December 10th
December 10th
- « Oi ! Get your sorry ass over here ! »
- « What ? Malik, you are alright ? » Altaïr winced at the way he was welcomed home after a hard day at the university and with his kids' class. He was studying both psychology and sport, as he wanted to be an educator. And for the past few years, the young man was volunteering to manage a teen-in-difficulty group through a sport program, to enhance their confidence and team spirit. So, he was quite tired after a really busy day and he only wished for a hot shower and stupid TV show within a calm environment.
Instead, his flatmate seemed to be grumpy and with some reproaches, judging by the sound of Malik's voice.
With a slow pace, Altaïr dragged himself into the small living-room, listing all the reasons why Malik would be mad at him in his head.
- « I am so not fucking alright! You beat all my records! I am now calling for your blood! »
Altaïr blinked a few times, looking at the brunette with stupefaction. Apparently, Malik had spent the all day on the sofa playing video games. He may have changed clothes, but the amount of empty boxes and bottles and food papers around him tended to proved he had.. a lazy day. Quite unusual for him.
- « What are you doing? »
- « Duh, playing Burnout. »
- « No, I mean, why are you playing it? And all day long? »
- « These games are SO addictive. Besides, it is the doc's orders. »
Well, Malik's physician might have stated that a regular exercises besides the normal use of the left hand would help in keeping if not increasing the strength and grip power. And it would be wrong to say that the use of control pad was not a good way to improve the maneuverability and coordination. However, there was something odd here.
- « Did you really spend to all day playing ? »
- « Yeah, most of it. Why? Are you my mom now? »
Malik was concentrating on the screen, his tongue between his teeth and was lining left or right in the same time the car was getting into loops. However, this did not help and the older one was just loosing. No wonder he was grumpy. Malik hated not being able to give his best shot and in general, hated losing. He was not the worst bad loser Altaïr meet, but close enough. Shaun came first, but Shaun was seven.
Furthermore, the younger man knew perfectly this week was a bad time for Malik. Kadar's death anniversary was always bumping him down. It was normal – unless you were a cold-heart bastard, which Malik was not despite his best effort to be a asshole – so Altaïr knew he had to be patient with his best friend.
With a stern, teacher look, Altaïr took the controller and paused the game, making Malik breaking into cursing and whining. Ignoring the all fuss, he grabbed his flatmate's hand and examined it.
- « It is inflamed. You overdid it. Take a rest. … NOW! » He added immediately as Malik opened his mouth. « Why the sudden will to play? Especially before your exam? »
Malik did not answer first, muttering with sulky attitudes words Altaïr chose not to hear. Sometimes, he felt he was living with a brat. Then, the brunette let it go, spreading himself on the sofa, looking at Altaïr who was picking up the trash. How rare. Altaïr hated anything that was chore related, exception made to kitchen related stuff. This proved how much he care for him. Malik felt kind of guilty about his overall behavior.
- « Bah, I needed a break. Besides, I need to get my best moves up for the 24th. »
- « Oh, why? »
- « Lanz invited me over and we will be playing most of the evening. Maybe even have a LAN party. »
- « A LAN, for Christmas? »
- « Hey! You the one ranting about the joy and the sharing. Well, we loved games and we are sharing it over the network. »
- « Malik, you are such a geek. A LAN for Christmas... » Altaïr shook his head with disbelieve and went back to the entry to get his bag.
- « Better a geek than a dork. Who is spending the day and night smooching and cuddling and parenting with Maria. »
- « You're just jealous I got a girl friend. And wrong. We will be volunteering at the Davenport.» Altaïr's voice was tranquil as a lake but he knew his friend had have a jolt of guilt. Malik had turned down his back to the Orphan House since the accident and Altaïr did not like to remind him of it.
Suddenly, something caught is attention.
- « MAAAAALIK! What have you done to my kitchen? What the fuck with all these boxes? »
- « These? There are only three of them... »
- « And what are they doing HERE? »
- « I forget to move them to the living-room. Besides, they are your stuff. »
- « I did not order anything... » Altaïr was perplex but lifted the first box out of his package.
A plastic, seventy centimeters high Christmas tree, coming with a little box of decorations. Last, a pine scented candle. Altaïr could not repress a huge childish grin that did not phase out when Malik started kicking him out the hug he hooped to give him.
- « Let me go, you stupid leech! »
- « Yeah, thank Malik! »
- « Whatever. Just don't put it on my line of sight. »
Altaïr busied himself with setting-up the ornament and Malik went back to loosing. Until a hot cocoa with orange Jaffa cakes appeared into the table next to him.
- « What's that for? »
- « Duh, Santa Claus, maybe. You are an idiot, Malik. Merry Christmas. »
- « … Merry Christmas to you too, Altaïr. »
- « Ok, let's play Mario Kart. »
Altaïr nudged Malik and took place next to him. Evening came and they were still at it, bouncing on the sofa, laughing and cursing, with the all scene lighten up by the soft gloom of their Christmas Tree.