If a thing loves, it is infinite

[very_sharpe]

Thomas steps back a bit, taking a look around his apartment. The windows are open to let in the fresh air and the light. After months of living here, he's realized he could... decorate the place. He found some art to hang, perhaps stock art but it's all he can afford just now. It's nothing like Allerdale, soothing and bright. He has a more comfortable sectional, and a few bookcases now, with books on them.

On his coffee table sits his agenda book - he has two interviews this week - and an application for the local university. Though he's a little unsure that he's qualified, given his last education was completed in the late 19th century. Still, he'll hope, and he'll apply and see where it gets him.

There are two gallon-sized fish tanks: one on the kitchen color, another on a small table in the living room. Each housed a colorful betta fish. Thomas found himself a bit lonely, so used to having at least someone around all the time, that he thought something living might be nice. There are small plants sitting on the window sill: a pot of violets and a basil plant. He's never... grown anything before. And to be fair, he didn't grow these, but they haven't died on his watch, either. Surely that counts for something.

He's completely embraced modern fashion, utterly delighted by the sheer variety of ready-made clothes available. Today finds him in a pair of dark jeans and a sort of oatmeal colored sweater.

He picks up his mug of tea and the university application again, reading it over when he's a bit startled by a knock at his door. He's not expecting anyone. Thomas sticks the papers under his arm and answers it, tea still in one hand.

Comments

[puckandpie]

Call me paranoid, but after Lee's disappearance, I've been making a point of checking in on people more often. There's a fear attached every single time, this ever-present worry that, one day, I'll knock on the door and no one will answer. So far, that worry hasn't alleviated in the slightest, so when Thomas answers after only a few, terrifying moments, I can't help the rush of relief that crashes over me.

"Hi!" I tell him, more breath than actual vocalization, thrusting the small Tupperware of snickerdoodles toward him. It's been awhile since we last spoke, but he looks just exactly as I remember if a little more casually-dressed.

"Cookies to go with your tea?" I ask before cocking my head slightly. "Or at least I assume that's tea. Whatever the case, cookies?"