Isolated

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When I heard the door swing open from where I was standing and facing the stove, I internally groaned.  I didn't even need to look.  That's just how common this was.  How sad was that? Didn't even need to look.  Of course, I guess I shouldn't really complain about how often he enters my house not invited; I intruded into his house just as much as he did into mine and it was gradually an accepted habit of us both now.  We came into each others home for food - and if we entered just to have a conversation, then the excuse was it was because of food.

Besides barging in on a regular basis,  I knew it was him because I didn't have too many friends around here that would pop in like this.  And all the time, no less.  I just stared down at my work as I stirred and flipped some of the pieces of chicken.   It bathed under the dim light of the stove as I moved them, and a new tone of sizzle entered the air. Strands of black hair hanging around my vision,I heard the door shut on its own a few moments later as he came in.

I heard his heavy footsteps come in on the vinyl floor of the kitchen.  A small kitchen at that.  It didn't really complement the man now in it.  It was just a little space with a round table big enough for three people at max.  The counter was a U-shape consisting of the fridge, sink, counter top.  The light fixture was just a simple line of bulbs attached to a metal feature hanging from the ceiling.  It managed to light up the whole space if the window above the sink didn't do the job looking out over the front lawn.  Across from the front door and past the space of the kitchen was the living room which was a bit bigger.  But with his footsteps and a presence that called for appreciation of him being here, he made the area feel even smaller.  Especially as he neared where I was standing at the stove. 

I smirked softly though when I heard the patter of my little friend scrambling quickly out from the hall to greet our unwelcome guest and distract him.  I heard his little paws echo his excitement as the sound of him dancing around Jackson made me stifle a chuckle too.  Jackson wasn't one that cared for animals I could tell.  He didn't seem to care for a lot of things or give any attention to what others usually would.  But because Jack calmed down a little with time and didn't bark as much when greeting people, I think he grew a liking to my little buddy.  I knew Jackson was rubbing his fuzzy head and calming him down when he finally spoke up. 

"Chicken again?" Jackson asked in a monotone voice a few feet from me.  He left my dog be and came closer until I could see him just barely from my side vision. With that, I could sense him staring down at the food still cooking.  I didn't take my eyes off it to fully look at him, I was so hungry.  And though it's been a little while, I'm sure you guys recall my obsession of food.  That hasn't changed. I scoffed at his words that deterred me from focusing on the awesome smell.  His words in which I didn't care for in my kitchen, ladies and gents.  Have respect for the food being cooked in other people's kitchen! 

"You dissing my chicken?" I asked, as I flipped the few remaining little rectangular pieces in the pan that still needed cooking.  I finally offered up a glance to him, turning and letting my eyes find his brown ones next to me.  And like always, he was just as professional.  His stance, his facial features, and even his stillness.

The only thing that's changed about him since I first met him was his willingness to open up.  Still a hard, smart, jackass?  Oh yes.  But he at least seems to care even if he doesn't show it.  He always checked up on me and we usually were together when I wasn't at work or busy.  Even though we both say over and over we hate each other, we still hung out enough.  So that did change.  Physically, he looked the same. Even as I looked him over right now, I saw no real difference from the first time I saw him.  His dark brown hair was slicked and combed back like usual as if wet.  His bushy eyebrows, detailed jaw structure... all the same. Dark clothes, even now in the summer time.  He was wearing a worn out black shirt over his protruding strong chest.  But that's probably just because he was always standing straight like there was something shoved deep up his ass. Clad in jeans, I searched his focused eyes and noted his flat lips. Always so serious....