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[sub][i][u]Location[/u]:[/i] Faraday; Flat 26B; Cat stretching into a new day
[i][u]Interacting With[/u]: Aila [sup][@Write][/sup]; Ethan [sup][@Undine][/sup][/i][/sub][/center]

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[i]"Sunday is gloomy, my hours are slumberless, dearest the shadows I live with are numberless. Little white flowers will never awaken you"

Billie's sweet words crooned in the static of the radio, edging the somber silence settled in the living room. Anna Ross—No, that's not right anymore. Anna Cooper sat on the opposite end of their ratty couch, a glass of gin in her hand and her legs tucked under her, hidden in sea green fabric. Her eyelids sat closed, soft in the yellow light hazing the room, and her voice came out in a hum that vibrated her throat. A light tinge of pink peaked from under her blush and a softer smile pursed her lips.

The comfortable quiet hanging in smoke clouds above them belied the situation none too well - why their hands filled with hard liquor. Daniel had been lucky enough to be stationed somewhere just outside of London, and even luckier to be stationed with Anna's newly wed husband. Why she wasn't with him, he couldn't... he didn't allow himself to decipher. He sat his hat on the coffee table in front of them and stood, a deep breath leaving in a shaky hiss. Anna looked up to meet his eyes.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she whispered, soft under the haunting voice of Billie Holiday. Daniel furrowed his brow and knelt down to see the bruise covering Anna's right eye; how hadn't he caught that? "It's really not that bad, Danny."

"The hell it isn't," he growled and stood in a stomp toward the fridge, "you don't understand. You're not a fucking MMA fighter, Ethan; you pick fights with these assholes and I can't be there all the damn time."

Ethan.

Daniel stopped, a pack of peas in his hand and turned around with a furrow in his brow. The boy in question stood now, petulant expression and his arms crossed over his chest. "They called you a goth fairy," Ethan's jaw clenched and he could see the smooth muscles of his face shift and flinch at the pain it caused him, "they egged your car. They were planning on jumping you after cla—"

"So you thought it was wise to take that beating for me?" Daniel cut him off, slamming the peas down on the table - it didn't quite make the noise he was going for.

"That's not... you don't understand—"

"Enlighten me."

"That's not. Daniel, stop patronizing me. I knew what I was doing when I approached them. I'd do it again. And again. And again. Don't give me that look. I'm not taking another lecture from you, when you're no [b]fucking[/b] better"[/i]

Breathe deep. One. Two. Three.

Second time that's happened in a week. Daniel pushed the heel of his palms into his eyes and let out a hissing yawn while he stretched. Cool air hit exposed skin, raising goosebumps along the flesh of his shoulder and arms and down his collarbones in a shiver. Another yawn racked his body as Daniel switched to lay on his stomach, feeling the long, deep, warming rush of blood running through to his toes and fingers and the deep pull of his muscles. His back cracked and his neck popped before he deemed himself moderately ready to dress and face the day.

He didn't - he wouldn't dwell on his dreams again. They didn't keep him up at night, which he took as a blessing (ironic) and they didn't exactly leave him hot and bothered and unable to look at his perfect, male specimen of a roommate in the eyes. Aila would catch that in a heartbeat, either chortle her way through the house or shoot him pitying looks. Daniel couldn't take either.

Scrunching on a sweater (jumper, they called it here), Daniel shuffled into the cold, hard wood floor of their living room-kitchen-dining room combo, saw Aila curled in on herself in the corner of the couch and immediately knew this wasn't a good day for anyone. He reached over the back to give the girl a peck on the head and snatch the remote from inside one of the seat cushions, turned on the news and smiled at the coffee laid out for him and Ethan. He wouldn't be at work today, at least not unless they called him in, which left him ample time to do... well, nothing. Probably why they liked to call him a cat; he took naps wherever he pleased, on top of whatever he pleased.

Taking a deep inhale of his coffee, Daniel immediately knew he'd need a few more. The snow raging outside meant he couldn't get in a smoke even if he could bare the frozen wasteland. It wasn't the 40s anymore and he'd likely get some kind of stern look from Ethan if he lit up inside. Aila wouldn't say anything, but Daniel wouldn't take the chance of making her uncomfortable, especially not looking like that.

"You eat, yet, Buttercup?" he called from his place on the kitchen's island, scooping his coffee up to plop down beside her. He didn't know if she needed space or not, so he kept close enough for comfort, but for enough away for... well.. comfort. His eyes roamed over her features, which didn't tell him much, but her stiff, shrunken posture hinted at some kind of discomfort. He wouldn't pry, that wasn't his job - he's not her therapist. "I'm sure I can snatch a few eggs before Ethan eats everything we'd stocked up on."