The walk home is darker than it had been, but you easily make it back the way you came and to your apartment within ten minutes. Sifting for your house key off your chain, you idly notice your brother's truck is gone. Thank god, you can catch a break today. You push the door in, shutting it quietly behind you when you notice the man half-wrapped in a blanket and sprawled on your couch. You don't even know or care who it is until you pass by him, catching an accented mutter about a purple kitty cat. It's the Brit that blue-eyes reminds you of, the one you blame for having to wear headphones at night. You scoff in disgust, moving on to the kitchen and rooting around in the fridge. Leftover buffalo wings, a tube of cookie dough, apple juice, whipped cream - you shudder, making a face as you grab the juice, pouring some into your Castiel pint glass and head into the bathroom to examine your neck. You'd checked earlier and none of the plastic shards from your headphones had penetrated your skin, you had a few scrapes but it was alright enough. You place a red dog collar over the wounds, it fits nicely and you look almost normal. You smile to yourself, heading upstairs with your ape juice and shutting your door behind you, latching the chain. You've learned what happens when you don't. With a shiver you curl up in your bed, a pair of earbuds in as you pull you blanket over your head. You listen to so many Dan Bull and Machinima tracks you lose count, especially around seven when you hear your brother return home. You're going to Febreze the hell out of that couch the first chance you get. Your music is suddenly disrupted with the familiar ping of a text and you look down at your phone, expecting a text from one of your internet friends. Instead it's an unfamiliar number, but you tap on it anyways.
'coffee was good today. tomorrow, same time?'
You feel your cheeks heating up embarrassingly when you realize it's blue-eyes. You attempt to straighten up your dweebish smile, instead replying after a minute or so to make it seem like you were doing something and not lying around tuning out the sounds of literal horseplay in the next room.
'sounds good'
He replies immediately and you're relieved. He doesn't play games.
'i'll be there. goodnight!'
'night'
Such a short conversation but then, neither of you had been there to talk. You wanted time away from whatever hell you were escaping from. The fact that you had found someone worthy of your attention who was real and in the flesh, that was just a bonus. You suddenly can't wait to see him tomorrow, and have to turn your music up as loud as it can possibly go to get to sleep.
That night the color blue worms its way into your dreams, splashing against and mixing with your usual red. You don't feel the seconds ticking by like you usually do, instead it's a timeless moment. For once, you couldn't be happier.
Well there you have it, that's day one. Day two might just be in the life of John, depends.
A/N add-on: My life has just officially become a tiny slice of hell. I don't know if this means I won't be updating anything anymore or if I'll be updating everything more frequently, but whatever happens I'm sorry in advance. It might be awhile before I say anything again, either.
- AR