Skye Life: Knock Knock
Without Olin, Cyd’s mood was sour to say the least. It sucked not being able to travel with him on business, regardless of where he was going, and his presence was definitely missed at the rave. Working a double after a rave night with zero stress relief in-between had her coming home in rare form.
“Could you for once clear your shit off the table before I come home?” Cyd asked, shoving some of Serena’s things to the side.
“Could you for once not nag me the second you walk through the door?” Serena shot back, collecting her jacket and backpack.
Cyd set the bags on the table. Her feet ached from the double she’d just worked, her metro card wouldn’t go through so she’d walked home carrying dinner from the diner as well as the few groceries she’d stopped to pick up. “Wake Mathias, would you, let him know there’s food.”
Vas freshly cleaned from the sweat, dirty and dust came out of the shower. “You need help setting the table?” Vas offered hair still drying. “I got a couple of shifts today, I put the credits in the kitty.” He added rocking his head to the literal lucky cat cookie jar on a shelf. It was a modest contribution but regular work was hard for him to find. They way he said it was the least he could do.
Trashcat still, more fur then cat with big triangular ears was lording over the bed laying on Mathias back, perking when Serena walked in.
“Thank you, that would actually be helpful,” Cyd said pointedly, looking at Serena, who huffed in response.
Serena shot Vas a disgusted look, and went to the bedroom to wake up Mathias, when someone knocked on the door, four distinct taps. Not exactly pounding, but not gentle, either.
Vas paused looking at Cyd. “Anyone expecting company?”
Trashcat complained as Mathias got up. “Ugh … do we even have anyone we like that we would want over?” he asked shuffling out of the bedroom. “Man, I love beds.” He yawned his red hair in disarray. He shuffled is ass to the door making sure Mr. Wacky was within reach. He rubbed his eyes looking through the peephole.
A man with roughly Vas’ height and build stood on the other side of the door wearing a fitted black tee shirt and black cargo pants. His mirrored aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but he wore a serious expression. He knocked four more times on the door.
“What hell …” Mathias muttered wrinkling his nose. He opened the door, not all the way, but just enough for him to prevent someone from just rushing in. “You lost? Cuz whatever it is we are not interested and you most definitely have the wrong house.”
The man stuck his foot in the door to prevent it from closing. “Right house. I’m looking for Vas. He’s here.” He said matter-of-fact.