It's the Little Things. (Cracker x Mute Reader)

Everyone Likes Cupcakes

(A/n)
This was my first try at doing watercolor and ink in the same project. This one was quick, maybe took an hour to do. I don't have it on me but I think it was about the same size as a standard sheet of printer paper or something.

For story purposes, <> will indicate text talk.

You weren't a cat person, but the neighbor's new cat was a total sweetheart. She was an older woman, set in her prim and proper ways. She used to always talk about how having animals in the home was nasty and unnecessary, until she got Timmy that was. He was a cute little tuxedo cat, sweet as can be. Even the neighbor lady was unable to resist his charm, hence why he came home with her.

Her apartment was next to yours and you met the cat sitting out on her balcony while you were tending to the plants on yours. The talkative little guy wouldn't stop meowing at you until you reached over to give him some love. Since then, it had become a daily thing for the two of you. You'd go out to water and Timmy would be out on his balcony, expecting your company.

Eventually you decided he'd make a good model for a small project, so you snapped a picture of him with your phone and later found yourself painting him. It turned out cuter than you thought it would. Watercolor wasn't your usual media, neither was ink, but they felt like the right ones to use. Maybe you'd add the piece to your online shop and try selling prints of it.

It was part of how you made your living after all. You did all kinds of 2-d media and turned it all into prints, posters, or whatever people wanted. It was a great way to make a bit of extra money, but you never fully relied on it. No, your "real job" actually involved baking, which to be honest, was just as fun. You worked a sweets catering business right from the comfort of home and it was popular enough that it payed the bills.

The best part about your work was being able to stay home. Dealing with people all the time was a bit difficult to say the least so this ended up being a good solution. It wasn't anxiety or anything like that made them hard to work with. No, it was the fact that speaking was impossible. Most people called you mute and you let them. It wasn't the technical term for what your issue was but correcting strangers all the time got real old real quick.

It wasn't all bad though. Sure communicating was difficult at times, but you learned sign language to make things better and you always had a notebook app open on your phone to talk to people who couldn't sign. It got the job done at least.

Your neighbors knew about your issue and were polite enough about it. They never really talked to you much though, like they were afraid of offending or didn't quite know how to approach you. That is, except for two people in particular, the neighbor lady, Eleanor was her name, and a new neighbor down the hall, you hadn't caught his name yet. But he was an older man, older than you at least, he was taller than most people with long purple hair he usually wore up in a bun or ponytail and a large scar going across his right eye. He definitely wasn't bad looking.

He was more eccentric than you thought he'd be. He was happy to talk to any of the neighbors that he happened to come across, you included. In his daily chattiness, he hasn't ever given you a chance to explain your situation to him. He literally hadn't stopped to let you "talk" once, had no idea of your inability to do so, and he moved into the complex almost a month ago. The situation was almost laughable.

At first it drove you crazy, but you gave up on trying to get him to understand and just let him do whatever. It's not like you were required to let him know anyway.

A sharp knock came to your door, drawing you out of your thoughts. You wiped your ink stained fingers off on your jeans and nabbed your phone on the way to the door. Eleanor stood out in the hallway, dressed in a skirt and blouse that screamed old lady. Her perfectly styled brunette bob bounced as she let herself in.