Deacon made his way down the cereal isle being oddly picky about what he wanted. He held the phone close to his ear as Jett read him a list of what all they needed. This was one of the few perks of having Jett as a roommate. First, Jett loved to stay organized, keeping the list in order of isles to make things easier on Deacon. Second, he was currently taking culinary art classes and actually knew how to cook and cook well. It amazed Deacon to see how all of these random ingredients were able to create spectacular meals every day. Though more than half the time it was for Jett's homework and it usually didn't get eaten, but Deacon wished it had. Jett had a rather good taste in foods, something not everybody has. Deacon always saw Jett's homework as a waste and would often plead for him to make enough for the two to eat it too.
He hated how the apartment would smell like God was throwing a huge feast with foods from the heavens and he'd never get to have a bite of it. The rest of the apartment occupants could agree with this. The whole building would smell delicious for hours at a time.
Many neighbors would try to befriend Jett, give him favors, gifts, and invited to special occasions just so that they could get some of the food he made. Luckily, Jett seemed to enjoy making experimental dishes and asking the neighbors to be taste testers. And they could never argue.
They'd get excited to see Deacon leave for the store, because it always meant that Jett was busy brainstorming another spectacular dish.
However, today, Jett was as sick as a dog and just wanted more painkilling medicines. Deacon was basically buying the two some snacks that he'd probably eat alone and the meds.
He spent twenty minutes trying to pick out a cereal, and after the twenty fifth minute he decided on frootloops for probably the sixteenth or so time.
Jett was on the phone asking for some soup and aspirin, complaining that the asshole in f26 refused to leave him alone.
Deacon listened patiently to the tired and unhappy Jett as he wandered through the Walmart like a lost dog. He found himself staring down the small beer section and unconsciously made his way over. Another reason why only Deacon would go shopping. Jett was still only nineteen, too young to drink. Deacon happened to be twenty three with a small love for alcoholic beverages. He was particularly fond of the Colorado bulldog. He struggled to remember if they had any vodka and just to be on the safe side he grabbed a bottle, shifting the phone to the other ear.
He listened to the muffled shouts from the douche who lived across from them. Jett shouted a groggy insult or two and the two engaged in a fight through closed doors. He smiled a bit to hear the two argue. He made his way into the home and furnishing isles in search for a new sheet. His had shrunk in the wash and refused to fit the bed like it used to. But he got terribly distracted by blankets and pillows. It took him a great deal of self control he didn't know he had to tear himself from the blankets and pillows. With Jett's birthday coming up, he wanted to buy him a teenage mutant ninja turtle kids blanket as a joke. However, it was still a bit too early yet. He grabbed a sheet and made his way to pay for the items. He hesitated as he passed the crafting isle.
The paints and pencils called to him. He thought longingly of hobby lobby, but today was Sunday and they weren't open. But it didn't hurt to look.
He grinned at the tiny posable art mannequins. He took one from its hanging hook and tossed it into the basket along with a small sketch booklet, stencil paper, black acrylic paint, and a set of twelve by sixteen canvases. Feeling guilty that he was spending a bit much, he rushed from the isle and this time was determined to pay with out any other distractions.
He paid and rushed to the old beat up car he had bought years ago and drove home, putting Jett on speaker so that he wouldn't get pulled over.
The argument between the two had heated, the man was pounding on the door demanding to be let in. Jett mumbled a few cranky things and asked for probably the thirtieth time when Deacon would be returning home.
He parked the car in the small parking spaces allowed for the residents and marched his ass up the stairs, helped out by a neighboring kid who was looking to earn a quick dollar. Since Deacon was in a good mood he rewarded the kid with a ten and sent him on his way.
He pushed past the asshole who lives across from them and slammed the door on his face. This of course earned him a few nasty insults that he couldn't really care for.
Jett was laying on the sitting room floor. He waved his arms in joy upon seeing his roommate. Deacon grinned and tossed him the bottle of pain killers. Jett smiled and struggled to open the bottle. Deacon tossed the groceries in the cupboards, leaving out only a can of chicken noodle soup.
He removed a pot and a cutting bored from the lower cabinets and hunted down some carrots, broccoli, and some frozen peas. He tossed them in the pot along with the soup and waited for it to heat up.
Jett lay passed out on the floor between the couch and the windows. He had buried his head beneath a couch cushion and was now just laying there, suffocating himself with it. Deacon poured the soup into a bowl and took a spoon from the drawer. He spotted Jett and rolled his eyes, removing a sock and chucking it at the other. He sat up and tossed the cushion. He struggled to realize he was again awake but when he did, his first instinct was to go back to sleep. However, Deacon was already in front of him with the soup and not to be rude, Jett ate it happily. Then he crashed in the same spot with the spoon still in his mouth.
And as Jett slept awkwardly on the floor, choking on the spoon and getting caught between the wall and the couch, Deacon sat lazily on the couch and binged an entire season of Bones for the third time.
The sun had become hidden by a thick layer of heavy clouds and an awful chill devoured the room. Jett still lay on the floor however Deacon had gotten up an hour ago to fix the heat and got distracted with his art supplies. The television was still on, it's light being the only light for the sitting room and kitchen. Deacon stared at the canvas for a while before pulling back the living room curtains to see the snow outside falling heavily to the earth below. He loved how the pale light of the TV caught his canvas and painted in only blues for hours until he was satisfied with his work and decided to go to bed as well. He cleaned up his art stuffs and picked up the bowl and the spoon Jett had used, washing them and putting them away. He grabbed Jett's blanket and threw it over him, not wanting to bother sick Jett, he knew better. He turned off the TV and was lost in the darkness. He blindly made his way to his room and flopped down on his bed, glad to let the soft sounds of the night naw at his mind as he fell into the waiting abyss of sleep.
