Dola had encountered more than her fair share of awkward meals in her lifetime; showing up to her ex’s thanksgiving because she forgot they’d broken up being one of them, but the meal she was now having sat between her familiar that she’d acquired a year ago and the one she’d acquired in a drunken daze the night before was definitely working it’s way right up the list.
Eirlan had been pouting because the breakfast he’d prepared earlier for his new boss had been such an egregious violation of what one might consider food that Fylson, her unexpected current familiar, offered to remake the meal. Fylson, as unpleasant as he had a habit of being, was an amazing cook, Michelin star chefs had been brought to tears by the man’s food, but he would complain and groan before, during and after every meal that he prepared. Fylson, in fact, was so annoying about cooking that Dola just ate frozen meals most of the time. You could imagine how surprised Dola was when she stumbled out of her bedroom, aching head and feeble, queasy stomach in tow, to find Fylson humming in the kitchen over a delicious smelling dish, wearing the ruffled, sunshine yellow, pink polkadot monstrosity of an apron that her mother had bought her for her birthday.
“You’re up.” Fylson beamed as Dola stepped into the room, his usually gloomy demeanor replaced with a bright smile and an overzealous wave as he motioned for her to sit at the table. Looking to the table that was cramped in the doorway of her apartment, she found that Eirlan had been there, his head hung over the food that he’d made for her in defeat. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to eat the food when he’d brought it to her earlier, she’d been touched that the first thing he thought to do was make her a meal, but the smell of the dish had immediately triggered her gag reflex. How Eirlan had managed to make eggs and toast smell that rancid, neither Dola or Fylson could put together. They tried not to think about it.
“Feeling better?” Fylson sang with a bright smile as he turned from whatever he was making and pulled out a seat at the cramped dining room table that had been jammed into the corner near her door, the table the Eirlan had been sulking at one end of, staring down at his own failed dish.
Dola couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Fylson had hit his head as she slid into the seat that he’d pulled out for her, eying him hesitantly. It seemed to her that she blinked and then a dish was being placed down in front of her; home fries, sunny side up eggs and sliced avocados with a fancy herb garnish. It was really quite nice… It was really quite creeping her out.
She must have looked impressed by the dish because when she looked up Fylson was glowing with pride and Eirlan looked more than a little bitter.
As if to rub it in, Fylson placed a dish in front of Eirlin as well.
“Don’t worry I made something for you too.” Fylson beamed, sliding a plate of untoasted white bread in front of him. Eirlan watched frowning as Fylson grabbed a plate of hashbrown and eggs for himself and dragged a spare seat from the living room to sit between Dola and Eirlan at the cramped dining room table.
“How hospitable of you.” Eirlan replied with a strained smile, looking at the unimpressive, suspiciously green spotted bread on his plate.
“I know. I’m just a stand up guy, right Dola?” Fylson grinned at him waiting for her to reply, but she wasn’t stepping in that.
“And yet you’ve not done a single dish and have left the kitchen a mess.” Eirlan scolded when Dola didn’t speak, trying to sound as if he wasn’t feeling bitter about the entire situation .
“Dishes are for the end of the meal. Besides, usually Dola does them if I cook.” Fylson shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of his own food.
“Making your superior clean up your mess? I could never be so bold.” Eirlin mumbled, trying to make it look as if he were talking to himself when he was clearly taking a dig at Fylson.
“Well Dola and I are more than Familiar and Superior. We’re closer than that and have an understanding, right Dola?” Fylson fired back, looking to Dola who shoveled more food into her mouth, motioning that she couldn’t answer, while Eirlan scoffed in dismissal.
“An agreement that I’m sure you complained for until she agreed to it, am I not right, my liege?” Eirlan shot back, looking to Dola to agree with him.
Dola sat with her mouth open for a moment looking between the two of them as they both watched her with expectant eyes.
She was too hung over for this.
“Wow, would you look at the time, I have to start getting ready for work.” She choked out, lying-ly until her eyes landed on the clock in the kitchen, “Oooh. Crap!” She hissed, stubbing her toe on the leg of the table as she hurried to her feet,, “I actually do have to get ready for work, I’m going to be late!” She scrambled to her feet and into the cluttered hallway.
“Do you need an escort?” Eirlan asked, trailing after her as she darted for her bedroom.
“She’s an adult, why would she need an escort?” Fylan scoffed, bitter that he didn’t offer first.
The two were like shadows outside of the door as Dola scrambled from the bedroom into the bathroom with the clothes she’d yanked out of her closet. She slammed the door on their faces as they vied for her attention.
Dola rushed into the shower while they shouted through the door. One of them offered to make her lunch, one offered to shine her shoes, one offered to take down competition in her workplace-
As she listened to them bickering outside of the bathroom door, she couldn't help but be reminded of those videos of clingy pets on the internet that needed to be with their human at all times.
She brushed her teeth in the shower (listen it was water efficient and she was in a hurry, it happens), gelled and yanked her hair into a low kinda-bun, and by the time she jumped into her outfit and swiped some eyeliner over her eyes, her two familiars were about two seconds away from a full on yelling match in the hall.
Fylson was in Eirlan’s face with a vein popping from his neck as they argued, Eirlan’s face was red as he squared his shoulders, clearly trying to look unaffected, but also like he was ready to deck Fylson. Dola’s neighbor to the right was slamming on the wall telling her to quiet down, her upstairs neighbor was stomping with the same sentiment, Eirlan and Fylson kept arguing, Dola’s head throbbed with hangover an irritation, pressure built behind her eyes and she… just-
“SHUT UP!!!” As if by magic, and most likely because they had to listen to her because they were familiars and all, Fylson and Eirlan’s mouths both snapped shut as they turned to her with wide, shocked eyes.
“Sit down and listen up!” Dola demanded, pointing at the dining table.
Marching like good little soldiers, the two men spun on their heels and sat down at the table looking at her as if she was going to tell them the meaning of life.
“Now,” Dola started, not too sure what she was going to say now that she had commanded them to listen, “If we’re not reporting this, mix up which I haven’t decided if I am reporting it or not,” Dola clarified, “we can’t be arguing. The neighbors think I live here alone and the building manager will kick me out if you two make a fuss, not to mention, I don’t want to be responsible for you two if all you’re going to do is argue!” Dola crossed her arms over her chest and rested back on her heels.
The two men looked from her to one another, giving each other a sharp look before looking back to her and nodding, looking a little ashamed.
“Good.” Dola nodded, satisfied with her skills in mediation,” Now shake hands.” She commanded, and thought they both looked annoyed, they did it… they had to after all, it was in the contract.
“Good!” Dola clapped her hands together, “Now I’m going to go to work and you two are going to get to tackle the chores for the day.”
“Chores?” Eirlan nodded, “I can do that.”
“Wait ‘til you see her weird ass list.” Fylson snorted, earning a look from Dola that made him shrivel up in his seat, but she let it slide. It was better for him to rib at her like he always did rather than argue right out with Eirlan when none of them were really sure what was happening here.
“My list might be weird, but it still has to get done and if we’re going to be trying this thing, this all of us being roommates thing, the chores have to get done, so get them done and I’ll see you guys tonight.” Dola retorted, feeling like she’d made a pretty good argument as she looked between the two who were still forced to listen to her.
Feeling proud of herself, Dola grabbed her keys, trusting that they would work things out, rather than risk being kicked out or fired from a job that they both seemed to want for some reason.
Fylson and Eirlan watched as Dola stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her mumbling about how she was too tired for this today.
The two blinked as the upstairs neighbor yelled for her to stop slamming the door. They sat in silence for a long moment, unmoving as the compulsion to ‘sit there and listen’ as Dola had instructed wore away slowly and they could do little more than sit there and think about their lives.
“So… Why does she work if The Company pays her?” Eirlan ventured to ask when the silence became unbearable.
“The Company hadn’t paid her yet. She’s not the best at this gig.” Fylson shrugged thinking back to the first gig she’d accepted to ‘Make the world a better place’. She was supposed to buy a kid an ice cream cone after the kid dropped his own cone and it ended with the kid throwing a cone at Dola and Fylson having to remind her that fighting a 12 year old is probably frowned upon.
“I see.” Eirlan blinked, unsure about this set up now.
“I get it if you’re scared and you want to run back to the organization though.” Fylson smiled, looking angelic and mischievous at the same time.
“Not a chance.” Eirlan returned the smile. Back home he might have lived in a sprawling mansion and had servants of his own, but when he thought of the big empty halls, and the portraits of his very accomplished ancestors looking solemnly down at him, at his mother’s stern face at the other end of a very long dinner table… He would rather stay here as long as he had to than to return after a few hours to disappoint her.
“Well, we better get a start on the chores then.” Fylson sighed, getting to his feet and stretching before looking hesitantly to Eirlan, “You gonna wear that to go out?”
Eirlan rolled his eyes before watching Fylson and how comfortable the other man was in this world. If Fylson, the embarrassment of his class, could make this work, Eirlan was quite sure that he could.
Nothing like a bit of unearned confidence, huh?
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