:Drabble: Strange Friends

Chox pulled up the many sleeves of her thick cabled sweater, and just shrugged when about half of them fell back down. Three hands were enough to carry the tea and cakes anyways. Lifting her delicate saucer aloft, the china clinked against itself as it slipped on some stray drops of tea at its base. In a quick movement she was able to steady herself with not a drop spilled and just a stray tousle of hair loosed.

Not bad.

With a quick blow of air, the offending hair smoothed back out of her eyes and, completely set, she strode past the swinging door to the kitchen. Pouring out into the living room, her tangled mass of woolen laden limbs encumbered with edible adornment suddenly paused.

The freezing rain was a constant melodic rattling against the large window of her apartment. That she was prepared for. She knew Silas had no trouble making himself at home, especially when he was so inclined. But the scene to which she spilled into just gave her moment to still.

His fever had risen, and this put him out of sorts. Curled on the windowsill with a deftness not lost in his worn state, curled tightly in a down blanket, he sat. He was nearly passed out, his cheek lightly resting against the cooled glass. Chox caught small glimpses of the gold and azure hues that made up his mismatched gaze through his slitted lashes. He clutched the cooling mug of cocoa tightly with two free hands, and was neither poised to drink it nor to place it on the ledge beside himself.

Chox took a step forwards, heart heavy with emotion. She hadn't noticed, but she’d started to shake. The light rattle of porcelain brought her back from the emotive brink. In a moment to regain her poise, she realized what had thrown her so.

In all her years working with the man, she’d never seen a lick of truth from his face.

And here it was. Be it the rain, ill, or something else.

She saw it.

A genuine emotive look from Silas.

And it simply broke her heart.

Walking over, placing her tea and cake plate on the table by the kitchen door, she lifted the remaining cake plate into her two ‘primary’ hands. She ignored that it was still covered by her woolen knit top, and in doing so she’d shoved the fabric into the frosting.

After another long moment, the rain still pounding away, and Silas perched as if in a trance, Chox took an audible breath and then a step forwards.

Almost right beside him now, the mix of coolness from the windows and warmth radiating from his fevered skin was a bit off-putting, but her mind had been set.

Placing the cake before him on the cushion, his gaze never changed. Not even a flicker.

Wondering if he was completely entranced, Chox opened her mouth and shakily blurted, “I know you said your wife used to love the rain, when she was alive. Were you thinking about her, just now?”

Just the slightest shift in his gaze, almost as if he had intended to blink but had stopped short. Chox took a step back, and pulled in a gasp of air out of alarm.

“I’m so sorry, I-I mean...well what I meant to say was...”

Her voice hushed as his lips parted. It seemed like forever until he spoke, and the only sound besides the rain was her panicked breath.

“You may take your leave.” Silas said, in a dead tone.

With that Chox immediately turned away, willing to remove herself from his presence as fast as she could. Tears were already blurring her vision as she passed the entry to her room, and with all her hands slammed the door. Sliding to the floor, sobbing into furled arms, she sat there and bemoaned her foolish mistake.

Finally, Silas allowed himself to blink. Had he really been that open just now? Rolling a sigh off his shoulders, he reached out to the piece of cake and lifted it with much effort into the air. Adjusting his glasses and fixing his gaze on the piece of cake held before him, he withheld the desire to ‘tut’ out loud.

There were woolen fibers stuck to the frosted outside of it.

But he ate it anyways.