"Saint.." I whispered yet again.
I called his name like five times in attempts to wake him so I could let him know I was about to step out for work—and that he should lock his door.
But he was in such a heavy slumber that my words were quite literally falling on deaf ears.
I also didn't wanna touch him, especially when he was sleeping knowing that he wasn't exactly comfortable with physical contact.
Thankfully, his eyes eventually fluttered open, and immediately his eyebrows creased in confusion.
"sorry, I know you're tired—I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out for work, I didn't wanna leave the door unlocked while you're in here sleeping," I explained.
He was silent for a moment and then shifted so he was now in a sitting position on the couch. While he took a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes, I went ahead and began putting on my shoes.
"how you gettin' 'nere?" He then asked, voice hoarse and deep with sleep.
His normal voice was already deep and raspy, I guess due to him barely speaking. So when you add sleep on top of that, he actually sounded kind of scary.
"well I mean—I'm gonna wal—"
Before I could even finish the last word he smacked his lips, "you just don't learn huh?" He stated.
"how else do you expect me to get there without a car Saint?" I questioned back, sighing.
It was barely eight a.m and we were already on the verge of arguing.
"I'll take you." he then spoke, shaking his head.
"no, you're exhausted, and your body isn't getting any better because you aren't giving it the time it needs to rest," I explained.
again, he chose silence while he just stared at me, then he stood up.
I watched as he reached over into a pair of jeans he had thrown to the side of the couch, and then he pulled out what seemed to be a wad of cash.
He counted through it silently to himself, then handed me a couple of articles of the cash.
"what's this?" I asked, looking down at the cash in his hand.
"for a cab." He explained.
"Oh no it's fi—"
"Khalil don't piss me off, just take the fuckin' money and call the cab, not everything has to be a debate." He said sternly.
Without an argument, I tucked my lips and grabbed the money from his hand, mattering a low "thank you."
"you straight," he waved off, "that should be enough to get you there, I'll pick you up when you get off."
"—I have to go to the store anyways, there's barely anything to eat in here, and I gotta start bulking again." He added in explanation.
" thanks." I repeated.
"what time is your shift over?" He then asked.
"Oh yeah, sorry, 3 o'clock." I nodded.
He nodded before again taking a seat on the couch, and shifting back over so he was laying on his back. I took that as his way of ending the conversation, so I then went ahead and called up the cab like he'd instructed.
It arrived not even ten minutes later, allowing me to get to work without the threat to my life.
By the time I arrived, I was able to get it, get my task assigned—and start my work day.
So far, since living in this city, I noticed that the first Monday after a purge weekend was the slowest, people were usually still apprehensive about leaving their houses.
That meant that grocery stores and businesses like it didn't make much money. Honestly, I think in the entirety of the workday, I counted about only five customers.
I'm pretty sure even one of my managers no-showed.
When it was around thirty minutes left in my shift, I began wrapping everything up, though there wasn't much to do because again, there was barely any business.
At Around 2:50 I spotted Saint walk in, and clearly, I wasn't the only one. It seemed like all of my coworkers, as well as other customers immediately scattered, making themselves as scarce as possible.
Upon spotting me he walked over and spoke, "Yo,"
"Hey, just give me like five minutes, I'm gonna head to the back to clock out and everything," I explained.
"you aight—just figured I should get your input on what to buy since you livin' 'nere now too." He mumbled.
I smiled and nodded before quickly making my way to the employee's only area so I could clock out and place my apron in the locker.
When I returned back outside, I searched until I spotted Saint standing leaning against the wall, gazing off into the distance.
"Ready?" I smiled.
He only nodded, as usual, so I went ahead and took charge of everything, grabbing a small cart as we began to walk.
"You know, funny story, I actually can't cook...like I suck at it." I stated randomly, laughing as we walked down a meat aisle.
"me too." He replied simply.
"Wait really, god that can't be good, if we're gonna be roomies—one of us has to learn how to cook." I snickered.
"roomies?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"homeless remember," I nodded, "you destroyed my building," I added with a whisper.
He rolled his eyes at that before speaking, "Don't call it that."
"Well until you put me out, that's what we are, we've got at least a good three weeks before I've saved up enough to move into a new building," I ranted.
"I'm not gon put 'chu out." He waved off.
"—you a cry baby, nobody tryna hear 'allat." He joked.
"what!" I spoke up.
"—you eat pork?" He questioned, changing the subject.
"sometimes." I shrugged, still pouting from his earlier joke.
What did he mean by 'cry baby,' I actually feel like I cry a normal amount given my circumstances.
"not no more," he shook his head.
"hello?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows in question.
"I don't eat that shit, if you want it you gon have to buy it yourself." He added.
Fair enough.
"You got something else specific you want to get?" He asked as he threw a plethora of different meats in the cart.
"Not really—This is....so much," I spoke, looking on at all the meat he placed in the cart.
"bulking." He reminded.
"What does that consist of exactly?" I asked as we began walking again.
"basically, eat a lot and work out a lot." He replied.
"You want to get bigger?" I questioned in disbelief.
"I want to prevent getting smaller." He reiterated.
"Mhm," I nodded in thought.
"What?" He questioned.
"It's just interesting is all." I waved off as we turned onto another aisle.
"How?" He continued.
Well isn't someone talkative today?
"This is the first I've really heard you talk about fitness and stuff, though it's obvious you're really into it—just based on your physique and everything," I explained.
"Oh," he replied, "yeah."
"Can we get a couple of these?" I asked, pointing to the boxes of instant ramen.
He nodded and shrugged, prompting me to grab a few of the items.
"Do you like spicy food?" I then asked.
"sometimes." He answered.
"can't eat shit like that a lot, fucks with my stomach." He added.
"I get that." I nodded.
"You?" He asked.
"I like it, I'm not obsessed like other people—but I do like it," I explained.
We continued on with our short conversation while we shopped, just learning about each other's food habits.
He seemed to be very smart when it came to food, he understood what was fatty, full of protein, inherently bad for you, all of it.
I was surprised honestly, just because he's never talked about it before, but honestly up until recently, he didn't talk about much at all before.
"Oh man, I haven't had good kimchi in so long!" I spoke, looking up at the jar on the top shelf.
"get it .." Saint mumbled, looking on at me with crossed arms.
"you sure—you may not like it, it's an acquired taste." I told him.
"then it'll just be for you." He replied casually.
I smiled and stood on the tips of my toes to reach, only for a hand to touch my chest.
I looked over to spot Saint backing me up with his left hand, while his other one grabbed the jar from the top shelf and handed it to me, chuckling at my struggle.
"thanks," I mumbled, tucking my lips as my cheeks heated in embarrassment.
When we finally finished, we ended up having to get an extra cart, just because Saint wanted to buy so much stuff.
In this economy, two carts full of groceries, I can only imagine how much this was gonna cost—even after my discount.
"Hi Veronica," I greeted politely as Saint and I approached the register.
she looked up from her phone with a smile, but as her eyes darted over to Saint that smile immediately dropped, and her face paled.
I frowned, noticing her visible change in attitude, it was obvious when he walked in how the atmosphere changed, and now seeing how Veronica was acting, it was so clear he made people uncomfortable.
He wasn't like that though, I mean—I understood their sentiments but, like, if you get to know him.
God, that sounds so stupid to say, I just...I don't know...
"I'm sorry it's so much," I told her while Saint began to place a couple of things on the belt.
"O-oh no it's fine," she said immediately.
I gave her a sympathetic smile while I began helping her bag everything.
Once we finally got everything scanned and bagged, Saint walked up to the front of the register to pay.
I swear you could literally see Veronica's hands shaking as she tapped on the screen. I felt so bad for her, conflicted as well because I knew that she wasn't the only one that Saint made feel like this.
Conflicted because I knew I should probably feel like that too, but lately I haven't, even when we've been mad at each other. If anything, I've been more frustrated with him than afraid.
Maybe that was naivety, just a faulty gut feeling, but I couldn't shake it...maybe that made me a bad person.
"y-your total is $435," Veronica mumbled, basically whispering.
"what?" Saint questioned, creasing his eyebrows in confusion due to being unable to hear my coworkers' low tone.
Granted, her tone was only low because she was terrified of him, but still.
"She said it's $435," I spoke up, forcing a friendly smile since Veronica looked like she was on the verge of passing out.
He nodded and handed her the appropriate amount of cash after that.
When the transaction finally and thankfully came to its end we once again got everything gathered in the carts before making our way out of the store and to his truck.
I feel like the worst part of making groceries is the chore it quickly becomes when you've gotta get it in the car, in the house, and then in the correct areas.
Surprisingly enough, having Saint here for the process made it a lot easier, he was able to carry a lot of things at once—which really sped up the process.
Now all that was left was actually getting it put away.
"you can't put that there," I spoke up, watching as he placed a can of diced tomatoes in the left cabinet.
"What?" He questioned.
"Because we already started putting them over here, you can't put the same item in two different places." I frowned.
He straight-faced me then spoke, "you serious?"
"as a heart attack, hand it here." I nodded.
He shook his head but ultimately handed me the can.
It seemed to become a trend of him trying to put things away randomly, and me either speaking up about it before he did it or correcting it after he moved away.
I actually ended up putting away everything in its entirety when he had to step away for a phone call.
Since living here I have to say I've definitely noticed that he doesn't get many calls, or talk to anyone besides me really, however on the off chance he does, he always has to step away to answer it.
And—
"I'll be back," he stated as he made his way from the back, and grabbed his keys from the rack.
And—he always had to leave right after.
"Okay," I nodded.
As usual, an awkward silence fell upon us after that, I wasn't really sure what to say after that, or what I could say that wouldn't cause him to have some weird mood swing.
Eventually I chose silence, and seconds later the door shut behind him.
"now I need you to be quick wit' dis aight—no witnesses, no police, no mess." Saduj repeated.
He wanted me to kill the guard that was with Him, Jermaine, and I back at the apartment building on purge night.
That would mean only three people would even know about the big plan to gas everyone in the building. He, Jermaine, and I.
I've really lost count of how many people Saduj has backstabbed—how many people he's had me kill for him.
It was sad, but in the end, I got paid, so it's okay.
I needed him distracted anyway, cause I haven't forgotten about Jermaine...I still had a lick to get back with him.
When I finally pulled up and got the address he sent me, I looked on in confusion, cause it didn't make much sense.
He had me show up—at a bakery?
That confusion dissipated when I spotted my target walking out of the bakery, flanked by an older woman.
The woman looked like him, so I'm assuming it was so family member.
They even hugged, and I could visibly see him handing her some cash.
By the time they finished their interaction, she sent a kiss to his cheek and then went ahead back inside her bakery.
When he finally began walking alone, I stepped out of my truck and threw my hood on.
He had his hands stuffed in his pockets as he approached his car, and it was exactly that—that allowed me to sneak up behind him and knock him over the head with my gun.
As he fell to the ground and clutched at his head, I held my gun up and aimed it at his temple.
This finally gave him a chance to see my face, but that was fine—I wanted him to, I could grant him the one solace of knowing who his killer was.
His eyes widened, and he looked up in fear, "N-no, I didn't say anything, I-I didn't snitch." He ranted.
I was silent for a bit, just in thought before I spoke, "I believe you."
"T-then why—"
BANG.
BANG.
Two bullets silenced his words and ended his life.
There was a silencer on my gun, so the shots themselves were muted, who ever stumbled upon his body would just have to deal with it.
"There's no way I'm doing this right," I mumbled to myself, staring at the back of the pasta box.
I swear this thing said to simmer for five minutes, yet it's been 10 and it still looks like it did when I first poured the noodles in the water.
My attention was moved when the front door opened, and once again Saint walked in, removing his shoes and placing his jacket on the hanger.
Quickly I observed his face, and nothing seemed to be abnormal, no more cuts, no new bruises, he just wore his regular careless expression.
when he spotted me he raised an eyebrow and spoke, "what chu' doin'?"
"I'm trying, and failing, to figure out how to make this instant pasta." I frowned, holding up the box.
He then walked over and motioned for the box, so I handed it to him.
He took a second to read it, then looked at the stove before shaking his head, "you have the wrong burner on Khalil..."
My mouth dropped as I watch him reach to turn the knob of one burner off, before turning a different one on.
"Y-Your kidding.." I mumbled.
In response, he chuckled a bit and walked off.
Had I not already been both embarrassed and frustrated about cooking, seeing him laugh would've shocked me.
Thirty minutes seemed to pass before he returned to the kitchen, clearly having showered and changed.
I wanted to ask where he went, but I knew that was probably crossing a line... and things were starting to be somewhat fine between us.
As in we haven't argued in a couple of hours.
"I think I'm getting the hang of this," I smiled, stirring the pasta.
"It cooks itself." He spoke, opening the freezer.
"Can you just give me my credit?" I spoke, rolling my eyes.
"No." He shrugged, "—you legit had the wrong burner on."
I stuck my tongue out at him but he simply ignored it as he continued to gather things from the freezer.
"Did you just cook pasta, or were you plannin' on sum' else too?" He asked.
"I hadn't gotten around to it yet, but I was planning on adding a meat." I nodded.
"we can just do chicken then.." he shrugged.
"Got ya!" I nodded, smiling.
Our first meal as besties, this was really a moment.
Honestly, it's my first 'real' mean in a while, I've been living off sandwiches and small microwave dinners since I got here.
I guess I couldn't hide the excitement on my face because Saint addressed it.
"why do you look like that?" He asked.
"Like what?" I questioned, continuing to stir the pasta.
"you know what," he replied, "you red, and you smiling like an idiot."
"I don't know," I spoke, suppressing the urge to laugh.
"weirdo." He joked, unpacking the chicken breasts.
"Pot meet kettle." I teased jokingly
"you think I'm weird?" He asked as he began to place the meat in a bowl.
"I mean, you said it, not me." I shrugged.
"how am I weird then?" He asked.
"How am I weird?" I shot back.
"You just smile for no reason, you over there smiling at the food you cooking..." he explained.
"sorry I'm just finally seeing the joy in life, it's been a month and a half of straight misery for me," I explained.
"mhm." He nodded.
"so why I'm weird then?" He continued to ask.
"Oh, would you look at that, the pastas' done!" I stated, forcing a laugh as I turned off the stove.
" 'Lil." He stated simply.
"what?" I questioned innocently.
"Answer the question." He said in an obvious tone.
"You're weird because I said so, now can you please just start cleaning the chicken so we can finish the food," I whined.
He blinked at me for a moment then spoke, "I'm dropping it because I want to, not because you told me to—'cause you said so' ain't no answer."
I rolled my eyes at that and began to grab the frozen vegetables from the fridge. Thankfully It took us about 45 more minutes of cooking before we actually ended up finishing.
Truthfully I never knew what "bulking" meant before hearing Saint talk about it. Now I know, and I must say, no human should consume that amount of food in one sitting. Like I thought with the amount we had made, we'd definitely have some leftovers—but no, he ate that too.
I also thought he was just being nice with the amount of times he asked me if I wanted more, now I know he was basically warning me that if I didn't eat it, he would.
He seemed visibly exhausted after all of that, so I ended up volunteering to do the dishes—which I was starting to regret with the amount that was piled up. I could already hear Saint's snores from the couch as I scrubbed away at the plates.
I've turned into Molly the Maid, lord.
When I'd finished washing and loading everything into the dishwasher, I released a satisfied breath.
A satisfied breath that was immediately replaced with anxiety when I heard a knock on the door.
Upon hearing it, my eyes darted from the door to Saint who was still asleep on the couch.
There was no way in hell I was opening that door, like zero way.
As quickly and quietly as I could, I tip-toed over to Saint and whispered him awake.
When his eyes slowly opened I pointed to the door, which had just received yet another knock.
Upon hearing that he sat up quickly, immediately reaching down to pull the gun from under the couch. I'm guessing he didn't get a lot of visitors, that's not exactly surprising seeing as who he was and how he was.
I backed up slowly as he approached the door in caution, holding his gun securely at his side as he did so.
When he came to a stop in front of it and looked through the peephole, his face contorted in confusion.
He then turned around and looked at me before speaking, "go to the room—don't come out until I come get you."
I creased my eyebrows in confusion but of course, listened to what he said.
Just as I was out of sight, I heard the door open, and Saint spoke, " Jermaine..."
☯︎ 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 ☯︎