Summary: Moving in with another person can be a test.
Disclaimer: I don't own the real Blood and Chocolate and I only wrote it because it got stuck in my head.
It was easy enough to live with Gabriel. He was a little flirty and sometimes nothing more than the epitome of bachelorhood, but he tried to make things run smoothly. By now they knew the worst of each other so the only room to grow was up.
The clatter of tools on the floor and the too-loud radio had a way of making her cringe at first, and maybe Viv had to purse her lips when the dishes lined the counter. Or, Goddess forbid he put his glass of water in the sink instead of on the window sill. But, no, she would not let it become a big deal. After all, he did try to cook and who was she to nag about clothes on the floor when her jeans were lying half a foot from the basket?
Oh, but the thing she couldn't stand-Could. Not. Stand. - was his sweaty shirts lying around.
He worked hard, it was bound to make a mark on his clothing. But there was a difference between sweat soaked and night-wear and every time she saw one of those T's on the bedroom floor she wanted to scream.
But she didn't.
She just carefully picked it up and made sure it found its way to the basket where it belonged. Gabriel watched her do this once or twice on his way from bedroom to shower and Vivian very carefully repressed the snarky voice that growled, "Oh, so you can watch me do it but you can't learn to manage on your own?"
No, that voice stayed in her head, and she was glad for it because after a few weeks she realized just how wrong her snarky voice was.
She was sitting comfortably on the bed, sketching her plans for the sun room. Gabriel 's truck made itself known, then there was the clatter of tools, the thunk of a work boot and a delay as its twin was worked off a foot. A pause, then the suctioning bang as the fridge slammed shut. Here she could imagine him deciding he didn't care for her fruit and veggie snacks, running the tap for glass of water. Three gulps and it would clink on the windowsill- inches from the goal only she could see-and then footsteps on the floor and stairs.
Gabriel appeared then at the door and threw her a smile. She twirled her pencil thoughtfully and sighed as he made his way to the bathroom door. She cast an eye his way as his shirt came off, enjoying the pleasant view of tan skin and rippling muscles before he dropped the clothes in the basket and walked into the bathroom, knocking the door shut behind him.
She sighed at the loss and went back to her work before looking again at the shirt he'd dropped.
Basket. Sweaty shirt.
Her heart warmed a little bit at the thought. He had taken a millisecond and a half to toss instead of drop. Goddess, he could be thoughtful.
That in mind, she went back to doodling. And when the door opened twenty minutes later and Gabriel stepped out looking warm and wet, she gave him another friendly smile. He chuckled and grabbed some clothes from the dresser and returned to the bathroom.
He wasn't exactly shy about his body though, and she glanced up to see he hadn't really bothered to close the door again. He opened the cabinet, and she saw his nose wrinkle unhappily.
"Hey, Viv, do you know where my deodorant is?"
"Second shelf, next to my lipstick and the cotton candy perfume."
He hummed with a tiny frown but seemed to find it without struggle. "Thanks, babe."
Five minutes later he was downstairs, feet probably on the coffee table and beer in hand, as the sounds of the game drifted up the stairs.
Hopping off the bed, Viv made her way to the bathroom to look inside the cabinet.
It looked like any other cabinet she'd ever had. Perfume, lipsticks, deodorants, aspirin and Band-Aids, a few eye liners and shadows on the lower shelves. She didn't see why Gabriel would have trouble finding anything.
But then she tilted her head and tried again. This was the cabinet of an only child and a teenage girl. Her things, her system. Gabriel's stuff had been settled in where there was space.
And for the past month or so that they'd been living together he'd just frowned and tried to find a spot for his deodorant.
Viv made a beeline for the closet and dragged out the makeup case that she had once used for art supplies. Taking out the last paints and tortilla rolls, she brought it back and started filling it with eye shadow and lip gloss.
Basket. Sweaty shirt.
Cabinet. Shared space.
Living together wasn't so hard.