Evasive feet clunked against bamboo, like the stutter of a cheap elevator cord dragging Mari's soul up to heaven, too weak to bang against the metal. His sweaty skin peels off of Sunny's, the whine of a screeching halt reverberating off the walls.
Kel, as always, wasn't afforded the luxury of dwelling on whether or not Sunny found that gross or swelling up in pride at Sunny's distinct "Holy shit he actually showered" smell. Couldn't even fight the blush illuminating his face in the dark for the amusement of a giggling Basil. The sight of black slopes under wiggling toes drained every last drop of blood back down to his thundering heart.
They didn't use the elevator.
Sunny isn't really a surprise. When he actually has the energy to throw on shoes, he silently stews in how inconvenient they are, tossing them in his closet the moment he hits the mattress.
They didn't use the elevator.
But Basil? They clean themselves silly before daring to take even one step onto the welcome mat, even after digging his toes in the mud with Kel (much to Aubery's hilarious disgust). Aubrey jokes that Ms. Polly'll have his head, and Kel, bold in his pursuits, adds that Basil's just looking for some head of his own, nudging his side. Aubrey shoves him down and he and Basil laugh as they wipe away the splashback of brown sludge. A tale so classic, Sunny could have dreamed it up in headspace.
They didn't use the elevator.
Basil's no better at keeping secrets nowadays, only having less. Ms. Polly, she keeps tabs on the panic in his voice when she positions her broom at that first step, how he offers to do it themself only to freeze by step three.
They didn't use the elevator.
Filthy stairs in a spotless home.
Sunny and Basil didn't use the elevator. They took the stairs.
They took the stairs.
They
Took
The
Stairs
They took the stairs.
Kel...fucked up. Big time.