this close to finding your place in this world…
It had been two days since Angel stumbled down the stairs at Caritas and we were finding ourselves in a quiet rhythm that just seemed to come naturally. Since I didn’t have class I studied while he slept, kept him company during the day - talking about just about anything that amounted to nothing - and just enjoyed the quiet when I wasn’t working at the club.
Everytime I went in, Lorne would smile at me and pat me on the shoulder, telling me I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t sure what he meant but as long as he was happy and I kept my job, I was happy.
”Make yourself useful, Tara. Always be useful.”
So that’s what I did. As Angel slept - after a bit of arguing that he wasn’t fully healed - I took over cleaning duties and scrubbed down the kitchen; thankful that I packed a pair of old jeans and bleach stained T-shirt. After much urging from Angel I started to feel a bit more at ease here, not asking if it was okay to use the kitchen or use the tea that was in the large office.
My hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail as I finished scrubbing down the last counter, the kitchen smelled of bleach, but the scent of the pasta sauce overpowered it and filled the room. Between cleaning I started dinner, the radio said that the rainstorm they were expecting was coming faster than predicted and the last thing I wanted was to have dinner only half done and most likely ruined if the power went out.
I stood and stretched, hearing my back pop a few times as I stood back up from cleaning the lower shelf of the counter, a soft sigh escaping my lips as I looked around the room and smiled at how nice everything looked. I managed to get the main hall mopped and the front desk cleaned before I came in here; I had plans for other rooms but between the time and the way my body felt. I was done.
Washing my hands I walk over to the stove and check the sauce, tasting that it was done before checking the pasta. A noise behind me startled me and I jumped, spinning around and sighing when I saw Angel standing at the door. “Hey,” I say, turning back to the pot and start the task of draining the pasta. “Sorry if I woke you, I t-tried not to. I wa-nted to get some things done before the storm hit, they say it’s going to be worse than they thought.” I shrug, putting the pasta in a large bowl and adding oregano before mixing it up. “Food is done but I’m going to change into something not bleach scented. I w-wasn’t sure where you wanted to eat so if you want to set us up…” I blushed slightly. “If you’re up for it and since you know where the plates are.”
Everytime I went in, Lorne would smile at me and pat me on the shoulder, telling me I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t sure what he meant but as long as he was happy and I kept my job, I was happy.
”Make yourself useful, Tara. Always be useful.”
So that’s what I did. As Angel slept - after a bit of arguing that he wasn’t fully healed - I took over cleaning duties and scrubbed down the kitchen; thankful that I packed a pair of old jeans and bleach stained T-shirt. After much urging from Angel I started to feel a bit more at ease here, not asking if it was okay to use the kitchen or use the tea that was in the large office.
My hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail as I finished scrubbing down the last counter, the kitchen smelled of bleach, but the scent of the pasta sauce overpowered it and filled the room. Between cleaning I started dinner, the radio said that the rainstorm they were expecting was coming faster than predicted and the last thing I wanted was to have dinner only half done and most likely ruined if the power went out.
I stood and stretched, hearing my back pop a few times as I stood back up from cleaning the lower shelf of the counter, a soft sigh escaping my lips as I looked around the room and smiled at how nice everything looked. I managed to get the main hall mopped and the front desk cleaned before I came in here; I had plans for other rooms but between the time and the way my body felt. I was done.
Washing my hands I walk over to the stove and check the sauce, tasting that it was done before checking the pasta. A noise behind me startled me and I jumped, spinning around and sighing when I saw Angel standing at the door. “Hey,” I say, turning back to the pot and start the task of draining the pasta. “Sorry if I woke you, I t-tried not to. I wa-nted to get some things done before the storm hit, they say it’s going to be worse than they thought.” I shrug, putting the pasta in a large bowl and adding oregano before mixing it up. “Food is done but I’m going to change into something not bleach scented. I w-wasn’t sure where you wanted to eat so if you want to set us up…” I blushed slightly. “If you’re up for it and since you know where the plates are.”