being, although I know I'll probably be near to having claustrophobia by the time we leave this place. It's definitely more than enough space for one person. But two people, plus a dog, and way too many boxes? Hell no.

I take the keys from the table beside the door and attach Charlie to his leash from his collar. He obediently follows me out the now unlocked door and we head down the stairs to outside the apartment building. Or should I say flat? I'm so good at Britishing, aren't I? Can barely tell I'm not a local. Maybe I'll even pop to the shop while I'm out to prove my British lingo is superb. Okay, I'll stop now. If anybody around could read my thoughts, I'm pretty sure I'd get jumped right about now.

Chuckling softly at my thoughts, a flash of fur scurrying around the corner of the building catches my eye. I know it doesn't belong to Charlie, who is currently attempting to eat the grass. Trusting Charlie to be absorbed in the grass for at least a moment longer, I drop the leash and look around the corner.

Two tiny dark eyes peer up at me from the ground, boring into my soul through the dark. The owner of the eyes, a small ginger cat, mews at me cautiously from its spot curled up in one of the many bushes lining the chipped bricks. I nearly melt right then and there. I then crouch down lower to the ground and decide to attempt to get it to come over to me.

"Here, kitty," I coo as I rub my fingers together. The cat slowly stretches into a sitting position and eyes me suspiciously. The appearance of the cat shocks me, but I brush it away. "It's okay, baby. I'm not going to hurt you."

As it takes its first step towards me, my breath hitches. It hobbles over to me and heads straight for my hand, seeking physical comfort and reassurance. It sniffs, hesitantly, before giving in to my outstretched hand. The cat, who I have now noticed is a female, purrs as she rubs her rough fur against my knuckles. I'm assuming she hasn't been properly looked after for some time, if not ever.