An inkling sat on his bed, rubbing his right arm which he had used to clean his entire room of dust. It had been the third time he had to do it, since his mother didn't seem to find that he did it well enough. He had gone by everything with a new dust cloth every time, but whatever he did, his mother didn't seem to take it as clean enough.
His dad came into his room with a large garbage back. He had been emptying the bins around the house and his bin was next. He had his sleeves rolled up and a new dust cloth in his other hand. He threw the cloth to the inkling on the bed.
"Again?" The boy asked his father.
"She's never satisfied, is she?" The dad said jokingly. The boy just let out a sigh.
"I tell you what. If you'd leave the house for the afternoon, I'll tell your mother you've done your room. That way you don't have to do any more chores. Sound good Chris?"
Chris didn't give Bob a chance to say anything else. "Sounds good. Where would I go however? We're cleaning the house for the remainder of the week. No way I can stay out for that long!"
His father emptied his bin while thinking of an answer. "How about that girl you invited last Squidmas?"
"Marly?"
"Yes, her. Can't you stay with her for a couple of days?"
"I'll give her a call." Chris said as he took out his phone and found the speed dial.
"If you can, just pack your bag and try to slip by, I'll take Nathasia to the grocery store in the meantime." His father left and closed the door behind him, only to reappear soon after.
"Just let me know when you'll be back." He closed the door behind him again and could hear him enter the room next to his and emptying the bin there into the trash bag.
Chris didn't let this chance pass him by and he had pressed the call button before his dad had even gone downstairs. His mom could be a sweetheart, but another of her hearts was as dark as one could imagine, mostly shown at moments like this. This mother was one you didn't want on your bad side, and now his dad had given him a chance to escape her grasp. Not that he knew for sure that he had to continuously dust his room just because she didn't want him downstairs, as he would just be in the way, but he still felt like he would be getting out of doing chores.
"Hello? Who am I speaking with?" A high pitched voice he knew all to well said from the other end of the phone.
"Hi Marly, I was wondering if-"
"Chris?"
"Yea. I was wondering-"
"I am so sorry. I should really add your number to my contacts."
"Sure, but hear me out, I was wondering if I-"
"I am listening."
"Yes, so..." Chris waited for a bit to see if she would stay silent. "I was-"
"Are you still… Sorry. Please continue."
"So… I was… wondering… if I could stay with you for a few days."
"Why would you want to come over?"
"My mom is on a cleaning spree. It isn't even all that long after Squidmas and she already wants to start cleaning."
"You are not fond of cleaning, are you?"
"Not really, no."
"Than I hope that you can stand a disorganized clutter of rubbish."
"So I can come?"
"Yes, you could, but as I sad-"
"I can't thank you enough! I'll be on my way!"
"Do you have the location of my residence?"
"n-no…"
"Should I come over to drive you to my apartment?"
"Yea you could… Wait, you already drive a car?"
"No, I do not. I have a-"
"Doesn't matter. If you could, come as quick as possible."
"I will be on my way. See you soon."
"I'll be here waiting for you."
The phone emitted a long beep, indicating that the other side had hung up. Chris closed the call and slammed his empty hand against his head. He couldn't understand how he could even say something like that. 'I'll be here waiting for you.' Even his dad wouldn't say something like that to his mom. To be fair, his mother didn't seem like the squid that would be in for romance, but than again, he was here, so there was the proof that she indeed was into it.
He started packing his backpack. Just a few shirts, some pants and underwear, his beakbrush, some beakpaste to go with it, nothing out of the ordinary. He put his inktank and inkbrush next to the bag, one could never know if they were going to do some turf war. He would feel ashamed if he had to ask her for spare equipment, knowing full well that he had these here at home. He could hear the front door and saw through is window how his dad and mother were walking out onto the street with some shopping bags. He knew he had to be quick now, since they would only be away for twenty minutes at most.
Chris put on his backpack, picked up his inkbrush with one hand and threw his inktank over the shoulder of his still free arm, hoping it would stay there until he could put it down in whatever vehicle it was that Marly would come pick him up with.
He looked out of the window again, and seeing no one at their door, he went downstairs and put down his inktank and -brush before taking a seat on the couch in the living room. He could complain all he wanted, but his mother was serious when it came to cleaning. The floor was mopped so many times, one could not only use it as a mirror, but it was even cleaner that the plates that they used to eat from.
The clock's hands slowly crawled on their path to go around past all the numbers, and Chris began to get nervous. If Marly didn't get here in time, his mother would find him downstairs and he would be kicked so hard he couldn't even have superjumped as high.
He counted the minutes going by. Five, Seven, Ten, Twelve, Sixteen. His parents could be home any minute now and she still wasn't here. Of course, like it was no more then a story needing to move forward, Marly arrived just as he started getting desperate. He sprinted to the front door, picked up his tank and brush and ran outside, slamming the door closed behind him.
To his surprise, she hadn't lied about the driving, nor about not owning a car, she instead had arrived on a bicycle. It indeed complicated things, how was he supposed to take all his things with him. Chris quickly assembled a plan like he would create a plan when playing turf war. He handed the brush and tank to the octoling that had just gotten off her bike and took of his backpack. He put it back on, but with the bag on his chest instead of his back.
"No time to waste, I'll ride, you hold these and get on the luggage carrier."
"Why are you in a hurry?" Marly asked as she put on the inktank and took the brush.
"She's almost back." Chris took place on the bicycle, only to find that the paddles where just barely withing his reach.
"Are you sure that you want to ride my bicycle?"
"It'll be fine." He said while pulling one of the paddles up so he could take of at a moments notice. "Just get on before she returns."
"Who is this 'she' you keep referring to?" She asked as she sat down on the back of the bike, one hand holding the brush, the other on his shoulder.
"my… mother" He grunted as he pushed on the paddle with all the strength he had.
The bike started going forward and he had to keep giving his all to get it to accelerate.
"Why do you want to hide your departure form her?"
"She's cleaning the house. When she finds out that I tried to evade the chores she'd given me..."
"Nathasia can be strict, can she not?" It surprised Chris that she still knew his mothers name. He didn't get to much time to be amazed as Marly told him: "And take a right here."
He did as he was told and turned right. After having had another right turn, one to the left, another right, two more lefts and one last right to top it off, he had gotten really tired of having to keep going. He knew that Inkopolis was big, but trying to bike through what felt like the whole of it took longer than he wanted to admit. He also didn't want to admit that he liked having Marly behind him, giving him the orders to take a turn and holding his shoulder, fully trusting in him to keep going.
"There it is." Marly pointed at an apartment building with the inkbrush, making Chris sway because of the shift of weight.
He steered the bike to the front door that led to the staircase. He waited for Marly to get off before he got off himself and put the bicycle under a small roofed enclosure that the octoling then opened up. Chris locked the bike and handed Marly the key as he took the inkbrush back.
"I'll carry this for you." Marly said, pointing at the inktank on her back.
"No please, It's my stuff, I'll carry it." Chris took a stance in front of the door. He wouldn't let her pass with his tank.
'you are a gentleman, you know that?" Marly giggled.
Chris couldn't help but stare at her, something in him just didn't want to do anything else but look at her. He finely took his eyes off her as he took the inktank from her and put it on his back, over the straps of his backpack that he still wore on his chest.
"I am sorry. Must be a force of habit." She excused herself.
"What is?" He was looking at her again. He just couldn't stop, why it was he didn't know.
"I filled your tank." She calmly explained. "Must have been a force of habit."
"No worries, I'll just empty it again." He could feel himself blushing as he actively avoided trying to look her into the eyes. He stepped aside and turned his head as not to look at her, hoping she wouldn't see him blushing.
She opened the door and went up the stairs, followed by Chris, who was straining himself to get everything moved up after he had just had to bike all the way through Inkopolis with a passenger. The staircase was a murky white with gray concrete walls, it made the whole feel depressing. Somehow, Chris just kept climbing, even though he had no idea how he kept himself going at this point.
They came to a row of doors at the fourth floor and Marly stopped in front of one that was just as white as all the others. All of the doors had numbers carved out in them, and the door they stood for was engraved with the number 404. She put in a small key and the door clicked open.
The apartment behind it was simply decorated and colored in dark gray colors. The living room featured a small couch in front of a small tube television that had 2 crooked antenna. Against the wall on the left stood a shelf filled with books and on the lowest board lay a inktank and a roller that he knew all to well. Next to it also lay a splattershot jr. and a disarmed splatbomb. Against the right wall there was a counter with a sink and oven, it was most likely the kitchen, also colored in a slightly lighter gray then the walls around it. Behind the couch stood a small, high table with a few chairs, possibly the dinner table. Next to the kitchen was a single wooden door, it was just as white as the front door, it just lacked a lock.
Overall, the room seemed clean and whilst not the most welcoming because of the color scheme, it did feel like a cozy place, all be it with walls that were mostly barren. Chris couldn't understand how Marly could think it was a mess in here. Sure, the bookshelf maybe had accumulated a bit of dust, just like the top of the television, but the whole didn't look filthy at all, far from it.
"I am sorry for the state of disarray that this room is in."
"What do ya mean?"
"The books aren't in order, some disks are not in the right casing, my roller hasn't seen maintenance this month yet and not to speak of-"
"It's fine, please don't stress about it." Chris walked over to the couch and put down the bag, brush, and the inktank that was filled with ink. He wanted to say that it was pink, but he knew it was to dark to be called that. There was a word for it, but he couldn't find it. He sat down and Marly came to sit next to him. She picked up the remote and held it towards the television, but she didn't press any buttons.
"What would you prefer to watch on the television?" She asked him, making him look at her again, something he had tried to avoid since they entered the building and he had hoped to keep up for longer than this.
"Fuchsia!" He called out, having just remembered the word that he was looking for. It took Marly a little bit to connect what he said to something.
"I chose this color because I feels well-known. Do you think it suits me?" With this response, it was now Chris' time to be startled.
"I think any color would look good on you." He could have given himself a royal beating for this comment, but at the same time he felt like he meant it.
"I do not believe that a color like turquoise would suit me. It would never work so well as it does for you."
Chris stared at her. He couldn't tell if she was saying what she said, or if this was just her being an ignorant sweetheart again. He then scolded himself for calling her a sweetheart. Chris knew that he had accepted that he had feelings for her, but he was taking it to far, or at least so he thought. He was beginning to doubt himself again, just like he had done when he thought that they were just friends. The question that lurked from a corner of his mind was if she would like him like he liked her.
"I will just activate the television, we shall see what is has to show." Marly put down the remote as the television sprung to life and showed a table with a few squids in suits and dresses, in the background an excavation.
"… to say that they indeed celebrated this day." A suited squid on the right of the screen ended a sentence that had started before the tv had been on.
"There were metal engraved cards found that all included glyphs that, according to experts, correspond to a date." A squid on the left, wear a dress answered. "They indeed seemed to celebrate the relations between individuals that engaged in-"
She was interrupted by another squid that sat at the head of the table, just below the screen that showed the excavation in progress.
"So you are saying that they had a holiday in where they celebrated love?"
"yes"
"You're assuming, by simply looking at symbols and colors, what the meaning of all of that was?" The squid on the right snapped back.
"Not assuming, carefully examining and piecing together of the parts."
Chris never had to much trouble showing interest for what was on at the moment, but this was just the tv mocking him. He knew he should just try to ask her, as he saw that with his obviously clunky behavior and now even the tv, Marly still didn't notice anything.
"The most impressive is that the experts have pinpointed the date that those symbols stand for."
"If I read the rapport right, that their annual celebration would be tomorrow, weird to think that those humans would..."
He stopped listening, the television had sort of made up for the insult by giving him a plan that in his mind was going to be a success, or fail spectacularly. All he had to do was try and chose the activities they were going to do tomorrow.
"Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?" He tried to start without raising suspicion.
"Well, since you are now dining with me, I do not have enough soup to last me until the next day." She pointed at the kitchen, where a pot stood on the stove. Something he somehow missed when he entered the room. "I would have to go out to get ingredients to set up a new batch."
He saw his chance and immediately grabbed it. "What if we go to a restaurant tomorrow?"
"I think I have seen a couple of places that advertise to be restaurants." Marly said, like it was a completely normal activity to study the function of every building. "What would one do there, because you are making it sound like it would have something to do with nourishment."
He wasn't even amazed anymore by her surprise over something one should already know about. It was a lot worse when he first met her, but she had continued to amaze him with her lack of knowledge to the point where we started to expect it.
"You go there and order food. They then make it for you while you wait."
"But why would you then not make it yourself?"
"We could just order beforehand as well if you don't like to wait."
"What does one do in the time in between?"
"Maybe we could visit the cinema?" Chris was happy, she let him decide like she knew what he was trying to do. It made him wonder if she had caught on, although he ensured himself that she didn't, that just wasn't like her.
"Is that where you go into a dark room and watch imagery on a large cloth?"
"You could call it that..."
"I like that idea."
Chris couldn't help but notice that he was smiling. Why he was smiling he couldn't tell either. Most likely he looked forward to tomorrow. He knew he most likely wasn't able to hide it from himself nor deny that it was true, he liked her, like, really liked her. But did she feel the same for him? A question that had been going through the back of his mind since the moment he had started driving her bike. No, that question went all the way back to Squidmas, he then had to tell himself. He would just need to find the right moment to ask her.
The rest of the night was rather uneventful. Marly had heated up the soup while Chris had tried some other channels, not finding anything remotely interesting. They had then eaten soup, again in silence. Somehow, Marly seemed to be good at focusing purely on the task at hand.
After having suggested that it would only be fair for him to sleep on the couch, since he was the one to ask if he could stop by and crash down at her place, the octoling had gotten to her room and came back with a spare blanket.
"Why would you get the blanket already, it's only just past seven?"
"I usually go to bed at seven o'clock." She answered him.
"You do? How do you get yourself to sleep then?"
"The same as you I assume, I lay down and wait for the sleep to set in, usually after no more then 30 seconds."
"You'd have to teach me that someday, that sounds so much easier than rolling around for half an hour."
"I could tell you right now. Just take your place on the couch."
Chris did as he was asked. He sat down and turned as he pulled his legs up to lay down after having taken off his shoes. She took the blanked and laid it over him. Pulling on the edges to ensure that he was fully covered from his neck down.
"Now close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing."
"But how would that..."
"Just try it first."
He let his eyelids fall closed and tried to breathe in a more controlled manner. He could feel his body slowly relaxing. The next thing he remembered was waking up to the sun peeking in from one of the windows the next day.