It was an especially sunny day, so at Charles’ insistence, David had hung all the washing out in the sun instead of using the dryer because, sunlight smelt far nicer on your pillow than soap. The downside to all this was that Charles was hungry and it wasn’t lunch time yet.
He opened the fridge and peered inside, letting the coolness wash over his face.
Did he want orange juice?
There wasn’t any left overs because David was very good at calculating exactly how much everyone ate, and the only thing that was microwavable looked to be a bowl of jasmine rice. Charles pulled open the fruit partition and rummaged inside.
“Ha!” he exclaimed, pulling a plastic container out. It contained neat slices of watermelon, the red ones from the green house. Letting the fridge door swing shut, Charles picked out a fork from the cutlery drawer and popped open the lid. Leaving it by the sink, he plopped himself down on the beanbag (which helpfully shifted into the shape of a squashy chair, shifting Max who had been dozing.
Charles picked out a piece from the top of the pile and ate it with relish.
“Meowwww,” said Robbie, jumping up next to Charles and rubbing up against his shoulder like cats do. He leaned right over Charles’ elbow in the attempt to nose at the watermelon.
“JARVIS,” asked Charles, out loud, “Can Robbie have some?”
“In moderation,” said JARVIS.
“MEROWWWW,” said Robbie, rubbing his face against Charles’ wrist.
OKAYYY, sent Charles, and held out a piece of watermelon between his fingers. Robbie sniffed it for a good ten seconds before taking a lick. Then another lick. Then soon he was munching down on the watermelon piece until sticky juice was running down the inside of Charles’ wrist, ticklish, but Robbie’s pleasure was like a purr inside Charles’ own chest. When Robbie finished the first piece, he stepped over Charles’ arm in an attempt to get at the rest of the pieces in the container. His tail arched up and gave Charles a face-full of fluff.
“No, no!” he spluttered, hold the container out of reach.
MORRREEEE thought Robbie, with all the impatience of a kitty deprived of strange sweet treats.
Charles stabbed another piece and stuffed it in his own mouth, chewing triumphantly. Robbie stared at him as if he was murdering all the pillows in the house, big blue eyes full of accusation. His ears flicked, back and forth, then back and forth.
Charles looked down at his container.
“Alright, maybe one more,” he said.
My computer livessss (for now) \;;7;;;/ woaaa so happy!! Thank you everyone for your understanding and kind messages~~
And I can finally finish my promo art for Cherik: Warm bodies AU! I’ve been craving for a fic since long ago, if only I could write as good as you guys otl *bats eyelashes at you all*/ hithit