Mr. Muffin Cakes' Lucky Break
Note: This log took place over AIM, so here it is in its completed form. That being said, feel free to comment on this post and tell us what you think!
TITLE: Mr. Muffin Cakes' Lucky Break
CHARACTERS: Marluxia (deceiverxi), Zexion (connivance)
LOCATION(S): Marluxia's house (#227) and garden
SUMMARY: Marluxia and Zexion go on a rescue mission to save Mr. Muffin Cakes.
RATING: PG
Megs (Zexion) says: I'm really liking this Muffin Cakes title idea. ;D
Nina (Marluxia) says: This was supposed to end differently, but we were at a loss trying to figure out how to make what we wanted happen. (Whoaaa, messed up sentence structure.) It's interesting enough, if you like Marluxia, Zexion, cats, and blood.
The cat had been gone since this morning, which was quite strange, considering he didn't return home for his midday meal. If nothing else, food would lure him back. At first, Zexion paid this no mind, assuming his precious Mr. Muffin Cakes had found something more interesting to do than lounge around the house all day.
When he walked outside to retrieve his mail, he half-expected to find the cat stuck in a fence again, wriggling about half-heartedly as usual. And while the sound of worried meowing was quite audible, there was no cat in sight.
There had been more than enough threats regarding his completely innocent pet from Marluxia in the past few days, generally revolving around the existence of man-eating plants. Zexion was hesitant to believe such outlandish claims, but he wasn't quite sure what else would cause his poor cat such suffering.
Deciding that the mail could wait, he walked across the lawn to the source of the crying and peered over the fence dividing their yards.
And oddly enough, there was the cat, writhing around amongst a strange collection of vines as an even stranger plant towered over him, almost as if it was watching, waiting to strike.
Zexion called out, but his cat couldn't free himself without help. And while being stuck in a fence was fairly safe, this was bordering on barbaric.
Feeling an odd sort of panic set in, he marched right up to Marluxia's front door and began to repeatedly ring the doorbell.
After a harrying minute or two, there was the sound of several locks and bolts being undone from the other side of the door. It cracked open, and a pink-haired man peered out. He seemed rather weary. His hair was a mess, and he was only wearing a pair of plaid navy sweatpants. It was obvious that he'd been woken up.
Upon seeing who it was, the man frowned, blinking several times as he opened the door a bit more. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he said, voice laced with drowsiness.
In a way, Zexion was pleased to find Marluxia in such a state. He certainly deserved to be disturbed after allowing an innocent cat to be subject to such danger.
"One of the unsightly mutations in your garden is attacking my cat," he answered quickly, irritation apparent in his voice. "Just what kind of monster are you keeping back there? This should be illegal."
Zexion stopped himself before launching into another tangent, as it could possibly put his cat's life, or at least well-being, into even more danger. He let out an agitated sigh and pointed towards the backyard.
"I would appreciate it greatly if you helped me retrieve my pet."
For a moment, Marluxia seemed confused, but the frantic mewling emanating from his garden finally seemed to register in his mind. Apparently, the cat had made it through the fence this time. How bothersome.
He sighed and stepped back, gesturing for Zexion to come in. "I'm afraid there's no way into the garden from the outside," he offered as an explanation, "for obvious reasons." The man stifled a yawn. It wasn't his fault that he'd been sleeping; after all, he'd been on duty all night, and he'd been looking forward to catching up on missed sleep this afternoon. Apparently, that wasn't going to happen.
Zexion quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him, then waited to be led outside. It seemed that Marluxia was in no hurry, which proved to be quite infuriating to Zexion.
"What are you keeping back there?" he asked, somewhat upset that his curiosity had gotten the best of him. Now really wasn't the time to ask, but he wouldn't have many more opportunities. The interior of the house itself seemed normal enough, though that couldn't be used to predict the contents of the garden.
Marluxia began to lead Zexion down the hall, shuffling along in his slippers. Suppressing another yawn, he glanced backwards at the shorter man to make sure he was following. "You'll see soon enough," he replied, not too keen on divulging every single species of plant within the garden.
Crossing through the kitchen to the back door, Marluxia paused only to procure a knife from one of the drawers. The sliding glass door opened out onto the deck, which was empty save for the flower boxes on the railing, along with the vines twining across the wood. At first, it seemed overgrown, but a second look revealed that it was done in quite an artful manner.
The high-pitched meowing was much louder out here, and sure enough, he could see that one of his plants was currently strangling his neighbor's cat. What a pity. The fat thing had long since grown tired of struggling and had instead resorted to crying for help. As for the plant, it was only one of the 'special' venus fly traps he had imported from an equally special facility.
Turning back to Zexion, the man said, "I don't quite fancy cutting up something as rare as that." It was clear that he was asking how he would benefit from rescuing the other's pet, if only to hold the threat of letting it die over Zexion's head for a little bit.
At first Zexion said nothing. To think he would need to repay the owner of such a vicious plant. Though after glancing at the exhausted cat, whose pitiful cries were beginning to sound weak, he wondered if this was really his only choice.
"I can't understand why you expect to be repaid," he said flatly, "And why would you want anything from me, of all people?"
The cat let out another cry and Zexion rubbed his temples in annoyance, ready to give up and do what was asked of him. "If you aren't serious about this, I'll just go get the cat myself."
Marluxia's smirk was insufferable. "That would be foolish on your part. You don't know how to handle this type of plant," he replied, examining the knife, "You'd only end up injuring both yourself and your cat."
Without another word, the taller man strode down the steps and into the garden. The threat had only been a ruse, and Zexion had reacted exactly how he had predicted. As for the other threats, most of them regarding Zexion's cat, Marluxia hadn't expected that they would actually occur. At least, not yet.
Carefully making his way through the fauna, he soon reached the unique venus fly trap and its mewling prey. It almost seemed to turn towards him, but he hurriedly ducked away from it to where the cat was. Gripping the knife more firmly, he set about cutting away the vines wrapped around the feline's portly body. The pathetic animal looked up at him and let out a single hopeless cry, and for good reason: Blood was starting to stain its silver coat from where thorns were cutting into its skin. Zexion wouldn't be too pleased.
Somewhat hesitantly, Zexion stepped to the other side of the cat, observing Marluxia's movements carefully. His perfectly innocent, angelic little cat stared up at him with wide, watery eyes, squirming about as the knife neared him. Marluxia seemed to be taking his time in freeing the poor animal. Apparently, a certain Mr. Muffin Cakes probably wouldn't be going outside unsupervised anytime soon.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then decided against it. Speaking now could risk losing Marluxia's assistance, though it certainly shouldn't have been called assistance; it deserved a much less noble term. Instead he set back to observing the quietly mewling cat, his fur ruffled and matted with blood, and most likely covered in thorns, which Zexion would later have the duty of removing.
"Do you have other, more dangerous, plants?" he finally asked, as it seemed as if Marluxia would soon be finished.
"Quite a few, actually," Marluxia answered as he cut through the last of the vines. Holding the knife out for Zexion to take, he bent down and gathered the cat into his arms. It wasn't easy; the animal was more than a little overweight. Luckily, it was still in shock, and it let itself be lifted off the ground without a qualm, making the task much simpler.
"It's best not to linger. This one isn't too fond of losing its prey," he advised as he stepped around Zexion, maneuvering back to the deck. He was aware that one of the cat's wounds was bleeding profusely, judging by the way his bare chest was being covered in the scarlet liquid.
After a quick glance at the plant, which almost seemed to wriggle about in response, Zexion followed Marluxia back to the deck. There had been smears of blood on some of the vines, a rather gruesome sight, and just a bit on the edge of the knife he was currently holding. Never would he have expected to be in such a situation.
Upon reaching the deck he saw Marluxia turn to face him. The cat had been hurt much more than expected, and while it worried Zexion terribly, there was also something strangely... appealing about the sight of blood on the other man. Had it not been his cat's, he would have given it more thought.
"How badly is he injured?" Zexion asked quickly, while gently stroking the cat's head in an attempt to soothe it.
Marluxia shrugged gracefully, shifting the animal slightly so that its owner could have better access to its ears. "Not horribly," he murmured while giving the cat a quick yet thorough glance, "Nothing save for several deep scratches. I've seen worse."
And oh, he had. It didn't matter that they were humans instead of pets; if anything, that made it worse. Flesh was flesh, whether it was covered in fur or not.
"If you'd rather not wait to drive him to the vet's, I'm more than capable of caring for him," the pink-haired man offered. He had all the materials necessary, and as the injuries weren't very serious, it would be a waste of time to drive out to the town-center. In the end, the cat might even get away without stitches, if it were lucky. (Then again, its luck wasn't very good in the first place.)
"I see," he began, and considered the offer. It would most likely be a waste to drive all the way to the vet, considering the intensity of the injuries and the distance he would need to travel. Somewhat grudgingly, he accepted. "I think it would be best that you treat him here."
For a moment he had wondered if Marluxia saw worse ailments in other animals or if he was referring to his profession, though it seemed irrelevant at this point. He sighed, partially in defeat, and moved his hand away from the cat. "How long will it take?"
"It shouldn't take more than an hour or two," said Marluxia as he led the other back into the house. He'd have to work in the kitchen, as he was certain that Zexion wouldn't be pleased to see his study, as there were case photos pinned up on all four walls. Yes, the kitchen would definitely be a more preferable setting.
Placing the cat on the table, the man looked back at Zexion. "If you take a few towels out from the drawer to the left of the sink, I'll fetch the kit. Just make sure he doesn't run off," he instructed. The prospect of scrubbing blood out of the carpet wasn't a pleasing one.
Of course, neither was spending the afternoon operating on a cat instead of resting. The lack of sleep was starting to nag at the edges of his mind, but he determinedly ignored it. The sooner he sewed up the cat, the sooner he could relax.
Zexion nodded in response. There was no point in asking questions now, particularly if he wanted to stay in Marluxia's good graces, which seemed to be a near-impossible feat at this point. He walked over to the drawer as instructed and took out a few towels, then set them on the table beside the cat. Once Marluxia had left, he returned to stroking the poor thing.
"It's okay, you don't have to worry," he said quietly, and he received a weak meow in response. "It'll only take an hour or so."
Five minutes later, Marluxia returned to the kitchen, a nondescript box in his hands. It wasn't marked as a first-aid kit - not anymore. The red cross had long since been scratched off. Upon placing it on the table and opening it, however, it was clear that it was better than a normal first-aid kit. At the very least, the instruments were of a much higher quality.
"How old is he?" Marluxia asked conversationally while crossing over to the sink. He washed his hands quickly and efficiently before returning to the table, taking one of the towels and spreading it out over the wooden surface. "Place him on here," he instructed, more so out of habit than anything else.
Zexion set his cat on the towel and scratched under its chin one last time before stepping back to give Marluxia more room.
"He's four," he answered calmly, though he watched the other's movements carefully. The first-aid kit of sorts had seemed rather suspicious at first, considering that it was unmarked and filled with somewhat strange tools, though he couldn't say he was very educated on this particular subject. "What exactly do you plan on doing? An hour is an acceptable time, but I would rather not leave him here alone."
Marluxia lifted a brow, pulling out a compact bottle of isopropyl rubbing alcohol and setting it on the table. Cotton balls, a needle, and thread followed, which he organized next to the mewling cat in a line. "I simply need to disinfect the wounds before sewing up the deeper ones," he explained, extracting a pair of disposable gloves and putting them on, "If you would rather do something else, the television is in the living room."
Without waiting for a response, he took ahold of the cat by its neck, holding it still as he pushed back the short, silver fur in order to examine the injuries. The bleeding had lessened somewhat, but not by much. The white dishtowel beneath the animal was gradually being stained garnet.
"I see. Thank you for the offer," he replied concisely, and after a final look at the proceedings, walked into what seemed to be the living room.
The entire house was quite a mess, and therefore nowhere near Zexion's standards. Personally, he wouldn't be able to live in a place like this, but for now, he would need to suffer through an hour of all the clutter.
He sat on the couch and observed the room for a moment before looking for the remote. Books were strewn about the coffee table before him, and before finding what he had originally been looking for, he came across a fairly interesting book. "Pet Semetary", it was called, and reading it seemed preferable to watching television. He was quite sure Marluxia wouldn't mind.
Only forty-five minutes had passed before Marluxia appeared in the living room, carrying the lethargic cat in his arms. One back leg was wrapped in a bandage, as was its middle. Needless to say, he'd wasted quite a bit of cloth in order to compensate for the cat's sheer girth.
Despite that, there was a satisfied look on his visage as he took a seat beside Zexion, one that hinted he was more than pleased with himself. It wasn't every day he had to repair an animal, after all. Pets were rarely ever buried in coffins, if at all.
His lips curved into a smirk as he saw the cover of the book, taking into consideration the thought that had just crossed his mind. Zexion was obviously engrossed in reading, having not reacted to him sitting down. Marluxia disregarded that, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder so as to not startle him too badly before speaking.
"You'll have to keep an eye on him so that he doesn't bite at the stitches," Marluxia advised him in a tired voice, skipping over any pleasantries, "I'm afraid I don't have a cone for him, but I'm sure you could find one at the veterinarian's office, should you truly desire it."
Zexion twitched slightly after becoming aware of Marluxia's presence. It was difficult to tell what kind of state the cat was in, as he didn't respond much to seeing his owner, though the amount of bandages did seem promising in regards to his recovery.
"I'll keep that in mind," Zexion replied as he returned the book to its original location, "If he really does need one, I'll pick up a cone tomorrow."
While this seemed like the perfect opportunity to take his cat and leave, Marluxia still had his hand on the other man's shoulder in a rather strange manner.
"Thank you for tending to him," he added, fidgeting slightly.
"It was no problem," murmured the other man, and his fingers dug in ever-so-slightly before they vanished, moving instead to lift the cat. The muffin-shaped bell on its collar jingled, mixing with its mewl of discomfort as it sunk down onto Zexion's lap, where it curled up immediately.
Watching to make sure the feline didn't try to tear off its bandages right away, Marluxia absently rubbed at his chest, blinking blearily in order to keep his eyes open. His skin was still splattered with the cat's blood from when he'd carried it inside, as well as a bit from the operation, though by now, it had dried. He hadn't felt like traipsing upstairs to find a shirt, and really, it hadn't mattered.
Very carefully, Zexion began to pet the cat in an effort to soothe him. He found it very difficult to explain to himself what had occurred today, considering how originally he had found Marluxia at fault but was now meant to thank him. From the corner of his eye he watched the other man as he stroked his own chest, then gathered up the cat in his arms and stood.
"I suppose I should be going now," he finally said, then added, as if trying to find an excuse to continue talking, "Though before I do, how long will it take for him to be completely healed?"
Marluxia didn't reply instantly, having to stifle a yawn. Now that he was sitting down and relaxing against the couch, he didn't want to get back up. The fatigue was hitting him like a train; he was surprised he hadn't nodded off while sewing the cat's flesh together.
In the end, he forced himself back to his feet with a deep sigh. "I can't say for sure. Most of the patients I have don't heal," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands, "Perhaps two weeks, possibly longer." With that being said, he moved past Zexion to lead the way back to the front door, finding it somewhat difficult not to trip over his own slippered feet. He was so damn tired, and if he didn't get up to bed soon, he'd probably just pass out in the middle of the hall.
Zexion simply nodded in response. There wasn't much more to say, though upon reaching the front door, he paused. It was fairly difficult to keep ahold of his cat, as it was all but limp in his arms, seeming much more heavy than usual. He turned his attention back to Marluxia, who suddenly seemed more exhausted than he had let on.
"I apologize for keeping you awake," he ventured, "I feel as if I should be indebted to you."
Marluxia laughed under his breath, though the look in his eyes showed that he was intrigued. "I suppose I'll have to hold you to that, then," he said, viciously fighting back another yawn. It took all of his will-power not to sit down and fall asleep on the stairs right then and there. To distract himself, he moved to the door, opening it deftly and stepping aside to let Zexion out. "Though, preferably when I haven't been working all night," he added, the corners of his mouth tilting up into a slight grin.
While he was quite curious about what Marluxia was planning, as that grin wasn't something he could keep from noticing, he decided to wait. If Marluxia even remembered this, as he seemed to be nearly asleep as it was, Zexion would figure out when the time came. Otherwise, it wouldn't particularly matter.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said after a pause, "Good bye for the time being." For a moment Zexion looked down at his cat, and then walked out the door and headed back towards his home, left to wonder when the sight of blood had last interested him so.
- end.
TITLE: Mr. Muffin Cakes' Lucky Break
CHARACTERS: Marluxia (deceiverxi), Zexion (connivance)
LOCATION(S): Marluxia's house (#227) and garden
SUMMARY: Marluxia and Zexion go on a rescue mission to save Mr. Muffin Cakes.
RATING: PG
Megs (Zexion) says: I'm really liking this Muffin Cakes title idea. ;D
Nina (Marluxia) says: This was supposed to end differently, but we were at a loss trying to figure out how to make what we wanted happen. (Whoaaa, messed up sentence structure.) It's interesting enough, if you like Marluxia, Zexion, cats, and blood.
The cat had been gone since this morning, which was quite strange, considering he didn't return home for his midday meal. If nothing else, food would lure him back. At first, Zexion paid this no mind, assuming his precious Mr. Muffin Cakes had found something more interesting to do than lounge around the house all day.
When he walked outside to retrieve his mail, he half-expected to find the cat stuck in a fence again, wriggling about half-heartedly as usual. And while the sound of worried meowing was quite audible, there was no cat in sight.
There had been more than enough threats regarding his completely innocent pet from Marluxia in the past few days, generally revolving around the existence of man-eating plants. Zexion was hesitant to believe such outlandish claims, but he wasn't quite sure what else would cause his poor cat such suffering.
Deciding that the mail could wait, he walked across the lawn to the source of the crying and peered over the fence dividing their yards.
And oddly enough, there was the cat, writhing around amongst a strange collection of vines as an even stranger plant towered over him, almost as if it was watching, waiting to strike.
Zexion called out, but his cat couldn't free himself without help. And while being stuck in a fence was fairly safe, this was bordering on barbaric.
Feeling an odd sort of panic set in, he marched right up to Marluxia's front door and began to repeatedly ring the doorbell.
After a harrying minute or two, there was the sound of several locks and bolts being undone from the other side of the door. It cracked open, and a pink-haired man peered out. He seemed rather weary. His hair was a mess, and he was only wearing a pair of plaid navy sweatpants. It was obvious that he'd been woken up.
Upon seeing who it was, the man frowned, blinking several times as he opened the door a bit more. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he said, voice laced with drowsiness.
In a way, Zexion was pleased to find Marluxia in such a state. He certainly deserved to be disturbed after allowing an innocent cat to be subject to such danger.
"One of the unsightly mutations in your garden is attacking my cat," he answered quickly, irritation apparent in his voice. "Just what kind of monster are you keeping back there? This should be illegal."
Zexion stopped himself before launching into another tangent, as it could possibly put his cat's life, or at least well-being, into even more danger. He let out an agitated sigh and pointed towards the backyard.
"I would appreciate it greatly if you helped me retrieve my pet."
For a moment, Marluxia seemed confused, but the frantic mewling emanating from his garden finally seemed to register in his mind. Apparently, the cat had made it through the fence this time. How bothersome.
He sighed and stepped back, gesturing for Zexion to come in. "I'm afraid there's no way into the garden from the outside," he offered as an explanation, "for obvious reasons." The man stifled a yawn. It wasn't his fault that he'd been sleeping; after all, he'd been on duty all night, and he'd been looking forward to catching up on missed sleep this afternoon. Apparently, that wasn't going to happen.
Zexion quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him, then waited to be led outside. It seemed that Marluxia was in no hurry, which proved to be quite infuriating to Zexion.
"What are you keeping back there?" he asked, somewhat upset that his curiosity had gotten the best of him. Now really wasn't the time to ask, but he wouldn't have many more opportunities. The interior of the house itself seemed normal enough, though that couldn't be used to predict the contents of the garden.
Marluxia began to lead Zexion down the hall, shuffling along in his slippers. Suppressing another yawn, he glanced backwards at the shorter man to make sure he was following. "You'll see soon enough," he replied, not too keen on divulging every single species of plant within the garden.
Crossing through the kitchen to the back door, Marluxia paused only to procure a knife from one of the drawers. The sliding glass door opened out onto the deck, which was empty save for the flower boxes on the railing, along with the vines twining across the wood. At first, it seemed overgrown, but a second look revealed that it was done in quite an artful manner.
The high-pitched meowing was much louder out here, and sure enough, he could see that one of his plants was currently strangling his neighbor's cat. What a pity. The fat thing had long since grown tired of struggling and had instead resorted to crying for help. As for the plant, it was only one of the 'special' venus fly traps he had imported from an equally special facility.
Turning back to Zexion, the man said, "I don't quite fancy cutting up something as rare as that." It was clear that he was asking how he would benefit from rescuing the other's pet, if only to hold the threat of letting it die over Zexion's head for a little bit.
At first Zexion said nothing. To think he would need to repay the owner of such a vicious plant. Though after glancing at the exhausted cat, whose pitiful cries were beginning to sound weak, he wondered if this was really his only choice.
"I can't understand why you expect to be repaid," he said flatly, "And why would you want anything from me, of all people?"
The cat let out another cry and Zexion rubbed his temples in annoyance, ready to give up and do what was asked of him. "If you aren't serious about this, I'll just go get the cat myself."
Marluxia's smirk was insufferable. "That would be foolish on your part. You don't know how to handle this type of plant," he replied, examining the knife, "You'd only end up injuring both yourself and your cat."
Without another word, the taller man strode down the steps and into the garden. The threat had only been a ruse, and Zexion had reacted exactly how he had predicted. As for the other threats, most of them regarding Zexion's cat, Marluxia hadn't expected that they would actually occur. At least, not yet.
Carefully making his way through the fauna, he soon reached the unique venus fly trap and its mewling prey. It almost seemed to turn towards him, but he hurriedly ducked away from it to where the cat was. Gripping the knife more firmly, he set about cutting away the vines wrapped around the feline's portly body. The pathetic animal looked up at him and let out a single hopeless cry, and for good reason: Blood was starting to stain its silver coat from where thorns were cutting into its skin. Zexion wouldn't be too pleased.
Somewhat hesitantly, Zexion stepped to the other side of the cat, observing Marluxia's movements carefully. His perfectly innocent, angelic little cat stared up at him with wide, watery eyes, squirming about as the knife neared him. Marluxia seemed to be taking his time in freeing the poor animal. Apparently, a certain Mr. Muffin Cakes probably wouldn't be going outside unsupervised anytime soon.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then decided against it. Speaking now could risk losing Marluxia's assistance, though it certainly shouldn't have been called assistance; it deserved a much less noble term. Instead he set back to observing the quietly mewling cat, his fur ruffled and matted with blood, and most likely covered in thorns, which Zexion would later have the duty of removing.
"Do you have other, more dangerous, plants?" he finally asked, as it seemed as if Marluxia would soon be finished.
"Quite a few, actually," Marluxia answered as he cut through the last of the vines. Holding the knife out for Zexion to take, he bent down and gathered the cat into his arms. It wasn't easy; the animal was more than a little overweight. Luckily, it was still in shock, and it let itself be lifted off the ground without a qualm, making the task much simpler.
"It's best not to linger. This one isn't too fond of losing its prey," he advised as he stepped around Zexion, maneuvering back to the deck. He was aware that one of the cat's wounds was bleeding profusely, judging by the way his bare chest was being covered in the scarlet liquid.
After a quick glance at the plant, which almost seemed to wriggle about in response, Zexion followed Marluxia back to the deck. There had been smears of blood on some of the vines, a rather gruesome sight, and just a bit on the edge of the knife he was currently holding. Never would he have expected to be in such a situation.
Upon reaching the deck he saw Marluxia turn to face him. The cat had been hurt much more than expected, and while it worried Zexion terribly, there was also something strangely... appealing about the sight of blood on the other man. Had it not been his cat's, he would have given it more thought.
"How badly is he injured?" Zexion asked quickly, while gently stroking the cat's head in an attempt to soothe it.
Marluxia shrugged gracefully, shifting the animal slightly so that its owner could have better access to its ears. "Not horribly," he murmured while giving the cat a quick yet thorough glance, "Nothing save for several deep scratches. I've seen worse."
And oh, he had. It didn't matter that they were humans instead of pets; if anything, that made it worse. Flesh was flesh, whether it was covered in fur or not.
"If you'd rather not wait to drive him to the vet's, I'm more than capable of caring for him," the pink-haired man offered. He had all the materials necessary, and as the injuries weren't very serious, it would be a waste of time to drive out to the town-center. In the end, the cat might even get away without stitches, if it were lucky. (Then again, its luck wasn't very good in the first place.)
"I see," he began, and considered the offer. It would most likely be a waste to drive all the way to the vet, considering the intensity of the injuries and the distance he would need to travel. Somewhat grudgingly, he accepted. "I think it would be best that you treat him here."
For a moment he had wondered if Marluxia saw worse ailments in other animals or if he was referring to his profession, though it seemed irrelevant at this point. He sighed, partially in defeat, and moved his hand away from the cat. "How long will it take?"
"It shouldn't take more than an hour or two," said Marluxia as he led the other back into the house. He'd have to work in the kitchen, as he was certain that Zexion wouldn't be pleased to see his study, as there were case photos pinned up on all four walls. Yes, the kitchen would definitely be a more preferable setting.
Placing the cat on the table, the man looked back at Zexion. "If you take a few towels out from the drawer to the left of the sink, I'll fetch the kit. Just make sure he doesn't run off," he instructed. The prospect of scrubbing blood out of the carpet wasn't a pleasing one.
Of course, neither was spending the afternoon operating on a cat instead of resting. The lack of sleep was starting to nag at the edges of his mind, but he determinedly ignored it. The sooner he sewed up the cat, the sooner he could relax.
Zexion nodded in response. There was no point in asking questions now, particularly if he wanted to stay in Marluxia's good graces, which seemed to be a near-impossible feat at this point. He walked over to the drawer as instructed and took out a few towels, then set them on the table beside the cat. Once Marluxia had left, he returned to stroking the poor thing.
"It's okay, you don't have to worry," he said quietly, and he received a weak meow in response. "It'll only take an hour or so."
Five minutes later, Marluxia returned to the kitchen, a nondescript box in his hands. It wasn't marked as a first-aid kit - not anymore. The red cross had long since been scratched off. Upon placing it on the table and opening it, however, it was clear that it was better than a normal first-aid kit. At the very least, the instruments were of a much higher quality.
"How old is he?" Marluxia asked conversationally while crossing over to the sink. He washed his hands quickly and efficiently before returning to the table, taking one of the towels and spreading it out over the wooden surface. "Place him on here," he instructed, more so out of habit than anything else.
Zexion set his cat on the towel and scratched under its chin one last time before stepping back to give Marluxia more room.
"He's four," he answered calmly, though he watched the other's movements carefully. The first-aid kit of sorts had seemed rather suspicious at first, considering that it was unmarked and filled with somewhat strange tools, though he couldn't say he was very educated on this particular subject. "What exactly do you plan on doing? An hour is an acceptable time, but I would rather not leave him here alone."
Marluxia lifted a brow, pulling out a compact bottle of isopropyl rubbing alcohol and setting it on the table. Cotton balls, a needle, and thread followed, which he organized next to the mewling cat in a line. "I simply need to disinfect the wounds before sewing up the deeper ones," he explained, extracting a pair of disposable gloves and putting them on, "If you would rather do something else, the television is in the living room."
Without waiting for a response, he took ahold of the cat by its neck, holding it still as he pushed back the short, silver fur in order to examine the injuries. The bleeding had lessened somewhat, but not by much. The white dishtowel beneath the animal was gradually being stained garnet.
"I see. Thank you for the offer," he replied concisely, and after a final look at the proceedings, walked into what seemed to be the living room.
The entire house was quite a mess, and therefore nowhere near Zexion's standards. Personally, he wouldn't be able to live in a place like this, but for now, he would need to suffer through an hour of all the clutter.
He sat on the couch and observed the room for a moment before looking for the remote. Books were strewn about the coffee table before him, and before finding what he had originally been looking for, he came across a fairly interesting book. "Pet Semetary", it was called, and reading it seemed preferable to watching television. He was quite sure Marluxia wouldn't mind.
Only forty-five minutes had passed before Marluxia appeared in the living room, carrying the lethargic cat in his arms. One back leg was wrapped in a bandage, as was its middle. Needless to say, he'd wasted quite a bit of cloth in order to compensate for the cat's sheer girth.
Despite that, there was a satisfied look on his visage as he took a seat beside Zexion, one that hinted he was more than pleased with himself. It wasn't every day he had to repair an animal, after all. Pets were rarely ever buried in coffins, if at all.
His lips curved into a smirk as he saw the cover of the book, taking into consideration the thought that had just crossed his mind. Zexion was obviously engrossed in reading, having not reacted to him sitting down. Marluxia disregarded that, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder so as to not startle him too badly before speaking.
"You'll have to keep an eye on him so that he doesn't bite at the stitches," Marluxia advised him in a tired voice, skipping over any pleasantries, "I'm afraid I don't have a cone for him, but I'm sure you could find one at the veterinarian's office, should you truly desire it."
Zexion twitched slightly after becoming aware of Marluxia's presence. It was difficult to tell what kind of state the cat was in, as he didn't respond much to seeing his owner, though the amount of bandages did seem promising in regards to his recovery.
"I'll keep that in mind," Zexion replied as he returned the book to its original location, "If he really does need one, I'll pick up a cone tomorrow."
While this seemed like the perfect opportunity to take his cat and leave, Marluxia still had his hand on the other man's shoulder in a rather strange manner.
"Thank you for tending to him," he added, fidgeting slightly.
"It was no problem," murmured the other man, and his fingers dug in ever-so-slightly before they vanished, moving instead to lift the cat. The muffin-shaped bell on its collar jingled, mixing with its mewl of discomfort as it sunk down onto Zexion's lap, where it curled up immediately.
Watching to make sure the feline didn't try to tear off its bandages right away, Marluxia absently rubbed at his chest, blinking blearily in order to keep his eyes open. His skin was still splattered with the cat's blood from when he'd carried it inside, as well as a bit from the operation, though by now, it had dried. He hadn't felt like traipsing upstairs to find a shirt, and really, it hadn't mattered.
Very carefully, Zexion began to pet the cat in an effort to soothe him. He found it very difficult to explain to himself what had occurred today, considering how originally he had found Marluxia at fault but was now meant to thank him. From the corner of his eye he watched the other man as he stroked his own chest, then gathered up the cat in his arms and stood.
"I suppose I should be going now," he finally said, then added, as if trying to find an excuse to continue talking, "Though before I do, how long will it take for him to be completely healed?"
Marluxia didn't reply instantly, having to stifle a yawn. Now that he was sitting down and relaxing against the couch, he didn't want to get back up. The fatigue was hitting him like a train; he was surprised he hadn't nodded off while sewing the cat's flesh together.
In the end, he forced himself back to his feet with a deep sigh. "I can't say for sure. Most of the patients I have don't heal," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands, "Perhaps two weeks, possibly longer." With that being said, he moved past Zexion to lead the way back to the front door, finding it somewhat difficult not to trip over his own slippered feet. He was so damn tired, and if he didn't get up to bed soon, he'd probably just pass out in the middle of the hall.
Zexion simply nodded in response. There wasn't much more to say, though upon reaching the front door, he paused. It was fairly difficult to keep ahold of his cat, as it was all but limp in his arms, seeming much more heavy than usual. He turned his attention back to Marluxia, who suddenly seemed more exhausted than he had let on.
"I apologize for keeping you awake," he ventured, "I feel as if I should be indebted to you."
Marluxia laughed under his breath, though the look in his eyes showed that he was intrigued. "I suppose I'll have to hold you to that, then," he said, viciously fighting back another yawn. It took all of his will-power not to sit down and fall asleep on the stairs right then and there. To distract himself, he moved to the door, opening it deftly and stepping aside to let Zexion out. "Though, preferably when I haven't been working all night," he added, the corners of his mouth tilting up into a slight grin.
While he was quite curious about what Marluxia was planning, as that grin wasn't something he could keep from noticing, he decided to wait. If Marluxia even remembered this, as he seemed to be nearly asleep as it was, Zexion would figure out when the time came. Otherwise, it wouldn't particularly matter.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said after a pause, "Good bye for the time being." For a moment Zexion looked down at his cat, and then walked out the door and headed back towards his home, left to wonder when the sight of blood had last interested him so.
- end.