A Messy, Crime Love Story (CLOSED)

Cala nodded at his assurance, continuing the methodical stitching of his gash. "That might be a good idea. You probably know what places serve better food. If I'm going to try spaghetti, it needs to be the best that I can afford. To make up for lost time, of course." For a moment, she wondered what kind of 'going out' it would be. The thought was quickly shook off, and she reminded herself that they were probably far from the kind of people that made a good match.

They were a third of the way through. She had done this enough that she could move quickly, without making any mistakes. Something she was grateful for, knowing how painful stitches were. "Once, a friend of mine bought lunch for a picnic from this fancy little…he called it a bistro. He said that the entire time he was getting food, the lady he was ordering from kept asking if he could afford it. Which is funnier when you actually try the food there. You know those frozen TV dinners that stores sell? According to him, that's exactly what it tasted like. It wasn't very good. We're halfway done, on the stitches."

Cala laughed softly, careful not to let the movement jostle her hands. "I don't have a bed in the guest room, because I only just recently got around to turning it into a guest room. You can take the couch, or I can sleep on the couch, and you can use my bed." Her sleep schedule was wildly messed up, keeping her up late or waking her up randomly. She was used to falling asleep and waking up in random places in the apartment, so a night out of her bed was far from the end of the world. "It's up to you. Two thirds."

Startled by the much more obvious flirting, Cala choked out a cough, her face flushing pink. "It's not-not a very big bed." She practically whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. Doing her best to focus back on her work, she shrugged a shoulder. "It wouldn't be a big deal for you to use the bed. I don't know that an injured leg and a couch are a very good blend, anyway." A few more moments had her finishing up, tying off the last of the stitches and cutting the thread. "There! I can bandage it, if you need me to."

"If we were really leaving this up to me, I'd take you to a licensed professional." Cala said, blowing an escaped piece of hair out of her face as she once again took off her gloves, this time leaving them off to apply a large adhesive bandage over some cautionary gauze. "I figure you probably want to stand as little as possible, so I went with a quick sticky bandage. If we need tomorrow, I can fully wrap you up." With that taken care of, she moved the tub with her foot out of the way. Keeping it out for tomorrow.

Now that her mind wasn't occupied by the injury, she was a lot less confident. Gaze shifting, she fidgeted with her hands. "Uh-you probably need clean clothes. Jeans aren't very comfortable to sleep in. I'll…go grab those."

Cala nodded, grateful for the moment to breathe. She slipped into her bedroom, another door off of the living room, leaving the door open just a crack. Hino often gave her any old clothes he didn't want, which was useful when it came to her 'side business'. Most of the men who showed up, did so with practically ruined clothes. She liked to help if she could. Luckily, Hino was similar in size to Yeong, though a bit shorter.

She hummed softly as she pulled a tote out of her closet, opening it up and moving aside the tea bag she used to keep the clothes from smelling funky. Once she had the t-shirt and sweatpants she grabbed a blanket from the closet, and one of the pillows off her bed, then stepped back out, setting everything on the couch.

"The, um, bathroom is right there. I'll be in my room, if you need anything. Just…knock. Get some rest?"

Cala's eyes widened at that, like the thought was crazy to her. "Oh, no. There's…I think you're the first one to ask that." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself as she shook her head. "No, I wouldn't dream of letting you repay me. Your father's help has been incredible, and I get to help people." She was so used to doing things for other people. The idea of even letting someone return that favor seemed mildly uncomfortable. Even in different circumstances.

"Well, I…" Something simple would work, right? She wasn't sure what the boundaries were, in terms of giving tasks to the son of the man you owed your freedom to. "I have some baking to do tomorrow? Or, I guess there's some garden work I could use help with. I don't know it really would depend on how well you're doing in the morning." Cala added, frowning at the floor.

Cala nodded, turning to head back to her room. She paused before taking a step, glancing back at Yeong. "Um…goodnight, Yeong. I hope your dreams are kind." Was that the right phrase? A slight flush hit her cheeks as she turned away and slipped into her room, trying to remember what the phrase she had intended to say was. Have nice dreams? Sweet dreams. That was it.

She made a face at herself, shutting the door softly and turning the lock. It hadn't come with one, as whoever designed the apartment probably didn't expect the owner to need a lock on the only bedroom door. She had installed it herself, after a night spent with her desk wedged in front of the door.

Cala changed quickly into a pair of sleep shorts and a men's shirt she had bought for sleeping in. Normally, she would have been up and about her apartment a lot later into the night. But tonight seemed like a good night to read.

((cala's very 'gonna ignore the flirting cause i dont know what to say to it' lmao))

Her sleep had been easier that night. Though the nightmares still haunted her, they were silly ones, of being followed down dark streets and being trapped under ice. None of them were plucked from her memories, and for that, she was grateful. She had woken every few hours to check on Yeong, relieved each and every time to find him still breathing and sprawled across her couch.

It was 5:30, and sunlight made its way through her window, dancing pleasantly along her skin and across the quilt she was tucked under. Peaceful. It was a rare feeling, and she clung to it like a lifeline as she rose to face the day. Getting dressed was quick, a pair of denim shorts and a bandeau top paired with a light blue button up that she had claimed as hers when Hino failed to pick it up after a month of it sitting in her closet. She'd likely switch it out for something different later in the day, but it worked for now.

Quietly, she made her way into the living room. She wasn't sure how long Yeong would continue to sleep, but he needed the rest. She was almost silent in brushing her teeth, minus the running water, and found herself craving pancakes. That seemed like a good breakfast option when Yeong woke up. For now, she moved on light feet about the house, tending to all of her plants with water, whispered words in Greek, and humming. And plenty of funny faces one would make at a child.

Cala jumped at her name being shouted, only taking a split second to compute what Yeong had shouted. Luckily, she kept two waste baskets in the living room, one for dead plant trimmings and the other for medical trash. She quickly grabbed the latter bin, handing it to him. After making sure he had a good enough grip on it, she hurried to the kitchen. "Water and aspirin. Theós, I probably should have given you water last night, to take the edge off the alcohol."

She tried to remember if she had spare toothbrushes, as she filled a glass with water. There had been a few, and she had a few for regular visitors as well. Shaking her head, she returned with a bottle of aspirin and the glass of water. Worst case, she could let him use hers, and go pick up more. At least they weren't expensive. "Times like this make me glad I don't drink regularly."

Cala's grimace was sympathetic, as was her tone as she spoke. "Is it helpful to mention I was going to make pancakes? The bread-y consistency might be good on your stomach." She said, taking a seat on the edge of an arm chair. "That, and you definitely need some food in you. Otherwise, how are you feeling?" Once again, she had wrapped her arms around herself, unsure of what to do with her hands as she sat and talked to someone. If you weren't doing something, people usually expected eye contact, too. That wasn't as easy for her as it was for other people, as her father had managed to beat eye contact out of her.

Her cheeks flushed pink again–why was that happening so much lately–and Cala shook her head fervently. "N-no, we didn't. You showed up, we talked about grilled cheese while I dealt with your injury, and then you slept on the couch. I wouldn't-I'd never sleep with someone who was injured. That seems sort of like malpractice." She said, her words almost tripping over themselves in a hurry to leave her mouth. "You said you were running from the police, and got injured. That's about all that matters from last night."

If she was lucky, he would have forgotten both offering to repay her help and taking her out. The latter hadn't been much of an issue up until she realized he was probably flirting with her.

Cala jumped to her feet, holding up a hand as though to say 'hold on'. The laundry room was sort of connected to the kitchen, and she had taken his pants to wash them. The shirt had obviously gotten tossed. She wasn't even sure she could get the blood out if she tried to mend it.

The pants were sitting on top of the dryer, clean. The items from his pockets were sitting on top, and she grabbed the full bundle, returning to the living room to give them to him. "Don't worry about paying me, please. I-" She took a deep breath, figuring being assertive here wouldn't be the end of the world. "I won't accept any money. Pancakes, I should make those. Do you like yours with anything in them? Fruit, chocolate…?"

Having already gone through this the other night, Cala shook her head as she headed to the kitchen. It was an open concept, so he could see everything she did, and hear her fine. "You already thanked me verbally, that's more than enough." She assured, pausing in front of the fridge to stretch her arms up as high as she could. The scars on her stomach were visible, mostly because she had forgotten to throw on a shirt that would cover them. Yeong was unlikely to judge her for them, though. He likely had his own.

"Oh, good. I just bought a bunch of fresh strawberries. And yes, I make them myself." After grabbing a carton of eggs and carton of milk, she balanced a bowl of strawberries on the crook of her arm, shutting the fridge door with her hip. "Eating out constantly would get to expensive, to start. Not to mention this way, I can make as many as I want. The limitations of restaurant portions don't exist here." She said seriously, glancing out at him. "Do you drink coffee?"

Halfway through starting the coffee pot, Cala paused, thinking for a moment. Doc. Her heart briefly ached for a different set of circumstances. To be licensed, and practicing, and an actual doctor. "Crutches? Not in the tote, definitely, but….oh, I may still have the ones from when Hino broke his leg." She was half talking to herself, half to Yeong, something she did fairly often. Like she couldn't decide between thinking out loud and actually speaking to someone. "Just a second-" After pressing start on the coffee machine, she made her way to the guest room door.

There were, of course, more plants inside, and the room was mostly done being turned into a guest room. All she was missing was a bed, but at least the book shelf was full stocked. She rummaged around in the closet for a moment, before triumphantly pulling out a pair of crutches. "Found them! Do you want one, or two? Oh, and do you know what's wrong with your leg, or do I need to take a look?"