Accentuate the Accent

Time for Work

There should be something about dreams as a warning. Some dreams to believe on a short list, and the ones to ignore on a longer list. You have a hard time finding this difference.

Morally, it wasn't a bad dream, but having to remember the odd sentimentality... that felt like a sin. It was so warm, so happy in a house that was not yours. There were people; it was festive. You felt alive. You didn't recognize the faces of many individuals, but one stuck out to you immediately. Abraham.

You'd danced with him many times that dream night. You couldn't hear anything but the Christmas-y music in the background. As of now you're washing your face with cold water, mumbling into the freezing liquid. His eyes were so blue... Were they blue in the real world? You hadn't taken much time to acknowledge the many obvious attractive aspects of this man.

Hell, you're too intimidated by just his accent if I'm honest. There's a chill down your spine when you remember just how struck you are by his verbal eloquence. Now you're stuck with a family of them? Oh boy...

Focus, ____, you've a job to do. You sigh, granted not until Monday. For now, you plan on sleeping this Sunday away. There isn't much money for you to buy food this week. You showered last night, though briefly, and it isn't as cold as it was yesterday. You'd be fine wrapped up in your blankets burrito-style.

A part of you feels bad that you've taken up a job from an ex-customer and you'd be... getting PAID by him. What a near exasperating twist. Blessing in disguise or trouble, you'd take the notion with a large sum of salt. You can't mess this up or whatever trust he's instilled in this will dissolve. You can feel it.

When you wake up the first time during your slumber marathon, your phone has two messages. Shit, you mutter. You never charged it. Plugging it up from the wire you're always misplacing, you unlock it and scroll through the messages.

Abraham mentions his gratitude and you're almost reminded of the dream. But who are you kidding? You'd have a hard time admitting that you would not use the dream as fuel for slumber. He also mentions that on Monday when you first pick up the kids, you should take them to the costume shop.

Pick up the kids... you read the message over and over in your mind and you're shaken by it. He certainly has a straightforward way of explaining things. It makes you confused. You reply that it'll be done, and you apologize for answering back so late. If anything, the hour or so ago that you received the text, he was on a break.

You're sure he'll read your reply after work or something... You didn't feel so sure anymore. You turn back over and sleep, despite your best efforts to stay awake in hopes he replied back.

Your next waking moment is actually quite early in the morning. Your phone tells you it's five. With a soft groan, you get up and stretch. It felt great to wake up after resting for so long. Of course there's a part of you that'll hate all the sleep. Your sleep s schedule would be ruined otherwise. You'd work throughout it. You shower and find something to eat when your phone rings about six.

It's Abraham. With a fit of clearing your still groggy throat, you answer.

"Morning, ____. I hope you don't mind the early call. I gotta ask ya ta come ov'r soon." Your mind reels. "Eridan is usually the last one for school, but I needa get 'em outta that habit. Would you mind?"

Well, despite the fact you've nothing to do at home, and doing anything for him regarding his kids WAS your job, you find it's no problem. "I'll be over as soon as traffic will allow."

He thanks you and hangs up. Guess your work day is starting early. A firm twenty minutes later, you find yourself walking back along the subways, remembering your way from before. There's a lot of people rushing to get to work and school, you're sure. You nearly miss the staircase for his street.

You bump into someone as they turn for the subway stairs. You apologize, but they pat your head and shove their hand back into their leather jacket pocket. "Cronus!"

"Mornin', {n/n}. Pops and Eri are still at home if that's who you're after." You nodded and waved them off for whatever they had planned today. You remember they don't start college until spring.

Oh, you notice the back of their head amongst the crowding staircase. Adorable, they had purple ear muffs to match that scarf. You remember the task at hand and rush to the street with the door numbered 337.

Before you get to knock, the door opens. You're astonished to see Eridan looking so upset, but you find it understandable.

"Ya didn't need to come over to get me ta go ta school. I'm goin'." He pushed past you gently. You watched him storm away down the street. Did he walk to school? Maybe he just didn't want to take the train. You decide to close the front door he left open and leave, but your name is called from inside.

"Y-yeah?"

"Come in an' close the fuckin' door - it's cold." You did as prompted, you suppose. He sounds grumpy. He had a mug of coffee in his hand while he sat at the dining table. It smelled sweet and not at all like coffee ground liquid. Maybe Cronus tried to alleviate his aggravation.

"Morning," you meekly manage, taking off your boots and leaving them by the door like before.

"Didn't mean ta yell at ya. Just... had enough a that boy's shit. Stays up all night, talkin' to his friends when he sees them at fuckin' school," he takes a swig of his coffee. "Doesn't get enough sleep and wakes up with that shit faced attitude."

You nod your head slowly, not really having room to say anything else. You sit across from him like last time and he rubs his face. It isn't long before his face is buried in his crossed arms. This is a new look for the rather stoic, postured man.

You figured you could talk to Eridan later to help the situation a bit in an easier favor. For now, you supposed conversation could do well to wake him up.

The morning goes by smoothly; he even offered you a cup of coffee. You decline politely. He probably doesn't make it as wonderfully rich as Cronus does. Speaking of which, the door opens and you hear a small "brr... Christ." You turn to the doorway and see Cronus shimmying from their outerwear.

"Ah, you're still here? Good, can ya help me with somethin'?" You're a little surprised. Abraham had left the dining room about five minutes ago, to get ready for work you assume. You shrug and follow Cronus into the kitchen.

"Pops' early days are Monday's, so I try an' make something edible. What to make is the problem though." You hummed. They had an array of veggies and small packs of meat. You could already see somethings forming in your minds eye, but to hell if you knew how to make them.

You baked after all. You suggested something with the corn beef and they nodded. "A favorite, if I'm bein' honest."

The hustle to put everything in the pantry and fridge or freezer is cut short when Abraham returns to say goodbye to Cronus. "I expect ya ta behave, Cro. ____, you can stay if you've got nothin' else ta do. I do need ya ta make sure Cronus picks up Eridan this time."

You hear a groan from Cronus, but it's curt, short. You nod and accept the offer to stay. When Abraham leaves, Cronus does, too, up to their room in silence.

Well, you supposed you could count the pieces of fabric in the fucking carpet while you're here. What else is there for you to do?