Away From Here- Chapter 14.
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Chapter 14.
Morning Routine And Conversations Over Toast.
So, a week comes and passes, a sequence of days that should be so familiar to Whiz: get up, get dressed, go to work at a job where everyone hates him because no one trusts a guy with optical implants, meet Mara at the Agency, go to Ankora’s; go home with Mara, stay up watching bad TV, with Mara practically asleep across his lap, go to bed, rinse and repeat five days a week.
And yet- his entire routine seems to have changed. All in course of a damned week.
Now he wakes to the sound of Mara giggling from the living room, loudly, as if she’s the only person in the entire apartment and there’s nothing else in the world that could possible be funnier than whatever the hell she is saying on the other end of vid screen.
He gets up and slings on his dressing grown, tied loosely around his waist and head into the living room, because he wants something to eat before he gets ready, not because he wants to hear Mara laughing with someone who isn’t him, laughing with the bright smile usually reserved for him and-
He shakes his head at himself, it’s not his place, it never really was his place to want that all to himself. Mara never wanted him, not like that.
He crosses his arms across his chest and wanders into the living room- where Mara is sprawled across the sofa, her black jersey pyjamas hang loosely off her frame as she grins at the television- where Shannon is currently sat, dressed in her work clothes, smiling as well.
He sighs, hoping it just sounds like tiredness. “Morning, Mar,” he says, as he wanders across to stand beside the television.
Mara turns to look at him. “Morning Whiz,” she says, sounding chirpy, not like her usual morning self, and Whiz knows that’s because she’s probably already been up an hour so so- chatting to Mole.
He’s found it’s a new segment to their routine: get up, get dressed, listen Mara flirt mercilessly with her prospective new girlfriend. Mara just smiles at him like nothing in the universe could ever be wrong. “Seriously Whiz, you have got to listen to what Shan found the other night it’s-”
“I’m sure it’s very interesting,” Whiz replies, shortly, trying to not to think about the fact it used to be Whiz that she’d talk about, her eyes bright and happy. “But I’ve got to make breakfast, want some toast?” he asks , not looking at her as he strides quickly towards the kitchen.
“Oh... yeah, sure,” she says, sounding just a little put out. Whiz shakes it off, sure Shannon can cheer her up again.
Their kitchen isn’t very big, containing just a few counters with an old fridge, coffee maker, microwave and an oven scattered between them. There are a couple of cupboards off to the side filled with boxed spices and dehydrated foods. Off to the side is a slightly battered food synthesiser, peeping happily at him. If it were up to Whiz, they’d always use the food synthesiser, but food data chips are expensive compared to dehydrated foods and ready meals, even if they are cheaper than fresh food it’s still pretty difficult to find cheap ones that don’t taste like the synthetic liquids they’re made from.
And anyway, Mara likes the taste of ‘real food’ every so often and Whiz...well...
Well Whiz likes to bake the occasional cake, okay? There’s nothing wrong with it, and they taste damned good considering the ingredients available.
The man in question is currently taking a loaf of bread out of the cupboard, carefully kept in a sealed Tupperware box. It's one of the few luxuries they can afford to eat regularly, probably because it's so easy to produce on a mass scale, even if people hiss and spit at you for even thinking of the stuff. Sometimes Whiz wonders if he and Frederic are the only two people still buying and eating carbohydrates in the health-centricity that is today's food culture.
He pops two slices in the toaster for Mara, and then shrugs and pops one in for himself. He presses the button before going for the fridge to grab the margarine that tastes almost as plastic as it is.
It's then that he hears the tell tale tinkle of the vid cam being switched off and wonders for a moment when the two said goodbye. He shrugs and goes back to his toast.
There are barefooted steps beside him, and he he can see Mara leaning against the wall in his peripheral vision.
“Toast'll be ready soon,” he says, without looking up. Mara doesn't reply for a moment, and a silence settles over them, heavy and unwanted, but at the moment it seems to be around more than ever.
“Whiz?” Mara says, when the silence get's too much. Her words are careful, and Whiz turns to look at her as he places his toast on two separate plates.
“Yeah, Mar?” he questions, sounding to his own ears like he hasn't gotten much sleep recently. He's not really sure wHether he has or not, he's stopped paying attention.
“You're still coming to the Ankora Party, aren't you?” she asks, stepping forward to retrieve her toast.
Whiz blinks and then takes his own toast, leaning against the cabinet. “Yeah, sure I am. Why do you ask?” he says, taking a bite of his toast and not meeting her eyes.
She shrugs. “I don't know, you just haven't been very interested in coming to Ankora's recently, just thought maybe someone'd upset you or something,” Mara says, casually before taking a big bite out of her toast. “Guess it was nothing.”
“Yeah, everything's fine,” he says, taking another bite of his toast, because really, how was he suppose to tell her that the person who'd upset was standing right in front of him?
“So you're still coming?” she reaffirms, and Whiz nods, taking the last bite of his toast and dropping the plate back onto the table, to clear up later. She sends him a big grin and claps her hands together. “Great, I said we'd meet Shannon there at eight,” she tells him, already bouncing off- to get ready for the day, no doubt, leaving Whiz alone in the kitchen, with that annoying, curling creature in the pit of his stomach again.
“Yeah... of course we are,” he says, quietly to himself, reaching for the dirty plates to clean.
Next Chapter>>
Chapter 14.
Morning Routine And Conversations Over Toast.
So, a week comes and passes, a sequence of days that should be so familiar to Whiz: get up, get dressed, go to work at a job where everyone hates him because no one trusts a guy with optical implants, meet Mara at the Agency, go to Ankora’s; go home with Mara, stay up watching bad TV, with Mara practically asleep across his lap, go to bed, rinse and repeat five days a week.
And yet- his entire routine seems to have changed. All in course of a damned week.
Now he wakes to the sound of Mara giggling from the living room, loudly, as if she’s the only person in the entire apartment and there’s nothing else in the world that could possible be funnier than whatever the hell she is saying on the other end of vid screen.
He gets up and slings on his dressing grown, tied loosely around his waist and head into the living room, because he wants something to eat before he gets ready, not because he wants to hear Mara laughing with someone who isn’t him, laughing with the bright smile usually reserved for him and-
He shakes his head at himself, it’s not his place, it never really was his place to want that all to himself. Mara never wanted him, not like that.
He crosses his arms across his chest and wanders into the living room- where Mara is sprawled across the sofa, her black jersey pyjamas hang loosely off her frame as she grins at the television- where Shannon is currently sat, dressed in her work clothes, smiling as well.
He sighs, hoping it just sounds like tiredness. “Morning, Mar,” he says, as he wanders across to stand beside the television.
Mara turns to look at him. “Morning Whiz,” she says, sounding chirpy, not like her usual morning self, and Whiz knows that’s because she’s probably already been up an hour so so- chatting to Mole.
He’s found it’s a new segment to their routine: get up, get dressed, listen Mara flirt mercilessly with her prospective new girlfriend. Mara just smiles at him like nothing in the universe could ever be wrong. “Seriously Whiz, you have got to listen to what Shan found the other night it’s-”
“I’m sure it’s very interesting,” Whiz replies, shortly, trying to not to think about the fact it used to be Whiz that she’d talk about, her eyes bright and happy. “But I’ve got to make breakfast, want some toast?” he asks , not looking at her as he strides quickly towards the kitchen.
“Oh... yeah, sure,” she says, sounding just a little put out. Whiz shakes it off, sure Shannon can cheer her up again.
Their kitchen isn’t very big, containing just a few counters with an old fridge, coffee maker, microwave and an oven scattered between them. There are a couple of cupboards off to the side filled with boxed spices and dehydrated foods. Off to the side is a slightly battered food synthesiser, peeping happily at him. If it were up to Whiz, they’d always use the food synthesiser, but food data chips are expensive compared to dehydrated foods and ready meals, even if they are cheaper than fresh food it’s still pretty difficult to find cheap ones that don’t taste like the synthetic liquids they’re made from.
And anyway, Mara likes the taste of ‘real food’ every so often and Whiz...well...
Well Whiz likes to bake the occasional cake, okay? There’s nothing wrong with it, and they taste damned good considering the ingredients available.
The man in question is currently taking a loaf of bread out of the cupboard, carefully kept in a sealed Tupperware box. It's one of the few luxuries they can afford to eat regularly, probably because it's so easy to produce on a mass scale, even if people hiss and spit at you for even thinking of the stuff. Sometimes Whiz wonders if he and Frederic are the only two people still buying and eating carbohydrates in the health-centricity that is today's food culture.
He pops two slices in the toaster for Mara, and then shrugs and pops one in for himself. He presses the button before going for the fridge to grab the margarine that tastes almost as plastic as it is.
It's then that he hears the tell tale tinkle of the vid cam being switched off and wonders for a moment when the two said goodbye. He shrugs and goes back to his toast.
There are barefooted steps beside him, and he he can see Mara leaning against the wall in his peripheral vision.
“Toast'll be ready soon,” he says, without looking up. Mara doesn't reply for a moment, and a silence settles over them, heavy and unwanted, but at the moment it seems to be around more than ever.
“Whiz?” Mara says, when the silence get's too much. Her words are careful, and Whiz turns to look at her as he places his toast on two separate plates.
“Yeah, Mar?” he questions, sounding to his own ears like he hasn't gotten much sleep recently. He's not really sure wHether he has or not, he's stopped paying attention.
“You're still coming to the Ankora Party, aren't you?” she asks, stepping forward to retrieve her toast.
Whiz blinks and then takes his own toast, leaning against the cabinet. “Yeah, sure I am. Why do you ask?” he says, taking a bite of his toast and not meeting her eyes.
She shrugs. “I don't know, you just haven't been very interested in coming to Ankora's recently, just thought maybe someone'd upset you or something,” Mara says, casually before taking a big bite out of her toast. “Guess it was nothing.”
“Yeah, everything's fine,” he says, taking another bite of his toast, because really, how was he suppose to tell her that the person who'd upset was standing right in front of him?
“So you're still coming?” she reaffirms, and Whiz nods, taking the last bite of his toast and dropping the plate back onto the table, to clear up later. She sends him a big grin and claps her hands together. “Great, I said we'd meet Shannon there at eight,” she tells him, already bouncing off- to get ready for the day, no doubt, leaving Whiz alone in the kitchen, with that annoying, curling creature in the pit of his stomach again.
“Yeah... of course we are,” he says, quietly to himself, reaching for the dirty plates to clean.
Next Chapter>>