STALEMATE [MAFIA] [MXM] ✓

30: BREAKFAST

When Salem wakes up the next morning, there's a dog.

The first thing he notices, is that Atlas is absolutely nowhere to be found. He frowns, and wonders if the guy actually did end up staying the night in a guest room. Salem's pretty sure he didn't, though, considering how well rested he feels. The only times he ever gets such quality sleep, are when he has Atlas there.

These concerns about Atlas' whereabouts leave him once he catches sight of the German shepherd on the bed, laying half on top of him. It's not small by any means, and when Salem sits up, he has the animal's full attention.

The head rush he gets from doing so almost makes him lay back down again, a wave of nausea hitting him. He grabs hold of the bed to stabilize himself, and blinks around the room.

It's really starting to set in that he is not in his house right now. He doesn't have Atlas as a safety blanket, either, since the guy decided to just go MIA this morning. Nope, Salem is alone in a mob house.

Salem glances at the dog's collar, and it's revealed that his name is Rocky. Atlas' phone number is along the band, which gives Salem the idea that this is probably Atlas' dog. It's what brings on his next question. "Where's your owner?"

Rocky doesn't answer him. Salem sighs.

Salem scratches behind the dog's ears, because that's about the only thing he can think to do. He's never had a pet, he's not good with animals by any means. He's surprised that this dog wants to be near him to begin with.

"Hey, um..." why does Salem feel awkward? It's a dog. "I need to get up. So..."

Rocky lays his head back down. Salem doesn't know what to do.

He can't help but wonder how long Atlas has had him. The guy never mentioned a dog when they were together, so it's probably been since the breakup. Perhaps he was looking for some sort of companionship? Atlas doesn't really have or want  friends, Salem's basically the only one that's ever gotten close to him, and probably one of the only people that have wanted to.

Salem slowly begins untangling his legs from the sheets, doing his best to not disturb the canine. He doesn't do a very good job, because after a moment, Rocky is staring at him again. When Salem does finally remove himself from Atlas' bed, and stand up, he's hit with a wave of nausea.

Salem can't get to the bathroom fast enough, walking towards the nearest door. For once luck is on his side, because out of the several other doors in the room, he chose correctly. He makes a beeline for the toilet, and spends the next ten minutes puking his stomach out.

When he's finally done, there's drool all over his face and his eyes are watery. Thankfully he does feel a bit better, at least internally, but he also feels gross now. He's all sweaty and everything.

Salem sighs, and when he looks at the doorway, he catches sight of Rocky staring at him. When they make eye contact, the dog tilts his head. Honestly, he looks genuinely concerned, but Salem could be wrong. He knows next to nothing about dogs. He's also never been around one this big before—Zona has one, but it's a little chihuahua.

Salem stands up, and Rocky does as well. His tail starts wagging, but Salem doesn't really pay attention. He walks to Atlas' sink and begins washing his face. He doesn't want to use Atlas' toothbrush—not because it grosses him out, but because they never set a boundary with that—so he basically squirts some toothpaste in his hand and sloshes it around in his mouth for a minute, then does the same with the mouthwash.