“Right, that way I don’t have to bend down so much,” Makai said, getting the idea. “That’s clever. I would’ve just stuffed the things wherever.”
“Thanks,” Emil said and smiled slightly. “If you think about what you want, where, I’ll move them for you. Oh, and I might need you to hang the basket thingies, because I can’t reach up there.”
Makai nodded and got up. “Let me hang them now so you can fill them if needed.”
Emil sneaked by him to get out of his way and went to get the two three-tier hanging baskets. They were the type Makai’s mother had in her kitchen too. Three baskets in each unit, different sizes so you could collapse them into a neat single pile. These were all made of wire, though, and when collapsed, they made just a plate-sized flat item that would fit practically anywhere. Makai liked that. He wondered if there was a name for them or if they were just called hanging baskets.
“Here’s the first one.” Emil handed him the black one, and Makai went to see if he needed string to hang it at the right height. He didn’t; he wanted it a bit higher anyway, but as he reached up to slide the top ring of the chain over the hook, his stitches pulled, and he hissed.
“Shit,” he ground out, and lowered his arm as soon as he could. “Give me the other one?” He held back a hand and got the red basket. This one he hung more carefully, rising on his toes rather than reaching with his arms. It helped some, but he could still feel the pull.
“Did you bust any stitches?” Emil asked quietly, waiting for him to go back to his seat before moving to the pantry.
“No, I don’t think so. Just forgot that I had them for a while.” Makai winced a bit, feeling the throb on his skin, and drank some more coffee. “It’ll be fine. I don’t feel them bleeding.”
Emil gave him a look of “if you say so,” and they got to work.
Half an hour later, most things were organized exactly how Makai wanted them and/or where Emil saw fit to place them.
Makai noticed the bag of oranges he’d bought and decided that since he didn’t have a fruit bowl, he could just hang them in the pantry baskets. He grabbed the bag, deciding that the black basket could hold fruit.
He stepped to the pantry and startled Emil, who jerked back, hit his shoulder on the doorframe, and yelped. And then went completely blank. It was as if someone had turned something off in Emil’s brain. His eyes were open, but it seemed like he didn’t see anything.
Slowly, Makai moved away to the opposite side of the kitchen.
“Emil,” he said in a louder than usual voice. “Emil? Can you come back to me? I’m sorry I startled you.” His heart was beating fast, and he felt like throwing up. The itchy feeling of an impending anxiety attack started to climb up and down his body. “Emil,” he said, the name snapping out of his mouth sharply without meaning to. He was panicking.
Emil jerked, then looked around and his eyes widened. “Shit,” he hissed, avoiding Makai’s gaze immediately.
“Come, sit on the couch for a while, okay?” Makai walked across the open layout to the armchair that’d come with the house. It wasn’t comfortable, but he could sit there to give Emil space.
Emil trembled now, but so did Makai’s hands.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Makai said. It was the only thing he could safely get out of his mouth right then. He felt like being sick again and found himself clutching his arms across his stomach as if to settle the horrible feeling inside.
Emil sat on the couch, looking small and vulnerable in a way Makai didn’t like at all. Emil had kicked off his shoes at some point, and now pulled his feet up on the couch and wrapped his arms around his folded legs.
“I….” Makai didn’t know how the sentence continued.
Maybe it was the change of the energy of the cottage, maybe something else, but a tentative little meow came from the end of the couch. Then Mouse jumped on the arm and peered at Emil on the opposite end.
Mouse meowed again, the sound oddly worried to Makai’s ears. Then she carefully walked across the couch to sit next to Emil.
When Emil didn’t seem to react to her, she glanced at Makai, then got up, placed her front paws on Emil’s arm, and carefully sniffed Emil’s face.
“It’s okay, Mouse. I’m okay,” Emil said so quietly, Makai had trouble discerning the words. “Go back to your babies.”
She didn’t. Instead, she lifted one paw and precariously balanced to tap Emil on the cheek, then made the small almost-meow again.
“I think she really wants to be sure you’re okay,” Makai said quietly, unable to not smile at her antics.
Emil relaxed then. Not fully, but his posture opened enough to let Mouse crawl onto his lap.
“This is about the chicken, isn’t it?” he spoke to the cat who purred loudly. “You just want to know the bringer of treats is okay.”
Makai forced himself to relax as much as he could.
“When I was seventeen, Dad was trying to figure out a way to find and bust this drug ring that was operating in the area. It was obvious there was someone cooking and dealing, because a couple of kids ODed, like kids I went to high school with in Mercer. Anyway, there was very little information. There’s a lot of fucking nothing around here.”
