Back at my house after school, I was watching as Victory made dinner. Usually on these occasions, I fixed my own meal but he had insisted. He had clearly had a rough day after he had left with such a speed that I was unable to fathom it...much. I was still sitting at the table looking at him when he whirled around and grinned at me.
"Do you like mushrooms? I like putting them in pasta," he said happily and I nodded silently. He appeared to be in a much better mood than I had thought him to be when he had shown up at my door, or rather inside of my apartment making dinner.
In any case, when I came in my door and saw him cooking for me, I sighed. There was honestly no way to keep the man out of my house.
"Do you really think you should be cooking for me? I mean I'm not exactly sure you're supposed to be here at all," I questioned and his tattoos went down as his mouth did.
"Not supposed to be here? I'll have you know that I am wherever I want to be and that includes the inside of your home," He protested placing the pasta in front of me. It did smell delicious and it would be better than what I would have had before he had cooked.
"But what if I didn't want you here?" I retorted eating a bite of the noodles. Closing my eyes as I savored the taste, I could taste an odd combination of mushrooms, tomatoes, pasta, and other flavors that I couldn't place. Practically dragging myself back to the nonfood world, I saw that Victory was smiling at me.
"Why would you not want me here when I can cook such amazing foods?" He interrogated but not unkindly.
"Because it's a violation of privacy! There are some things in this apartment that I don't want you to see!" I exclaimed taking another bite and grinned. This pasta really was fantastic.
"...So can I come in here because I've already seen everything?" He asked and I stared at him from my place. I had just been about to put another forkful of pasta in my mouth but stopped when I heard that. Raising my eyes to his, I looked at him for a long moment. In which, my pasta slid evilly from my fork and back into the sanctuary of the bowl with a squish. Lowering my fork, I glared at him for one awful minute. As I did this, he took a sudden fascination with my tablecloth.
"You've seen everything?" I repeated levelly and he had the sudden appearance of a sheep.
"Well...mostly everything. I didn't exactly go through your dresser drawers and your bathroom closet...I didn't feel like looking at clothes and towels," he mumbled and I suppressed the sigh of relief. He hadn't found the shoebox then.
"I don't want you to look through my things," I scolded and he nodded fervently.
"Never again!" he proclaimed and made a great show of promising me the world as an apology. Not that I wanted the world. I just preferred to have my stuff left alone. Finally as he washed the dishes (yet another task he took upon himself...I felt much like I was being treated to something that might go on forever), I got the courage up to ask why the card was so important.
"The Jack of Hearts, why is it so important, Felix?" I approached the subject cautiously and he sat down with a sigh. I didn't know that scrubbing a pot could be that fast when I saw that the dishes were washing themselves. Not something I needed to see after asking an important question, taking in the knowledge that I would get distracted. I was just about to ask him to show me how it worked when the dishes stopped washing and fell neatly into a pile in the sink.
"I forgot how easily you got distracted," he murmured and I tore my eyes away from the inanimate objects and frowned.
"Got? I wasn't aware that I was dead yet," I replied and he rolled his eyes.
