đť”𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔢
"Kill it, Vega. I need it dead."
A nod. Footsteps.
Vega knew the drill. There was a witness. Bison gave him enough information for him to finish the job and sent him off. Normally he was a decorated bodygaurd, only there to intimidate anyone who entered the throne room. Today, he could go outside. He could feel his claw slipping through flesh and blood. He could watch his opponent cower in fear as he, the most beautiful fighter anyone had ever known, prepared for his next kill.
He was also excited and anticipating the fated meeting. And oh, would he enjoy it.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
𝔠𝔥𝔞đť”𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢
He alighted on the windowsill with his usual grace, silently opening the window of his target's apartment. As soon as he had cracked it open, music flooded his ears. It wasn't like the music he had heard in other targets' home, it was…catchy. It had a crooning voice and tones that coaxed its listener to sway along with its upbeat rythm. He quirked an eyebrow at the his target, who was dancing to the beautiful sounds emenating from a record player's flower-shaped bell.
"How d'ya like your eggs in the mornin'?" the small, thin male sang with the record. The singer answered back with "I like-a mine with a kiss…" The boy, who looked about sixteen, was energetically bobbing along to the old-fashioned sounds with a vigorous manner that Vega had rarely seen. The boy began to ballroom dance, swaying with an imaginary partner. He whirled around, the notes he had been prepared to sing dying on his lips as he took in what he was seeing. To Vega, the look of surprise was delectable. He smiled under his mask. The boy couldn't see it, of course, but that didn't matter. The boy smiled, then, a witch-like cackle burbling from his throat.
"Took you a while, didn't it?" the tiny frame giggled. "I knew they would send someone, but I thought you'd come sooner…" The boy tucked a loose strand of hair away from his face. "I saw you there, I think. I recognized the tattoo…" The boy's gaze flickered over the rippling muscles of Vega's chest. "Where did you get that, I wonder…?"
Now it was Vega's turn to be surprised. He hesitated, waiting to see what the small one would do next. The petite wonder shrugged and looked him in the eyes, smiling.
"Well, let's be friends before you kill me, then. I'd hate to become a ghost and not know who I would be haunting."
He picked up a set of knitting needles and a basket of yarn, making himself comfortable atop a small, cosy-looking bed. The small fingers began casting on, moving at such a breakneck pace that Vega could barely tell what was happening. The boy looked up at him, still knitting, and snickered. He scooched over and patted the spot next to him.
"Come now, don't be shy. I won't bite, I promise." Vega sat down, careful not to bump into the little guy. The boy made a clucking sound, ticking back his stitches to fix a mistake.
"Oh," he said, looking again at the enourmous form beside him, "I forgot all about introductions! I'm such a ninny sometimes…" He made a small bob of the head, somewhat akin to a bow or curtsey.
"I'm Sage, what's your name?"
Vega avoided the question by taking off his claw. It took a minute, as there were several types of fastenings there to keep the thing in place. He glanced at the small form beside him, smiling slightly as the boy gave him a wide-eyed look, his needles still clicking to their manic rythm. Vega rubbed the back of his hand, feeling the muscles relax. The claw was a bit heavy, so he made sure to do small hand exercises. The stretching helped a lot, even if he was mostly used to such soreness by now. He set the claw on his lap, making sure that the razor-sharp tips were directed away from Sage.
A strand of hair made its way into his eye just then, and he made a noise of annoyance at it. He brushed it back across his head, looking at Sage all the while. The silence had become awkward, and he enjoyed the company of the odd little being. It had been quite some time since he had talked to someone at leisure like this, even if he was a nobleman by day. He resolved that he would rather spend some time with Sage, even if he would have to die tonight.
"Well? Shall you tarry all night, or will you speak? I'm quite curious as to what your voice might sound like, as well as what name might accompany someone such as you," Sage said. He looked down at his knitting, scrunching his nose in concentration.
"Is that a particularly difficult bit of handiwork, or are you suppressing annoyance at myself?" Vega asked.
Sage looked up, grinning. "I knew you had a lovely voice in there somewhere! You move too gracefully to be just some assasin," he said, tilting his head to the side. "Oh, and this bit has some complicated shaping-my apologies for not answering you first."
Vega laughed, a real, genuine laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this, as he hadn't had much to laugh at in a terribly long time. He smiled then, a true smile, a smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners. Sage smiled too, but then turned serious. He stared at where the rest of Vega's features were, hiding under a smooth, white mask. Vega felt a sudden regret, a guilt at Sage's smile faltering, even for a second. He suddenly realized that Sage was…..beautiful. It was not a perfect sort of beautiful, as he thought of himself as, but it was still beauty. A raw, imperfect beauty.
"I am known as Vega….I do hope that I haven't unnnerved you. What might be wrong, dove?" Vega said, concerned at both the lack of Sage's happiness and his impulsive use of a pet name.
"Oh, I'm fine, thank you though," Sage replied, looking down at his knitting again. His fingers flew effortlessly over the needles, and he bit his lip in concentration. His brow was furrowed as he excecuted the difficult shaping techniques. He looked up again, and Vega could see that he was deep in thought.
"Are you sure you're all right? You look…forgive me if I'm being inaccurate, but you look disraught," Vega said. He looked down at the growing number of stitches that fell like a waterfall from Sage's needles.
"I was just wondering….why do you wear the mask?" Sage asked, abruptly, looking almost scared of what the answer would be.
Vega was stunned. No one had ever really wanted to know why…He reached behind his hair, slowly, and began unfastening the mask. His heart was beating wildly as he felt the buckle loosen. He let out a shuddering breath and lifted it from his face.
Sage's needles dropped from his fingers, and his eyes widened. "You're….." he whispered, "you're so…" he licked his lips. He chuckled, picking up the needles with shaking hands. "Do me a favor?" he asked, unwilling to look at Vega's eyes.
"Anything."
"Kill me. I can't….why are you so…." he looked frustrated, as if he couldn't find the words.
Vega felt a sudden anger, a rupulsion. He could not let Sage die. Not now, not ever. "Anything-absolutley anything but that, dove."
Sage looked up, confused. "Why? Weren't you sent to kill me? Isn't that why you're here?"
Vega felt….something. He couldn't quite place it, because he'd never felt it before. It was warm, and agonizing, and made his palms sweaty and his mind foggy. His stomach was….fluttering? He felt sick and happy and-
"Vega?"
He looked at Sage, swallowing hard. "I…I cannot kill you. Please, don't ever ask me of that again."
"What shall happen to me, then? If you were sent to kill me, then there must've been a reason…" His eyes were pleading, though Vega didn't know what the look meant.
Vega got up and began to pace. He didn't know he was doing it, really, he just needed to do something. He had to think….had to find a way…Sage had to be safe. He thought, suddenly, of his hideaway. He had rented an apartment away from both Shadowlaw and his palace. He had needed a quiet place away from both worlds, an inbetween of sorts.
Vega laughed, knowing that fate had given him a way out. Fate had brought him the one thing he had thought himself incapable of, and had also conveniently given him a place to keep his little dove, a place where Sage would never come to harm, where he would be safe.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
𝔠𝔥𝔞đť”𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔬
Sage made a noise of frustration. "I really don't see the point in all this," he whispered. "Where are we going?"
Vega stared ahead at the empty street. He was sweating a bit, as it was a warm night and Sage was firmly clinging onto his back. Vega had insisted that he perch there, that way they could arrive at their destination quickly and quietly. Sage had protested, but he finally agreed to accompany Vega to wherever they were going as long as he could pack a knapsack for the journey.
"Please, you've been extremely secretive about all this, and I'm getting a little worried…."
"Dove, I promise you that everything will be all right," Vega said, exasperated. He navigated his way through the quietest places, eventually making his way to the balcony he was looking for. He heard a gentle snore, and realized that Sage had fallen asleep on the way over. It must be late…or, rather, quite early, he thought, looking at where the moon sat in the sky. He climbed his way up the ivy wrapped around the building, looking around to make sure no one was watching. He heaved himself atop the balcony and pulled open the sliding door to the apartment itself.
The apartment was small, but it was clean and cozy. Vega very carefully detached Sage from his back and carried him over to the soft bed. The knapsack found its way to a chair in the corner, and Vega slipped on a roomy white blouse. He stowed away his claw, mask, and sash in a chest of drawers adorned with intricate carvings and finally fell asleep in a rocking chair, his head leaning back on the curved top.
Vega woke up with a start. Sage had started crying in his sleep, mumbling words that couldn't be made out. Vega was there in an instant, trying to gently wake Sage. "Sage….Sage, dove….." he said, soothingly, though he wasn't sure, really, what to do in this situation. Sage woke with a start, clutching Vega's sleeve. "The blood…." he said, tears streaming down his face. There was a look of pure terror in his eyes, and he was shaking uncontrollably. "So much blood…pools of it….puddle after puddle after puddle of scarlet…" He looked around, confused, as he began to realize that whatever he had seen wasn't real. He looked back at Vega, and loosened his grip on his sleeve.
"Are you all right?" Vega asked, brushing a lock of hair out of Sage's eyes. Sage nodded, saying, "I do hope I didn't scare you…I haven't had nightmares like that in a long time." Vega shook his head. "You mustn't be sorry for things you cannot control." Sage rubbed his eyes, looking around. "Where are we?" he asked, sitting up. Vega smiled and pushed Sage's bangs back from his face and let his hand rest on Sage's soft cheek. He traced his thumb back and forth as Sage leaned in to the gesture. "You need to sleep," Vega whispered. Sage pouted as he laid back down, but the look vanished as Vega tucked him in and laid a soft kiss on his forehead. "Sleep sweet, dove," he whispered, making his way back to the rocking chair.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
𝔠𝔥𝔞đť”𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢
The sun shining through the curtains was just enough to wake Sage up. His eyes fluttered open, and he grunted in annoyance. "Stupid sun," he said, stretching. He slowly made his way out of bed, rubbing his eyes. "Vega….." he called. There was no answer. "Vega?" He shuffled around the apartment, looking for the rouge in vain. He finally discovered the note that was taped to the mirror over the chest of drawers. Sage took a minute staring at Vega's handwriting. It was a beautiful, spidery script, with oodles of unnessasary loops and flourishes. It finally hit him that he should probably be reading the note itself instead of admiring the letters, and the note read as thus:
My darling Sage,
Unfortunately, I must report to the Shadowlaw today. I hope you won't get into too much mischief whilst I'm away. You're welcome to anything in the larder if you get hungry, and the television remote is in the second drawer of the dresser you found this note upon. I believe that there is a radio around here somewhere, though I can't quite remember where it might be hiding. I told the landlady that you're a friend who is moving in with me, so remember that if she asks any questions. Please don't leave the apartment complex, though, I don't want you hurt or lost.
-Vega
Sage blew a frustrated raspberry. "Oh, sure, first day after you KIDNAP ME and you just up and LEAVE." He shook a fist at the window. "You're infurating, do you know that?!" he said to the ceiling. He huffed and grumbled a little more, and then realized just how hungry he was. He shuffled halfheartedly to the fridge, pulling it open with a grunt. It was an older model and thus harder to open. Sage rummaged around a little and found a box of apple juice. "Huh," Sage remarked, "I'm going to ask him about that later…." He dug around some more, sipping at the juice, and eventually pulled out a package of bacon and some eggs. He grinned and placed the food on the kitchenette, digging out some butter and scouring the pantry cabinet for salt and pepper. He rummaged around for a frying pan and a spatula, and swiftly got to work.
He warmed up the pan first, then slid a generous pat of butter across the surface. He cracked the eggs and seasoned them, humming to himself and taking care not to pop the sunny yellow yolks. The aroma of the crackling eggs and bacon wafted throughout the apartment, perfuming the air with their scrumptious scent. Soon enough, he had plated up his breakfast and sat down to eat. He did a little happy dance as he ate, as he hadn't eaten a breakfast this satisfying in a while. He finished up his meal, then took a minute to look for some dish soap so that he could clean up. While looking around, he happened to stumble upon the elusive radio, so he tuned it and continued to wash the dishes. He sang along to a couple of the songs, as the station was playing a series of his favourite oldies and there were a few he liked well enough to take the time and learn the lyrics.
A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Sage jumped at the noise. He wiped his hands on his jeans and hesitantly opened the door. Standing there was a plump, middle-aged woman with bright red lipstick. She had honey-coloured blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. "Oh, hi, honey!" she gushed, smiling warmly. "I just came up to meet you, sweetheart, your friend said he had you move in with him." Sage blinked. "Might you be the landlady he wro-told me about?" he asked, confused. She nodded, smiling even wider. "Come on in, I'm terribly sorry I had you waiting there," Sage said, opening the door wider to let her in. Sage pulled up the rocking chair and took a seat on the bed, picking up his knapsack and pulling out the project from the night before. She sat down on the rocking chair, watching him work. "I'm sorry, sugar, I don't think I caught your name. I'm Mrs. Brown, but you can call me Sadie," she said with a wink. Sage smiled, his fingers flying over the needles. "My name is Sage," he said, nodding. "I-we-um-we got settled in last night, this is a very nice apartment," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Aw, thanks, sweetie," Sadie said, laughing. "You are lucky, you know," she said with a devious grin. "Whatever do you mean?" Sage asked, counting the stitches on his needle. "I saw the look in his eyes when he talked about you, honey," she said with a laugh. "You won't be 'just friends' for long." Sage felt his face grow hot. "I-well-it's-" he stuttered, "You really think-" he dropped his needles, hiding his face in his hands. Sadie stood up and began rubbing his back. "I'm sorry, sugar, I was just teasing," she said. "Tall, and so, so handsome….those muscles….I hope you'll be happy, sweetie." Sage laughed, looking up at her. Thank you, Sadie." He thought for a moment. "You know, I'm craving some homemade cinnamon candy. Would you happen to have any red food colouring?"
— — — — — — — — — — — —
đť”𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔢
"Kill it, Vega. I need it dead."
A nod. Footsteps.
Vega knew the drill. There was a witness. Bison gave him enough information for him to finish the job and sent him off. Normally he was a decorated bodygaurd, only there to intimidate anyone who entered the throne room. Today, he could go outside. He could feel his claw slipping through flesh and blood. He could watch his opponent cower in fear as he, the most beautiful fighter anyone had ever known, prepared for his next kill.
He was also excited and anticipating the fated meeting. And oh, would he enjoy it.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
𝔠𝔥𝔞đť”𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢
He alighted on the windowsill with his usual grace, silently opening the window of his target's apartment. As soon as he had cracked it open, music flooded his ears. It wasn't like the music he had heard in other targets' home, it was…catchy. It had a crooning voice and tones that coaxed its listener to sway along with its upbeat rythm. He quirked an eyebrow at the his target, who was dancing to the beautiful sounds emenating from a record player's flower-shaped bell.
"How d'ya like your eggs in the mornin'?" the small, thin male sang with the record. The singer answered back with "I like-a mine with a kiss…" The boy, who looked about sixteen, was energetically bobbing along to the old-fashioned sounds with a vigorous manner that Vega had rarely seen. The boy began to ballroom dance, swaying with an imaginary partner. He whirled around, the notes he had been prepared to sing dying on his lips as he took in what he was seeing. To Vega, the look of surprise was delectable. He smiled under his mask. The boy couldn't see it, of course, but that didn't matter. The boy smiled, then, a witch-like cackle burbling from his throat.
"Took you a while, didn't it?" the tiny frame giggled. "I knew they would send someone, but I thought you'd come sooner…" The boy tucked a loose strand of hair away from his face. "I saw you there, I think. I recognized the tattoo…" The boy's gaze flickered over the rippling muscles of Vega's chest. "Where did you get that, I wonder…?"
Now it was Vega's turn to be surprised. He hesitated, waiting to see what the small one would do next. The petite wonder shrugged and looked him in the eyes, smiling.
"Well, let's be friends before you kill me, then. I'd hate to become a ghost and not know who I would be haunting."
He picked up a set of knitting needles and a basket of yarn, making himself comfortable atop a small, cosy-looking bed. The small fingers began casting on, moving at such a breakneck pace that Vega could barely tell what was happening. The boy looked up at him, still knitting, and snickered. He scooched over and patted the spot next to him.
"Come now, don't be shy. I won't bite, I promise." Vega sat down, careful not to bump into the little guy. The boy made a clucking sound, ticking back his stitches to fix a mistake.
"Oh," he said, looking again at the enourmous form beside him, "I forgot all about introductions! I'm such a ninny sometimes…" He made a small bob of the head, somewhat akin to a bow or curtsey.
"I'm Sage, what's your name?"
Vega avoided the question by taking off his claw. It took a minute, as there were several types of fastenings there to keep the thing in place. He glanced at the small form beside him, smiling slightly as the boy gave him a wide-eyed look, his needles still clicking to their manic rythm. Vega rubbed the back of his hand, feeling the muscles relax. The claw was a bit heavy, so he made sure to do small hand exercises. The stretching helped a lot, even if he was mostly used to such soreness by now. He set the claw on his lap, making sure that the razor-sharp tips were directed away from Sage.
A strand of hair made its way into his eye just then, and he made a noise of annoyance at it. He brushed it back across his head, looking at Sage all the while. The silence had become awkward, and he enjoyed the company of the odd little being. It had been quite some time since he had talked to someone at leisure like this, even if he was a nobleman by day. He resolved that he would rather spend some time with Sage, even if he would have to die tonight.
"Well? Shall you tarry all night, or will you speak? I'm quite curious as to what your voice might sound like, as well as what name might accompany someone such as you," Sage said. He looked down at his knitting, scrunching his nose in concentration.
"Is that a particularly difficult bit of handiwork, or are you suppressing annoyance at myself?" Vega asked.
Sage looked up, grinning. "I knew you had a lovely voice in there somewhere! You move too gracefully to be just some assasin," he said, tilting his head to the side. "Oh, and this bit has some complicated shaping-my apologies for not answering you first."
Vega laughed, a real, genuine laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this, as he hadn't had much to laugh at in a terribly long time. He smiled then, a true smile, a smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners. Sage smiled too, but then turned serious. He stared at where the rest of Vega's features were, hiding under a smooth, white mask. Vega felt a sudden regret, a guilt at Sage's smile faltering, even for a second. He suddenly realized that Sage was…..beautiful. It was not a perfect sort of beautiful, as he thought of himself as, but it was still beauty. A raw, imperfect beauty.
"I am known as Vega….I do hope that I haven't unnnerved you. What might be wrong, dove?" Vega said, concerned at both the lack of Sage's happiness and his impulsive use of a pet name.
"Oh, I'm fine, thank you though," Sage replied, looking down at his knitting again. His fingers flew effortlessly over the needles, and he bit his lip in concentration. His brow was furrowed as he excecuted the difficult shaping techniques. He looked up again, and Vega could see that he was deep in thought.
"Are you sure you're all right? You look…forgive me if I'm being inaccurate, but you look disraught," Vega said. He looked down at the growing number of stitches that fell like a waterfall from Sage's needles.
"I was just wondering….why do you wear the mask?" Sage asked, abruptly, looking almost scared of what the answer would be.
Vega was stunned. No one had ever really wanted to know why…He reached behind his hair, slowly, and began unfastening the mask. His heart was beating wildly as he felt the buckle loosen. He let out a shuddering breath and lifted it from his face.
Sage's needles dropped from his fingers, and his eyes widened. "You're….." he whispered, "you're so…" he licked his lips. He chuckled, picking up the needles with shaking hands. "Do me a favor?" he asked, unwilling to look at Vega's eyes.
"Anything."
"Kill me. I can't….why are you so…." he looked frustrated, as if he couldn't find the words.
Vega felt a sudden anger, a rupulsion. He could not let Sage die. Not now, not ever. "Anything-absolutley anything but that, dove."
Sage looked up, confused. "Why? Weren't you sent to kill me? Isn't that why you're here?"
Vega felt….something. He couldn't quite place it, because he'd never felt it before. It was warm, and agonizing, and made his palms sweaty and his mind foggy. His stomach was….fluttering? He felt sick and happy and-
"Vega?"
He looked at Sage, swallowing hard. "I…I cannot kill you. Please, don't ever ask me of that again."
"What shall happen to me, then? If you were sent to kill me, then there must've been a reason…" His eyes were pleading, though Vega didn't know what the look meant.
Vega got up and began to pace. He didn't know he was doing it, really, he just needed to do something. He had to think….had to find a way…Sage had to be safe. He thought, suddenly, of his hideaway. He had rented an apartment away from both Shadowlaw and his palace. He had needed a quiet place away from both worlds, an inbetween of sorts.
Vega laughed, knowing that fate had given him a way out. Fate had brought him the one thing he had thought himself incapable of, and had also conveniently given him a place to keep his little dove, a place where Sage would never come to harm, where he would be safe.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
𝔠𝔥𝔞đť”𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔬
Sage made a noise of frustration. "I really don't see the point in all this," he whispered. "Where are we going?"
Vega stared ahead at the empty street. He was sweating a bit, as it was a warm night and Sage was firmly clinging onto his back. Vega had insisted that he perch there, that way they could arrive at their destination quickly and quietly. Sage had protested, but he finally agreed to accompany Vega to wherever they were going as long as he could pack a knapsack for the journey.
"Please, you've been extremely secretive about all this, and I'm getting a little worried…."
"Dove, I promise you that everything will be all right," Vega said, exasperated. He navigated his way through the quietest places, eventually making his way to the balcony he was looking for. He heard a gentle snore, and realized that Sage had fallen asleep on the way over. It must be late…or, rather, quite early, he thought, looking at where the moon sat in the sky. He climbed his way up the ivy wrapped around the building, looking around to make sure no one was watching. He heaved himself atop the balcony and pulled open the sliding door to the apartment itself.
The apartment was small, but it was clean and cozy. Vega very carefully detached Sage from his back and carried him over to the soft bed. The knapsack found its way to a chair in the corner, and Vega slipped on a roomy white blouse. He stowed away his claw, mask, and sash in a chest of drawers adorned with intricate carvings and finally fell asleep in a rocking chair, his head leaning back on the curved top.
Vega woke up with a start. Sage had started crying in his sleep, mumbling words that couldn't be made out. Vega was there in an instant, trying to gently wake Sage. "Sage….Sage, dove….." he said, soothingly, though he wasn't sure, really, what to do in this situation. Sage woke with a start, clutching Vega's sleeve. "The blood…." he said, tears streaming down his face. There was a look of pure terror in his eyes, and he was shaking uncontrollably. "So much blood…pools of it….puddle after puddle after puddle of scarlet…" He looked around, confused, as he began to realize that whatever he had seen wasn't real. He looked back at Vega, and loosened his grip on his sleeve.
"Are you all right?" Vega asked, brushing a lock of hair out of Sage's eyes. Sage nodded, saying, "I do hope I didn't scare you…I haven't had nightmares like that in a long time." Vega shook his head. "You mustn't be sorry for things you cannot control." Sage rubbed his eyes, looking around. "Where are we?" he asked, sitting up. Vega smiled and pushed Sage's bangs back from his face and let his hand rest on Sage's soft cheek. He traced his thumb back and forth as Sage leaned in to the gesture. "You need to sleep," Vega whispered. Sage pouted as he laid back down, but the look vanished as Vega tucked him in and laid a soft kiss on his forehead. "Sleep sweet, dove," he whispered, making his way back to the rocking chair.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
𝔠𝔥𝔞đť”𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢
The sun shining through the curtains was just enough to wake Sage up. His eyes fluttered open, and he grunted in annoyance. "Stupid sun," he said, stretching. He slowly made his way out of bed, rubbing his eyes. "Vega….." he called. There was no answer. "Vega?" He shuffled around the apartment, looking for the rouge in vain. He finally discovered the note that was taped to the mirror over the chest of drawers. Sage took a minute staring at Vega's handwriting. It was a beautiful, spidery script, with oodles of unnessasary loops and flourishes. It finally hit him that he should probably be reading the note itself instead of admiring the letters, and the note read as thus:
My darling Sage,
Unfortunately, I must report to the Shadowlaw today. I hope you won't get into too much mischief whilst I'm away. You're welcome to anything in the larder if you get hungry, and the television remote is in the second drawer of the dresser you found this note upon. I believe that there is a radio around here somewhere, though I can't quite remember where it might be hiding. I told the landlady that you're a friend who is moving in with me, so remember that if she asks any questions. Please don't leave the apartment complex, though, I don't want you hurt or lost.
-Vega
Sage blew a frustrated raspberry. "Oh, sure, first day after you KIDNAP ME and you just up and LEAVE." He shook a fist at the window. "You're infurating, do you know that?!" he said to the ceiling. He huffed and grumbled a little more, and then realized just how hungry he was. He shuffled halfheartedly to the fridge, pulling it open with a grunt. It was an older model and thus harder to open. Sage rummaged around a little and found a box of apple juice. "Huh," Sage remarked, "I'm going to ask him about that later…." He dug around some more, sipping at the juice, and eventually pulled out a package of bacon and some eggs. He grinned and placed the food on the kitchenette, digging out some butter and scouring the pantry cabinet for salt and pepper. He rummaged around for a frying pan and a spatula, and swiftly got to work.
He warmed up the pan first, then slid a generous pat of butter across the surface. He cracked the eggs and seasoned them, humming to himself and taking care not to pop the sunny yellow yolks. The aroma of the crackling eggs and bacon wafted throughout the apartment, perfuming the air with their scrumptious scent. Soon enough, he had plated up his breakfast and sat down to eat. He did a little happy dance as he ate, as he hadn't eaten a breakfast this satisfying in a while. He finished up his meal, then took a minute to look for some dish soap so that he could clean up. While looking around, he happened to stumble upon the elusive radio, so he tuned it and continued to wash the dishes. He sang along to a couple of the songs, as the station was playing a series of his favourite oldies and there were a few he liked well enough to take the time and learn the lyrics.
A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Sage jumped at the noise. He wiped his hands on his jeans and hesitantly opened the door. Standing there was a plump, middle-aged woman with bright red lipstick. She had honey-coloured blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. "Oh, hi, honey!" she gushed, smiling warmly. "I just came up to meet you, sweetheart, your friend said he had you move in with him." Sage blinked. "Might you be the landlady he wro-told me about?" he asked, confused. She nodded, smiling even wider. "Come on in, I'm terribly sorry I had you waiting there," Sage said, opening the door wider to let her in. Sage pulled up the rocking chair and took a seat on the bed, picking up his knapsack and pulling out the project from the night before. She sat down on the rocking chair, watching him work. "I'm sorry, sugar, I don't think I caught your name. I'm Mrs. Brown, but you can call me Sadie," she said with a wink. Sage smiled, his fingers flying over the needles. "My name is Sage," he said, nodding. "I-we-um-we got settled in last night, this is a very nice apartment," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Aw, thanks, sweetie," Sadie said, laughing. "You are lucky, you know," she said with a devious grin. "Whatever do you mean?" Sage asked, counting the stitches on his needle. "I saw the look in his eyes when he talked about you, honey," she said with a laugh. "You won't be 'just friends' for long." Sage felt his face grow hot. "I-well-it's-" he stuttered, "You really think-" he dropped his needles, hiding his face in his hands. Sadie stood up and began rubbing his back. "I'm sorry, sugar, I was just teasing," she said. "Tall, and so, so handsome….those muscles….I hope you'll be happy, sweetie." Sage laughed, looking up at her. Thank you, Sadie." He thought for a moment. "You know, I'm craving some homemade cinnamon candy. Would you happen to have any red food colouring?"
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