vagabond ; mc

two ;

"All right, Charlotte," Dahlia said, leaning up against the counter. Most of the rush that had hit them this morning had died down. Only a few stragglers remained for a very late brunch. "It's time for me to head out."

"Is it that time already?" Charlotte's eyes widened slightly, her gaze flickering to the clock. But it only confirmed that it was a few minutes past two o'clock. "Oh, well. I'll see you in the morning, then." She pulled Dahlia in for a short hug, and then returned to her customers. Dahlia slipped her apron off, returning it to the back hook after saying goodbye to Don.

She hadn't caught sight of Michael since he had slipped away when he break ended. He hadn't given her a definite answer as to if he would take her up on her offer or not. She wanted him to; she wanted to get to know him. She grabbed her bag from beneath the counter and then was out the door.

But she stopped short, her gaze settling on the back of a messy head of hair. Michael was sat on the curb outside of the diner, his guitar case and backpack sitting beside him.

"Michael?" Dahlia questioned, catching his attention. He turned to look at her over his shoulder before a smile spread across his lips. He grabbed his bags, standing up. "How long have you been out here? You could have waited inside for me."

She felt bad that he waited out here instead of inside in the air conditioning and a comfortable seat. But he just shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not long," he admitted. "I explored a bit before I came back. I was hoping your offer still stands on the couch?" He asked, adjusting the strap of his backpack higher up on his shoulder.

"Of course," Dahlia smiled. "I can show you the apartment now if you want?" She asked, raising her eyebrows in question. Michael nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way. She started walking, Michael falling into step beside her.

"So where did you explore?" She asked. She knew there wasn't much to her town. Main Street was one of the central attractions, other than that, there was the boardwalk. Though it was small, it was a popular hang out during the summer.

"I walked through town for a bit. Stopped by the beach. There's not much here, is there?" He chuckled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She laughed with him and shook her head. "Not really," she admitted. "But I'm sure we can find something to keep you occupied for however long you're here." Michael nodded, coming to an agreement. "How long do you plan on staying?" She asked curiously.

Michael shrugged, squinting into the sun then towards her. "I only usually stay in places a week or two and that's it," he told her. "But if you don't like me staying at your place, just tell me and I'll be out of your hair."

But Dahlia waved her hand through the air. "That's okay," she said. "I'm sure I'll be okay with it."

They had been walking for a little while now. One more block and they'd be at her apartment. "I know," Michael said. "But I just wanted to make sure. I don't want to be a bother."

"Really," Dahlia urged. "It'll be fine." Michael then smiled, but remained quiet for the rest of the walk to her apartment. She could see her apartment building coming up in the distance. It wasn't a huge complex, but there were a couple other apartments on her floor.

"Well," she said. "This is it," she gestured to the building. She pulled the door open, letting Michael walk in first. He grabbed the door, propping it open for her to follow through. "I'm on the third floor. We can take the elevator, but it's prone to breaking down. It's happened once, and I don't want it to happen again."

Dahlia laughed nervously as she pushed the up button for the elevator. She usually took the stairs, but she didn't want to make Michael lug his backpack and guitar all the way up three flights of stairs. They waited a few seconds for the small ding and then the elevator doors were spreading apart.

Dahlia and Michael stepped inside, choosing their floor and then waiting. There were still so many questions that she wanted to ask him, but she'd have to wait. She didn't want to come across as too nosy and scare him away.

The elevator started to rise slowly, small creaking noises accenting their ascension. Dahlia glanced towards the ceiling of the small space they were in, hoping that the elevator wouldn't stall and trap them within. Her hopes were answered when they arrived on the third floor, the doors parting to release them.

"This way," Dahlia said, leading them towards the right. "I'm two doors down if you ever are here when I'm not," she said. She knew she'd probably have to hide her purse and other valuables while Michael was here. She'd just have to do it discreetly. She didn't want to offend him.

She fished her key out of her pocket as they stopped in front of the door. Her room number was printed in gold metallic letters across the white surface. She inserted the key, turning the knob and pushing the door open.

She was lucky enough to be able to afford a one-bedroom apartment that had a separate kitchen and living room with a spacious bathroom. "This is it," she said, gesturing to the apartment. She didn't have too many decorations. The walls were white, a vase of flowers situated on the kitchen table.

A television was centered between two windows on the far wall, and the sofa was positioned across from it. "And I guess this will be your bedroom," she led him to the couch. "Is it okay?" She asked.

Michael rounded the couch, setting down his bags before sitting down on the couch. He sank down into the cushions, his arms spreading out across the length of the back. "It's great," he smiled. "It's better than some of the places I've stayed. It's really nice of you to offer me your couch when you don't even know me."

Dahlia felt a blush burn her cheeks red. "Its no problem," she said. "Anyway, my bedroom is just through there. That's the bathroom," she said, pointing to two separate doors. "You can make yourself feel at home."

Michael nodded. Dahlia watched him for a moment before turning to give him some privacy. She stalked towards her fridge, grabbing a handful of baby carrots and popping one into her mouth. She leaned against the counter, chewing on her snack.

She couldn't help but feel awkward, even inside her own apartment. What would she be doing if he weren't here? She'd probably sit down and watch a little bit of TV before calling one of her friends. But she had lent him her couch. She popped another carrot into her mouth, peeling herself away from the counter.

"Do you mind if I turn the television on?" She asked, rounding the couch. Michael shook his head. He was rooting around in his bag, a few things spewed about on the cushions.

Dahlia grabbed the remote, the screen flashing to life as she turned it on. She didn't want to disturb whatever he was doing, so she took a seat on the floor in front of the sofa, crossing her legs out in front of her.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked, catching her attention. She looked back to him, shaking her head in question. "This is your apartment. If you want to sit on the couch, just tell me and I'll move."

"It's okay," Dahlia insisted. "It's all you have right now, I don't want be rude."

Michael stared at her for a moment before looking back down to his stuff. He shoved some of it back into his backpack before zipping it up and sliding off the sofa. He landed beside her, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"So what are we watching?" He asked, eyestrained on the screen. Dahlia remained silent, but she couldn't help but smile.