Mistakes Made ✅

Chapter 10: Itched

As much as Errol was grateful for Jordie's offer of shelter, the ceaseless tug at his heartstrings remained. Clearly enough, it was all Jordie's idea, and Errol simply acceded to it on two reasons; to shut him up as well as to see whether the boy was being sincere. If there was another reason as to why he agreed to go along Jordie's offer, it was that there was no repudiating the uncomfortability of sleeping in the food parlour's kitchen.

Not that Errol was going to admit that to Jordie.

Really, Errol didn't want to feel like he was invading a personal space by dwelling in Jordie's apartment. According to the boy, Errol was allowed to stay for as long as he wanted, but it only took Errol until Monday before he voiced out his disquietude. He had been doing nothing over the weekend, except for wandering around when Jordie was out, his curiosity relentlessly piqued at how certain objects were relatively bizarre in the apartment.

There was the towel over the mirror, which Errol concluded was a considerably odd behaviour coming from Jordie. Apart from that, instead of owning stainless steel cutlery that reflected off images as they normally did, Jordie's drawers in the kitchen were filled with multicoloured ones made out of polystyrene. Nothing glossy nor reflective at all.

Steel cutlery can be expensive anyway, right? he thought to himself.

Over the weekend with which Errol stayed there, he didn't dare query Jordie regarding his idiosyncrasies - particularly the reasons behind such oddities. Indisputably enough, they would only come out sounding exceedingly sensitive. Though, come Monday, he supposed it didn't matter. None of it looked like they were worth the concern, not when they seemed relatively negligible.

The two of them were currently up in the early morning of Monday, with Jordie sitting cross-legged on the couch, a bowl of cereals in his hand as he watched some cooking program on the television. Errol stepped into the living room, getting ready for his morning shift at the parlour, before he paused. He merely hovered by the doorframe, weighing up the matter - and a few other things too - that he needed to discourse with the boy.

"Gotta be frank," Errol spoke, proceeding into the room, "didn't take you for the colourfully-aesthetic type."

Jordie dragged his eyes from the screen to Errol. "What?" he said, his voice muffled by the volume of chewed food in his mouth.

"That pink spoon in your hand is pretty cute,"

Jordie held said spoon up as if he had just noticed it was there. "Thanks?"

"And the rest of your cutlery too,"

"You got a problem with my colourful stuff?"

"No, no, not at all," Errol remarked hastily.

Jordie squinted in his direction - looking cynical for some indecipherable reason - before he resumed to watch the cooking program, absentmindedly stirring the contents of his bowl.

"As a matter of fact, I think they represent you," Errol proceeded.

"Shut up, Balker,"

"I thought we bonded," Errol remarked, feigning hurt.

"Okay, so I like colourful stuff," Jordie finally said, getting to his feet to head towards the kitchen. "If they somehow blind your eyes like they do to Axel, you can just buy your own silver spoons."

"Nah, they're pretty cool, to be honest," Errol confessed. "Just ... you know, pretty rare at the same time."

Jordie delivered him a nonchalant shrug, walking past Errol as he made his way into the kitchen. Errol tailed after him, pinning his nametag on the right torso of his shirt. "I've been thinking ..." he began, feeling gauche all of a sudden.