The gentle sound of rain was heard coming out from the thin windows. Gil sat up yawning, stretching. The sun was barely shining and the window was covered with raindrops. He looked around the small room. They had no choice but to put him up in the attic. Francis and Mathieu didn't have enough room at their small, tiny house, and Gil didn't want a house of his own for sure, he didn't want to deal with all the paperwork and getting use to Spanish laws fist. Plus, he didn't even have enough money. But he didn't mind, he found the attic nice and cozy in some sort of way.
His bed was just a mattress with comforters and blankets and a quilt on top with a pillow, that was pushed into the corner. There was a window right by it and a bookshelves made up the 'walls'. The floor was more like a loft. They somehow managed to get a whitish, creme colour couch in, which was on the other side of the room, by two bookcases. That was mostly it though. Lots and lots of windows, bookcases, and the bed and couch. There was a small kitchen and bathroom downstairs on the second floor, along with a laptop and a small t.v. Gil's suitcases with his belongings were still right by his makeshift bed. It was Saturday, Mathieu said that they'd pick him up and would go out to eat, maybe walk through town. But it was raining now. He just wanted to stay in here, maybe read a few books.
There were familiar titles, such as The Count of Monte Cristo, The Hunchback of Noter-Dame, Le Miserables, and The Three Musketeers, but that was almost it. He thought he saw Phantom of the Opera before, but he wasn't sure. All the books were classic french literature, and were in french, as he found out after picking up a book, only to be greeted by a jumble of foreign words.
"Screw this, I'll go to that Tony guy's place if they're open." Gil mumbles, getting out of bed.
His hair was sticking up and out, in despret need to be brushed. He was only in boxers and a white shirt, he threw on some jeans and a black hoodie, but the cold still got to him. Maybe it would be warmer downstairs on the second floor. He opened the trap door and tried to steady the ladder that was propped up against the wall. That was the few things about the attic. The limited accessibility and the cold. He makes it down safely somehow and walks around the small three story shop.
The second level was warmer, thankfully, and the fridge was stocked with food. There was lots of cheese, and three bottles of various wines, along with other foods, and spices in the cabinets. There were some boxes of pasta, and a few loaves of bread. Utensils, cups and dishes, a table and a stove, oven, some counter space, and toaster oven. The whole room was rather small, and half of the free space was taken by the ladder. That was something they could fix though.
He walks through the second floor, which was mainly two rooms, the kitchen, then another loft like room, which housed a couch, a coffee table, a laptop, and t.v and the stairs leading down to the shop. There was a rack, holding coats and such. He grabs his black peacock coat, and tried to put it on when he realises that it's harder to button with the hoobie on. He sighs and throws it back on the couch.
"Fuck it." He thinks and walks downstairs, and across the room, by displays of flowers and adds and photographs on the wall. He pushes the small doors apart, to be greeted by rain.
The streets weren't very busy, people in rain coats raced on their bicycles, a few holding umbrellas abouve them, walking down the sidewalk. A few shops were closed, it was midday, but the cafe remained open. Gil sighs, nervously and shoves open the door. The smell of freshly baked goods hit his nose. There wasn't anyone in the cafe surprisingly.
"Si, si, I know... I'll pay you tomorrow, I promise!Si... yeah...oh dios mio senor." Tony walks in, his teeth clenched, his hand dangerously tightening around the black and silver iPhone. He leans on the counter, flashing a smile to Gil, putting up a finger. Gil nods and Tony stands up again, walking in circles.
"Ned, I have a customer... SI, my food is so good people are actually willing to eat it! Adios!" Tony yanks the phone away and cancels the call. He holds his face, muttering spanish words here and there, and at one point maybe even crying.
"Ah, are you okay?" Gil quietly asks. Tony looks up, surprised, forgetting that he was there.
"Si, the landlord is just, getting after me, for paying rent and all." He gives out a low sad chuckle. "For a moment, I forgot that you were there, the next, you were so quiet I thought you were Mathieu."
"Well, I didn't want to say anything, since you were, uh, busy." Gil explains, gesturing to the phone. Tony nods, biting the inside of his check. He stands up suddenly, giving a sigh, and walking over to the back of the cash register.
"Enough about me, why are you so, wet." He points out the fact that Gil was dripping from the rain from outside. Gil shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair, trying to dry himself.
"It's from outside." He explains. Tony walks up behind him and quickly shoos him to the back.
"You'll get sick if you don't change, here, I have some clothes." He gently pushes him through the door. The room was just a kitchen. It was huge, but looked like it belong to a house, like the kitchen at the flower shop. There was a odd metal spiral staircase at the right in the corner, which somewhat stood out of place. We walk up it, it must have made 5 whole complete circles. It led into a landing loft thing, I still have no idea what it was called. There was a couch and a coffee table, a few shelves with photos and such on. A t.v stood on a cabinet like thing. Damn, I'm awful at describing things. The t.v was turned on to a football match, the players and announcers shouting in italian. Romano was spread out on the couch, a magazine laying on his chest.
"Lovi, Gil's here." Tony announces. Romano turns down the volume a bit.
"That's great." He says, the sentence full of sarcasm. Gil frowns. Was he like this with everyone, or did he legit hate him? As if reading his mind, Tony laughs, running his hand through his hair.
"He's always like that, don't take it personally, here, my room is to the left, first door, I have some clothes in the dresser, go ahead and pick something out." He explains, gesturing to the room.
"A-are you sure it's okay, to just pick out anything like that?"Gil asks, uncertainly. Tony laughs and nods, while Romano turns around to look at him.
"Just hurry up before you stain the wood flooring, idiota." Romano hisses and stares back at the t.v. Gil immediately walks over to the room. No, he didn't want to be on Romano's bad side. He couldn't be on anyone's bad side.