Mocha Latte
-Kitty
Chapter 2: Lazy Morning
A dim, bubbling sound preceding a sharp click woke him. A white ear flicked backward, reacting to the noise. Dark lashes slowly cracked apart as he opened his golden eyes. It had been a very long since he'd slept so deeply and there was a part of him greatly concerned with that. Had he been drugged?
There was a warm, natural light streaming in from the far wall and it fell over him, heating his skin, relaxing him further. It was so contrary to how he'd been waking up for the past several years, perhaps decades, and it confused him to a point where he could hardly move a muscle as he absorbed this strange situation he found himself in. The presence nearby shuffled and the sound of water dripping into a glass container caught his attention and he followed it in a strange, hazy trance.
Drip…
Drip…
Drip…
Then the smell permeated the room, a warm, dark scent that slowly reached into the deeper parts of his sleepy mind and drew him out. A buzzing sound came from the other side of the hanging sheet and another shuffling as the presence moved to answer her phone.
"What is it, Miroku?"
Her voice finished what the smell of coffee had started and now he was wide awake.
"So?"
There was an edge to her tone that put him on guard. She was obviously unhappy with the caller and he was suddenly curious as to why.
"It's your fault your agents didn't have the info to handle it properly, why should I help you?"
More sound of liquid pouring, sending another wave of that distinctive coffee aroma around the room. Then a tinkling sound. Then the muted sound of swallowing as the woman took a sip.
"Well maybe you should have thought of that when you sent her off to catch him in the first place. The half son of a daiyoukai is no simple task, idiot!"
That jolted him awake like a splash of cold water. She was talking about him! His eyes snapped open and he immediately began to seek out an escape route. There was a window, across from him, with the early morning sunlight trickling in, sparkling against drifting dust particles to create a dreamy effect. But he didn't linger on that detail, only concerned with the pulsing ward pasted over it. There was no escaping through that window.
"If Sango was hurt on that assignment, I'm coming after you, you know."
There was a cold, steely warning in her voice that he felt in his body more than he heard it. He felt his heartbeat growing faster in response, his eyes carefully following the faint shadow he could see on the other side of the sheet. She was moving down, coming closer to the bed where he lay and he began preparing his claws and fangs for the anticipated attack.
"Well maybe you should have thought of that before taking the case," the tone of exasperation was strong in her voice. "It's my vacation time! I'm not answering any more calls from you!"
The sheet was pushed aside and the image of a grumpy, groggy young woman met his eyes. Her hair was a wild mess around her face and she glanced at his tense, ready position without concern. Switching off her phone, she threw it carelessly onto the nightstand and took a sip from her steaming mug as she assessed him with deep, chocolatey brown eyes.
"Calm down," she muttered, "You're in no shape to be fighting anybody."
It was true, although he felt considerably better than yesterday. His limbs still felt weak and heavy from the poison of the demon hunter's bombs and his side still ached from the slash of her blade. He narrowed his eyes at her, completely cornered against the wall and entirely suspicious now that he knew she worked with the people who'd attacked him. She raised a humored eyebrow at him, a smirk lighting up her face.
"I told you I wont ask questions," she said, "Relax, no one's gonna hurt you here."
The woman came even closer, within striking range and his hands trembled as he continued to teeter in his decision to either flee or attack. She didn't seem to notice or care, her eyes were only concerned with the bandages wrapped tightly around his abdomen, visually inspecting them before glancing up to smile confusingly into his face.
"Lookin' good, stranger," she said jovially, "I'm always so jealous by how fast you guys heal."
She stepped back, taking another long draught of her coffee.
"You're probably hungry," she said, "Probably should have something gentle on the stomach, yeah?"
She turned around and returned to the kitchen. Now with the separating sheet tucked to the side, he had an uninterrupted view of the room. It was tiny. The desk jammed against the wall was close enough for him to reach from the mattress. There was a beat up couch slumped depressingly against the far side of the room, half blocking the entryway to a small, cramped kitchen. Within, she made a racket with pots and pans, turning on the stove and fanning the air to disperse the smell of gas. A clean, savory scent began to permeate outward and his stomach growled excitedly in response.
"It's gonna be a little bland but I think some porridge should hit the spot," she was saying over her shoulder. To say he was perplexed by her treatment of him was a gross understatement. Perhaps that confusion was what stayed his hand when he'd been preparing to strike out at her. He took a breath and glanced around the room. The walls were absolutely jam packed with painted, warped papers, imagery of peaceful landscapes and colorful, dreamlike designs staining their crisp white sheets. Charms and knick knacks were propped up or hung from every conceivable surface and he couldn't help but feel embraced in this den like space, an organically and lovingly built nest. Across from him, the young woman began to approach him carefully, balancing a brimming bowl of steaming porridge on a tray. She began to lean over him and his eyes went wide as this body turned to stone.
"Careful, it's hot," she told him, gently positioning it over his lap before turning away. He had to remind himself to breath. That was way. Too. Close! Personal space, woman! It was like his brain went into lockdown as she'd dipped down in front of him, the wave of her scent crashing over him tsunami style. As warm and fresh as it was, he just couldn't get his thoughts past his absolute shock that such an ordinary, casual gesture was being directed toward him. Blinking several times, he finally managed to refocus his eyes and relocate the befuddling young woman. She'd wandered back into the kitchen and had filled her electric kettle again with water and the little, beat up thing looked completely unsafe as it rattled and hissed in an effort to service its owner. When her second cup of coffee had been brewed, she softly padded over, casually sinking into the mattress beside him and took a noisy sip.
"I gotta feed Buyo and Griff in a bit," she said absently. He couldn't be sure if she was speaking to him or herself. "Then I gotta get some more flour and eggs, and then stop by the leather shop, then check on Sango…"
He made a face as he glanced at her, her baffling behavior completely throwing him off kilter. The young woman picked at the lint sticking to her sweatpants, looking comical in her oversized, shapeless shirt. She snuggled into the pillows, bringing her bare feet up. She was so uncomfortably close, he almost couldn't stand it. Positively frozen stiff beside her, he couldn't even touch the brothy porridge she'd given him, despite how his stomach flipped and grumbled for it.
"You're not going to eat?" she asked him, turning to look into his eyes. His expression was classic deer-in-headlights. She stared at him for a moment longer, her eyes direct and unflinching. There was no judgement or emotion, just a direct, open stare. Finally, she shrugged and looked away. Much to his relief, she moved to stand, stretching her arms over her head, her mouth open wide in a jaw cracking yawn.
Absently, she placed her empty mug in her sink before hunting around on the floor, eventually pulling up a pair of jeans and tank top. His eyes flared wide before immediately clamping shut when she began undressing in the middle of the room. Behind his eyelids, the image of her bare rump caught in the sunlight was seared into his brain and he followed her movements with his ears, listening the sound of cloth shifting against skin. He heard a zip and a sigh and ventured open his golden irises again. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he frowned as she grabbed a backpack and opened the door to the outside.
"You should probably keep resting for the day," she said offhandedly, "Just leave the bowl on the nightstand or something. I have protection charms so nothing should come wandering in while I'm gone."
Unceremoniously, she turned and left the apartment, the door clicking as it closed shut. And then he was alone. Confusion still swimming in his eyes, he glanced around again at the warmly lit, cluttered room before turning his attention to the still untouched bowl in front of him. He was salivating, practically drooling and then he didn't particularly care where he was or who that strange woman might be. He picked up the spoon on the tray and began to eat.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!
