Sighing, Cyrin turns and walks back into the room, grabbing his phone and waking back out, “I’m going out. That’s what.” He mutters, looking at the screen and typing, “I’ll see you later.”
Cyrin wanted nothing from anyone at the moment, and sits down on a bench. Though his didn’t have his shoe’s while dancing, his feet didn’t hurt as much as he thought they would. He takes a drink from a bottle of water that was from the friends behind the front desk, quiet for a moment. He looks at the time, frowning when he saw how late, or, well, early it was. He hadn’t realized he’d be up so long.
He looks out the windows, seeing a few people passing by and then sighs. He grabs his phone, pocketing it and walks outside, locking the doors, and deciding he’d stay outside and go to a park instead.
Arthur went about his day as normal. By the time late afternoon had rolled around, he was back in his usual spot at the mall, people watching.
People's quirks were so funny sometimes.
Cyrin sat on a bench, leaning back and reaching on his phone. Honestly, he should parable go home, shower and change. But he wasn’t feeling very up to the task of, one: walking home and, two: standing in the shower for the time it would take to wash himself. He sighs, standing, but he was going to do it anyways, because he smelled of salt and sweat. Not the best combination.
He stretches for a moment and then sets off at a jog, going back home to his tiny apartment. And, thinking about apartment, hadn’t Arthur told him to move in last night? Or was it tonight? He didn’t remember, he would have to ask him. But that would mean seeing him, and Cyrin didn’t want to see anyone. He really just wanted to be alone, or with his parents.
Arthur was in the mall till it closed, before driving home. Video games and disappearing into his mind castle ensued, and the evening of a full day approached.
Cyrin had gotten out of the shower, feeling a little better than before, and decided to go see his parents for the evening. His mother was doing better and worse at the same time. She had eaten dinner, but hadn’t stopped crying since lunch time. He had done his best to comfort her, and slowly, the tears had ceased.
He had just gotten home and he looked at his apartment, then down to his phone, debating for a moment. He sighs, texting Arthur; You said move in last night, but we got sidetracked, how about this weekend?
Arthur was just relaxing, when his phone buzzed. He checked it, and smiled to himself.
Sounds good to me, buddy. You ok? Last night ended kinda weird.
I’m fine. Just needed fresh air and relaxation. Which was true, though the nightmare was like a brand in his mind, he still felt calm and refreshed, even if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He casts a quick look to his bed, contemplating. He’d take a quick power nap and then go to his dance lesson. Then he’d go out fir dinner with a few of his friends who had pestered him about it until he relented.
Feeling much better already. Just a bad dream, is all
Glad you're ok. Hit me up whenever you wanna move in, I'll have the doors unlocked and ready for you.
Play aloof. As long as Cyrin was still talking to him, no need to push things just yet.
Cyrin sighs, Like I said, this weekend. Saturday, noon.
He tosses his phone down. Walking over to his bed and flopping down, closing his eyes and passing out.
The rest of the week passed relatively quickly for Arthur. Uneventful, even.
He headed out to the state park that evening after the text from Cyrin, and was gone the rest of the week. The Wolf ran things till Saturday morning rolled around.
He got back to his apartment and flopped onto the couch, ready for whatever the day brought.
(I may have gotten a bit carried away—)
Cyrin had spent the rest of the week putting things into neatly organized boxes. In this tiny apartment, it seemed to over flow with stuff. But he knew in the new one, it would probably look sparse. He digs through his desk that was way to big for the space. He pulls the art supplies out, coughing softly at the cloud of charcoal dust that rises to meet him when he dumps the drawer.
He looks at the expensive and abandoned art supplies, sighing softly, and then carefully going through them and throwing away the used or broken things. He then sorts them into a container and puts it into a box, and her goes through the rest of his drawers. After he finished, he looked at the desk, sighing softly. The bigger furniture woul have to wait he supposed.
The desk was his last thing to pack, and he had gotten up earlier that morning to pack it before noon. He sits down on his bed, looking at the time and then laying a game on his phone. At about 10:30, he gets up calling one of his friends. After about twenty minutes, his friend knocks on the door and Cyrin hugs him, “Thanks for this. . . I really need to use your truck for this move, Avdey.”
They spend the next forty minuets packing Cyrin’s boxes into the truck. Cyrin slides into the passenger seat, giving the directions and then spending the drive talking to Avdey. His friend had just gotten back from a seclusive honey moon with his new wife, and Cyrin filled him in on what had been happing. Cyrin knew they were each other‘s ride or die, but no one else really knew how close the two boys were.
Being complete opposites, everyone had expected the two boys to not get along when Avdey had moved to town in 7th grade, but instead, the two boys took a liking to each other. Cyrin was a dancer and an artist. He dealt with the arts. While Avdey on the other hand, was a martial artist. Most people thought that a calm and cool headed dancer and someone who had anger issues and fought for a living would never get along, but most people didn’t know that the things they learned were very similar.
Avdey’s face some red at Cyrin’s news about his sister, and he gave his apologies. But at the description of the nightmare, the other man looked at him, “I’d be careful around that man, Cyrin. You’re too easy to trust people. Especially someone’s who randomly shows up in your life and only a few days later, you’re sister’s dead, torn apart, and then you visit that new person in your life, and have the very first bad dream about her death at his place. And he’s somehow awake when you leave the room. And I know your silent as fuck when you do stuff like that.”
Cyrin sighs, “You’re superstitious Avdey. I’m fine.”
Avdey just hummed and looked forward, parking the truck outside the apartment complex.
(Lol, so did a word count thing, and apparently that 512 words-)
(working on a response. does this mean your inspiration is back a bit? :D )
(Idk? Usually I can almost ways write that much when my character is flying solo, but most of the times, I reply with what I'm given. I think what happend was slowly,each of our replies got shorter and shirtter, leading us to one liners)
Arthur had spent a couple of hours making sure the apartment was clean, and the lease was drawn up normally. He made sure the price he'd listed for Cyrin was correct, and just generally got things ready for someone to move in.
He'd contacted a moving company from the next town over, and was planning on having them help Cyrin move his furniture. If the dancer would let him help this way.
He was waiting in his own apartment at noon, when a truck pulled up. It looked like Cyrin in the passenger's seat, so Arthur headed down to meet him.
He'd brought a friend, which was perfectly fine, and Arthur smiled at them both as he walked out the front door of the apartment building.
"Hello! Welcome home, Cyrin!" He grinned, and gave a small wave to the driver. "Hey there, I'm Arthur." He turned to Cyrin again. "The apartment is all ready and clean and stuff, the lease is ready and just needs your signature, and I've got a big truck ready to get all your bigger furniture and move it in here." A glance at the back of the truck showed no furniture, just lots of boxes. "Want help carrying stuff up?"
(all good, not a problem, youre ok. as long as you're good with where we are now :)
Cyrin sat in silence for a moment, turning to Avdey, "Just. . . Be nice, will you?"
Avdey huffs, getting out of the truck, "I'll be nice if he's nice. Itherwise, I'll find a way to kick his ass. And he better be nice to you to."
Cyril laughs, opening the door and climbing out. There was no trace of the nightmare of sleepless two nights that had followed it. Not even dark circles under his eyes. He smiled at Arthur before moving to the back of the truck.
Avdey looks at Arthur, his face blank with no emotion, "I'm Avdey." He follows Cyrin, standing next to him.
"It's more than it looks like. But if you wanna help, you can. Though Avdey might bite your head off." He smiled at Arthur over his shoulder before grabbing a box and lifting it. "Each box is carefully lbed, and my art stuff is fragile and expense, so if you pick up a box with art stuff in it, please be very careful."
(Yeah, I am)
The friend looked… surly, and Arthur made sure to keep smiling at him.
Internally, Sixclaw was telling him to snarl and smack that stupid expression off his face, but Arthur knew assaulting Cyrin's friends wasn't the way to go. In his presence, anyway.
"Arthur. Nice to meet you, Avdey." He kept the smile in place, despite Avdey looking like he just wanted to punch him.
He nodded quickly and carefully lifted a box out of the back. "I'll just be careful with all of it, how's that? Come on up, I have your door open and ready for you." He turned and headed into the building, holding the elevator open for the two fellas.
He had no plans for anything but niceness to Cyrin today, unless the evening progressed, but… with Avdey there, he rather doubted anything would happen.
That was fine, though, because with Cyrin moving in, the fly was that much closer to the web. He'd get him eventually.
Davey nods, so long slightly, "Mhmm. . ." He turns, contemplating the boxes in the back of his truck.
Cyrin grabs a box, following Arthur, "Thanks for helpibg. It wouldn't have taken long without your help, but we should be done in thrity minutes or so with your help." He hums softly to himself and then calls over his shoulder, "I know what you're thinking Avdey, do not try to carry two boxes at the same time. If you break my shit, I'll break your face."
Avery laughs, grabbing a box and following, "You wish, dancer. You'll probably end up breaking you fragile and delete fingers before you break my face."
Cyrin laughs siftly, stepping into the elevator with Avdey. Leaning back against the wall, closing his eyes.