Tezca glared down at the sleeping Justin, who had basically conquered the cheap couch that he had bought at a garage sale. The sleeping priest seemed so calm when he rested, his methodical breathing seemed almost in tune with the soft rock blaring through his earbuds. How the hell he slept with that, the mirror would never understand. Oh well, it gave him something to do other than paperwork.
Okay, sure, it was Justin's house, but he had told Tezca at one point to "make himself at home", if he ever needed it. Tezca reassured himself of this fact as he flipped through the fridge, desperate for some form of refreshment. All he managed to find were rows and rows of sparkling water, all the multicolored aluminum cans mocking him from their position at the top shelf. He shook his head as he thumbed over one of the cans, awash in cursive lettering a flowery description of what the flavor was. What the hell is "oceanic berry" supposed to taste like? He wondered, as he slowly cracked open the can, doing his best not to wake up his friend.
Glaring at the hazy white liquid, he felt as though drinking this was going to be a bad idea, he always got that feeling when he saw stuff like this. It was unnatural, it was a corruption of perfectly good water, an ungodly creation that offended even him. If he wanted water, he was going to drink water; if he wanted something that tasted like fruit, he would drink juice. Still, the crackling of the carbonation that floated to the top of the can made his mouth water, and he figured he could at least try it.
A bad idea.
He stood over the sink hacking out most of the atrocious liquid from his mouth, running tap water into a paper cup to wash his mouth out. He heard footsteps behind him, but it didn't register fully within his mind.
"What's wrong?"
He took another sip of lukewarm tap water before he stood back up. "God, that sparkling water club soda whatever-the-hell stuff you bought is horrible, man. Tastes like nickel that you spritzed a few drops of juice into."
The blond pastor stood across from him over the counter, rubbing his eyelids. Tezca hastily turned around after he finished speaking and quickly put his cocked up mask back on and raised his hands up innocently.
"J-Justin! I thought you were sleeping, I didn't mean to wake ya' up!"
Justin blinked a few times before biting the inside of his lip. "I wasn't sleeping I was just… resting my eyes. What are you doing here, if I may ask…?"
Thankful for his mask concealing his nervous face, he did his best to explain the situation. "You told me you wanted to see me yesterday, and the door was unlocked-"
"Were you watching me sleep?"
The direct and sharp way he asked the question, combined with the blank and serious glare he gave to Tezca worried him. He didn't really know if he was angry or not. The mirror crossed his arms in response.
"No. No! Come on now, you gotta' trust me a little here man." He retorted, thinking of some sentence that could change the subject of the conversation. "So, uh, what did you need me for again?"
Justin seemed lost in thought for a moment, as he cracked his knuckles in an unintentionally threatening way. "Oh, that. Ah, what was it…" He mused, as he grabbed a notepad sitting on the counter and hastily flipped through it. He finally settled on a page near the back.
"Here it is. Lord Death-" He began, pausing to make a cross sign over his chest, "has requested that we pick up a few things."
Tezca smirked under his mask. "Alright, something good! Whose skulls are we gonna' crack in?"
Justin raised an eyebrow, before tossing him the notepad. "Eh? No, I said we were going to pick up things." He restated, throwing the notepad at Tezca. "Like, groceries."
The mirror looked up and down at the sheet of paper and Justin a few times, flabbergasted. "Groceries?! We're Deathscythes, not goddamn mailmen!" He complained.
The priest scowled in a way that made his friend jerk back. "Language! Besides, are we not sworn to serve Him in whatever he may need, may that be related to slaying evil and doing His errands alike?" Justin said, with an airy hint of reverence in his voice.
The other stared at the hastily written note, looking from it to his friend genuflecting for effect. He rubbed the side of his visage in a mockery of how others would rub their temple.
"Uh. Justin?"
"Yes?"
Tezca turned the notepad around in his hand and pointed at it. "Spirit wrote this. I see the guy maybe twice a year and this is exactly the sort of handwriting he has." The writing was messy, disjointed, barely legible for either of them, although Justin was more taken to simply ignoring it than the other. He seemed unaffected by what Tezca was charging.
"Of course! He is very busy, so He must have the Deathscythe write a lot of his letters. Besides, I believe Spirit said they were school supplies for our young lord. So gentle and thoughtful is He!" He continued, with a genuine smile on his face, grabbing his rosary seemingly out of nowhere.
Awkwardly adjusting his blazer, Tezca broke Justin from his religious trance. "Justin?"
"Hm?"
"What would Kid need with a box of condoms and three bottles of vodka?
It took a minute or two for that to settle with the priest, but the question hit Justin harder than he expected. His eye twitched a few times, before he turned around, balled his fists up, and slammed them onto the counter.
"That red-haired hooligan! How dare he abuse the cherished and good natured spirit of myself and our Lord?! Why I oughta'-"
"...What are you looking at?"
Tezca was shocked by the boy for a second time that day, as he quickly picked his head up to see Justin in a heel turn, his anger still visible, but now beset with crimson over his cheeks. The mirror waved his hands across in a feeble attempt to deny blame.
"Nothing! I just noticed, uh, your shorts are cute, erm, your legs look good. You've been working out…?" He sputtered, an audible swallow being the only sound that went through the room after his defense.
The blank stare that he received from Justin was something that he couldn't read, he never could with this kid. He raised a finger to make some point, most surely some charge at Tezca, who decided to take a little initiative. "You know what? I think it's about time for me to uh, go. Got stuff to do… Deathscythe stuff."
He emphasized this point by shimmering out of existence, before appearing out of a moderately sized mirror placed in the corner of the living room. Stepping out of it triumphantly, he slipped the notepad into his pocket and trotted to the door, a bit more than a walk. As he prepared to leave through the door, and hopefully this awful situation behind, he was stopped by a firm hand that was clasped on his coat and his shirt. Turning around, he saw Justin looking up at him with something between a smirk and a frown.
"If you must know, I've been doing cardio for a few weeks. Now, what was that you said about going to get those things for Spirit? Oh, so sweet of you." He mocked, patting Tezca on his mask's head. He tried to muster a response, a weak and muffled "wait!" before he was quickly shuffled out of the room, facing away from Justin.
"I must say, you're so generous Tezca! Truly."
Turning back to face the boy, his head peering through the cracked open door, he gave a weak and jittery thumbs up, thankful that his face was hidden behind his headwear. Justin lay his head against the cedar door, and spoke again, his voice a bit lower and more normal now.
"Later this week, I'll be free, if you want to come over and hang out, or something." He offered, noticing Tezca picking his head back up he raised a finger. "When I'm awake! Do knock, please."
His friend nodded slowly, as the door closed quickly, ending that particularly awkward mess of a conversation. Sweat dripped down his neck, it seeped into his shirt, as he loudly exhaled and began walking down the hallway. The things I do for that kid! Still, it was surprising to him take such a manipulative edge. The normally quiet and reserved Justin wrapping his finger around Tezca. It was only after he exited the building and looked back down at the notepad did he give his first laugh of the day. It was nervous though.
How the hell am I gonna' pay for all this crap?
