Foxx Honeywell hummed happily as he reached his apartment. He held the bag carrying his new knitting supplies tightly in one hand, while opening the door with the other.
Walking in, he paused in the hallway, and sat his bag down briefly to remove and hang up his outermost coat. Foxx had more to take off, but…he had yet to switch out his autumn coats for his winter ones, so there was no place to put the rest in the hallway closet.
Something he really should get around to doing soon because temperatures had plunged in the last few weeks. It was the twentieth of November and the sky, to Foxx’s ever growing horror, had decided to spew white stuff everywhere—ugh. He had to say, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually seen snow in person.
Leaving the hallway, he found Harlow sitting on one of the teal sectionals in the first half of Foxx’s living room. The human was, of course, reading one of his stupid newspapers—weirdo old man.
As he walked past, Harlow glanced up. Foxx ignored his ass and headed to the kitchen with his bag. Setting it on the island, he started to remove the rest of his layers.
The human’s gaze started to feel piercing by the third coat. Huffing, Foxx glared over his shoulder as he laid the last coat on top of the others he’d placed on one of the baby blue chairs. “What? What is it? Why are you staring?”
Harlow remained expressionless as he slowly said, “It’s thirty-five out…”
“Okay? And? It’s cold. I’m dressing appropriately.”
“It’s cold, but not cold enough for three coats.”
“Four.”
“Four, what?”
“Four coats. I removed the first layer and stored it in the hallway closet. I would have removed the others but there’s no room and the hangers are upstairs.”
Harlow stared for a moment, his expression still empty, before shaking his head and going back to reading his newspaper.
Judgey ass hunter. With a sniff, Foxx snatched his bag off the counter and made his way down the hallway off the kitchen. Taking the first door on the right, he flicked the light on and smiled happily at his sewing room.
The room had light blue walls and gray marbled carpeted floor. His left wall was basically an organized crafters wet dream. Built in cubby drawers in the wall, where his supplies were organized by item type and then color. Each one labeled. The drawers were framed in white marble, but had a pane of glass on the front so you could see what was inside. They were well sealed when closed, which kept out dust. Some had smaller organizers inside, for the things that weren’t yarn—like needles and thread, buttons, and all those odds and ends.
Against the right wall was a large, clear walk-in display case full of bolts of fabric. And on the wall with the door, sat a large antique mirror with a white ornate frame, along with two adjustable dress forms—one male, one female.
Opposite the door sat his white marble desk, cushy baby blue desk chair, and his blue sewing machine. He had hand painted fluffy white clouds on his sewing machine, and he had also officially named it Blu Stitches. Foxx had made it official by adding a label with the name on it. Besides all that, the only other thing in the room was his large corkboard, which hung on the wall above his desk. He liked to pin clothing ideas to it.
All the things came together into a room that was perfect in every way. It had all he needed—all he wanted. Except there were two things that shouldn’t have been there, two things that were out of place.
Foxx eyed the medium sized box on the floor before his gaze drifted up to the black cat figurine sitting near the edge of his desk. Approaching, he glared down at the thing.Harlow…that annoying ass old man, he thought with a hiss.
Foxx swiped the thing off his desk with a hmph, before he set his bag in its place. Pulling out his chair, he sat down. Foxx was determined to get some new jumpers made before work started up again. Which would happen soon.
Harlow had passed his physical last week, and they were now just waiting for the buttload of paperwork from their last disaster of a case to clear. Apparently, you couldn’t kill a ton of humans and just move on. Harlow, and Charity, for that matter, had failed to tell Foxx that not only did killing humans come with a ridiculous pile of paperwork, it also came with an annoying amount of down time. Because the government needed to say whether or not the killings were justified. Killing the fifty or so vampires had come with no questions whatsoever, but the fifty or so humans… Well,thosethe government had to make sure they deserved it.Because what if those humans had just somehow been innocently hanging out in that abandoned hotel next to the homicidal vampire cult? Foxx thought sarcastically. Fucking hypocrites.
Dumping the bag, he began to organize the new things he had purchased. But his eyes kept being drawn to the box on the floor. It was a nice box. It looked…sturdy. And while at first glance he had thought it was more medium sized, the longer he stared, the more he thought that it was actually quite large.
A thought popped into his head—I could fit. Well, maybe he could fit… No…he could fit. Foxx could almost picture it!
Shaking his head, he went back to sorting. But his hand paused on a ball of bright red yarn, his gaze being pulled towards the box.
Dammit—he had to know!
Clearing his throat, he stood and shuffled over. Once he was right beside it, Foxx looked down. There was nothing inside. The thought ofI can fitgrew stronger the longer he stared into the empty space.
He glanced towards the open door. Foxx rushed over and closed it. Spinning around, he marched over to the box and stepped inside. He stood there for a moment before giving in to his desires. Foxx scrunched down, letting out a happy giggle as he fit perfectly inside.
“I did indeed fit!” he said, a wide smile forming on his face.
“I KNEW IT!” Harlow bellowed from the other room.
Foxx’s eyes widened at the yell, his gaze falling on the downed cat figurine. Fury bubbled up as his eyes locked on a teeny tiny camera in the left eye of the cat. He had been tricked!
