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Clinging to Ashes (Translucentfeathers & Erebus)

translucentfeathers

translucentfeathers

Star
Joined
Oct 18, 2015
Location
Nowhere
Cara settled into the driver seat of her car, pushing a stray strand of honey toned hair from her eyes where the mess of wild untamed curls fell freely down her shoulders to her waist. With a hum she reached out and tugged the door shut before setting the key into the ignition, listening as her car rumbled to life beneath her before she pulled out of the parking lot of her current apartmenr building to begin navigating the streets.

It had been a while before since she had been in need of finding a new place. The apartment she currently resided in was just fine, but her current roommate decided once the lease was up she was moving in with her new boyfriend across town, which left Cara alone and with the recent spike in rent there was no way she could keep up with the rise in rate by herself. The quest to find a new place had begun, and she hated every moment of it. Time was running out and she scoured the advertisements desperately, every day she had off devoted to visiting new complexes, inquiring about rooms available in houses and every time she was met with creeps or dumps.

Cara tapped her foot idly, the black high rise lace up combat boots stained with paint thinner and scuffed beyond repair making a dull thud noise that was drowned out by the sound of the highway as she searched for the exit she was supposed to take. It had been a long day but the person who posted the advertisement said this was the only time she was willing to meet her to show Cara rhe living space and discuss the terms of the lease. So instead of a night in with her canvases and a pack of cigarettes she was running on fumes from a breakfast devoured almost ten hours ago with a nicotine fit looming over her shoulder.

Long fingers searched through her pockets and she hummed in approval as she located the pack of smokes and managed to pull out the last one. A few moments later and she was relaxing visably as she rolled down her window before pulling off on the exit that the poster of the ad had directed her to take. She blew a stream of smoke out of the cracked window, ignoring the bite of cold air in hopes of not smelling too much like a chimney when she first showed up. Cara kept out a watchful eye, studying the directions she had written on her hand while she drove, scanning the street signs to make the right turns.

When she pulled up to the place she took another long drag from her cigarette before opening her car door to flick the ashes away from the tip, effectively putting it out before tossing it in the little fold out ash tray before snapping it shut. She grabbed some gum to chew and straightened her hair a bit, brushing her fingers through the dark golden locks loosely before unfolding herself as she climbed out of the vehicle.

She took a moment, standing in the winter chill to study the place. It wasn't what she expected but it didn't look like a villain from a horror movie would come racing out wielding a bloody chainsaw so there was that. A nice apartment building, much nicer than what she could afford on her own and in a prime location, both close to downtown and the University. She fiddled with the long dark green sweater she wore, the thick soft woven fibers were a comfort, the long sleeves hanging below those of the heavy leather jacket that hung from her shoulders. Her jeans were thin and full of frayed holes but the grey leggings underneath kept her warm and stayed the cool air. Her scuffed and boots were laced tightly, coming up over her jeans to mid calf, the thick woolen socks inside of them peeked out over the edge of her boots while keeping her comfortable despite the weather.

Cara tossed her long hair over a shoulder, nimble fingers adorned with silver rings tucking the curls behind an ear sporting multiple studs and an industrial piercing as she walked up to the apartment building, walking inside the complex and hunting down the right door. Her dark blue eyes studied the door for a moment as she burrowed further into her jacket, a hand reaching out to knock firmly at the door as she shuffled her slender five foot four frame against the cold.
 

Marisa checked her appearance in the mirror. Light hazel eyes peered back, flecked with green and honeyed amber with the barest touch of eyeliner applied. Her hair was soft, dyed and walked the line between brunette and blonde, pulled back into a low pony-tail. Her choice of wear consisted of a striped, monochrome breton accompanied with lace up skinnies, casual and clean. She prided herself in maintaining a simple look but one that didn't make her look like a total shut-in. All in all, she was tidy and tidy meant she was happy and satisfied. Some people might have said that she put too much effort into meeting a potential roommate but those people were wrong. There was no such thing as too much effort, especially considering she might be living with the person.

She had a comfortable, steady source of income working as a career consultant for students given her relatively young age of twenty-three while also studying a little on the side. But even she couldn't afford the rent by herself. The apartment was situated in a convenient location surrounded by nightclubs, snack shops and it was close enough to the university that it wasn't a bitch of a commute. All in all, it was a great place to live and also incredibly expensive for one person to deal with. That was half the reason why she had to look for one in the first place. Her last roommate had been fed up with her, to the point where she'd simply given up and left without giving the two-week notice to their building manager - which honestly bothered her more at the time than the fact that she was roommate-less.

She pulled herself away from the bathroom, double checking that the appropriate lights were on and off and that everything was clean and wiped down. She would like to believe that every corner of the apartment had been cleaned and dusted (by yours truly the night before) but she was convinced that she had missed something. Well, it didn't matter if the apartment awed her potential roommate. Rather, she was incredibly picky and if the applicant wasn't up to standards... well, Marisa was at a loss. She really wanted to stay in this location, but she also needed help... she could probably deal with the problem once it happened.

Crunch time. The knock on her door resounded through the apartment and it was a terrifying sound to behold. She inhaled deeply and smoothed her top down before walking over to answer the door with a dazzling smile. "Welcome. Please come in." The first thing she noticed was the woman's unruly hair and her choice of dress. Combat boots that looked like it'd seen more wars than she had with her vacuum cleaner and so many piercings she'd need at least ten minutes to count them out individually. She stood to the side to let the woman inside, resisting the urge to ask them to take their shoes off before going in. It wasn't looking good, that much was for sure, but Marisa had always been told to never judge a book by its cover... though with this woman's cover, how could she do anything but not judge?

When the woman passed her, Marisa was aware of the smell almost instantly. Having plucked many a carton from her late mother's paws, the distinct scent was burned into her memory. She pressed her lips together tightly, not willing to say anything that might be seen as rude. Visibly wrinkling her nose, she reminded herself that it was a rude thing to do and instead changed her expression into a pleasant smile. This girl, Cara, having remembered her name at last from their talk over the phone, had been only one of the few applicants. After the other people had met her, she was described as overbearing and overly complicated. So Marisa was down to her last option and she could already tell that option was not her first one.

"So, would you like me to show you around?" She said. "Do you have any questions for me?"
 
When the door opened, Cara glanced up, eyes widening slightly as she took in who she assumed was 'Marisa' as their correspondence had entailed; they were both so different. From her delicately applied eyeliner to the orderly way she seemed to present herself, every hair in place, clothing clean and immaculate. With a soft frown Cara shifted and moved through the door, feeling the weight of a judgemental stare being passed down onto her from those hazel eyes. It was unnerving. The other woman seemed to be keeping a straight face and an air of calm though, and it made her hopeful they would be able to discuss things in at least a somewhat civil way despite the already glaring differences in lifestyle.

"Maybe we could discuss the roommate agreement first?" She replied easily. The apartment was was large and in a great central area and a lot closer ro her work and school than where she was living now. She could easily see moving into the space with no qualms about the physical apartment...just maybe with her new roommate. "Go over rules and boundaries you have since it would be me moving into your established space essentially."

"We can discuss guidelines and make sure we would be somewhat compatable," she shrugged even as her eyes roamed over the living room. "Then if you think we can live together you can get my hopes up on this place with an official grand tour. No point looking around if you wouldn't be interested in potentially living together, you know?" Cara knew she would be able to stomach an uppity perfectionist as long as the other woman didn't cross into her personal space.
 
Mari knew she could be intimidating at times, and it worked to her benefit more often than not. However, she noticed the small frown that marred the other woman's features and quickly realized that she might lose a potential roommate before the proper first impression could be made. She tried to ease herself into a more casual stance, loosening her rigid shoulders and applying a better-than-nothing smile on her glossed lips. "Of course." Was her reply as she shut the door with a soft click. Agreements and contracts were her forte and it was a comfortable territory for her.

She had a manila folder packed with forms to sign resting on the kitchen counter but that could wait until later. Marisa bit back the urge to turn the sentence around and proclaim Cara as the difficult individual, knowing that would only make things worse. "First off, smoking. Smoking in the apartment or anywhere inside the building is a big no-no. We do have a small balcony but I prefer any lit cigarettes be taken away from the premises. I'd actually prefer there by no smoking at all but..." She muttered the last bit.

"Drinking is acceptable but only before nine and any acquaintances or special friends must leave before ten, nine if drinks are involved. In the same vein, distractions such as loud music and electronics turned up to a high volume are prohibited if the other roommate is present. There is no light's out curfew but sleeping schedules and comfort must be respected. We will rotate cleaning duties such as bathroom and general upkeep along with sharing the costs for grocery shopping. Meals and cooking will also be shared. Any broken appliances will be paid out of the pocket of the person who broke it... so on and so forth."

Marisa glanced at Cara to make sure she was still following. She knew that there was plenty more to go through but decided to stop there. It was getting a bit out of hand. She scooped up the folder and held it close to her chest. "Everything you need to know will be detailed in here, given that you're still interested." She knew that, roommate aside, the apartment was relatively perfect. Everything was where it should be, clean and tidy. There was not a single piece out of place. "Would you like a tour or shall I show you the door?"
 
Cara smirked a bit at the other woman, armed with her rules and papers. It was almost cute in a way when she bumped into people like this, ones who were wound up so damn tightly that they clung so desperately to what control they thought they had. Just gave her an excuse to get creative with finding loopholes and ways to unravel the bindings they tried to inflict on her...and Cara was good at unraveling things.

"Well," she said easily, after this Marisa had detailed the terms of her guidelines. "The smoking thing is fine, I get cigarettes aren't everyone's thing and will respect that. I will keep it to when I am driving and out and about with the exceptions of my days off or a particularly rough day, then I will use the porch." Like hell if she was going to quit for this girl or this apartment, though.

Cara folded her arms over her chest. "Your apartment, your rules with the alcohol, but I will let you know, I like to sometimes have a bit of wine when I am painting and I paint when the mood strikes me. I will try and keep it within your 'timeline' though." The woman never specify how early she could start and she thought one in the morning would be a brilliant time.

"As for my friends, I can just as easily go to one of their places to chill for a night and give you space with the ten o'clock kick out time if I am craving a later evening but what about overnight guests?" She took a moment to glance over the woman in front of her with a small grin. "I mean, I know what they say about quiet shut in types being wild between the sheets but you didn't specify rules for having someone spend the night. A single guest, overnight, restricted to the bedroom and gone before breakfast?" She asked, leaving it open for the other woman to think over.

Cara moved on tried to keep from laughing too openly at the next topic she was about to address. "Speaking of breakfast, I usually grab food on the go when I am out or a day was busy," like today, she thought bitterly when her stomach betrayed her at the thoughts of food and rumbled angrily. "If you want to insist on taking turns cooking and risk yourself to my distinct lack of culinary skills? Be my guest but I can't guarantee you will survive the experience. I would prefer to just do our own separate meals unless you wanna do pizza or take out and go in on it together." She shrugged. "Rotating cleaning and a you break it you replace it policy sounds fair enough to me."

"Now," she said with a small shrug and charming smile, "I think I will take that tour now...unless of course you are no longer interested and would like to show me the door." It was a risky call, the very slight mocking she knew may push the other woman over the edge if she had no sense of humor, though it was too difficult to resist an opportunity to potentially call this woman's bluff. She knew Marisa could have, probably would have turned her away right off of the bat from her appearance alone if she had any other choices lined up, so Cara played her hand in hopes that they were both desperate enough for this to work.
 
Marisa pressed her lips together thinly. She expected the woman to retaliate to some of her points, but she didn't think she would feel so strongly about it. "Actually, I would prefer that your smoking be taken far, far away from the complex. The smell is incredibly noticeable." She didn't want to add anything insulting like 'probably from you' but she was certainly thinking it. Her smile had wavered a little but not to the point where she thought it would be an issue. At the very least the woman hadn't been scared off by her long list of must-haves but rather she seemed to be going through them step by step.

It was one of the smaller things that irked her. "If the consumption of alcohol is on your lonesome, then there is no curfew," Marisa corrected with a subtle eye-roll. "And so long as you don't disturb the peace with said wine tasting then that would be for the better." Wait, painting? "Now that you mention your hobby... will your paints be an issue? I absolutely want zero splatters anywhere." She was about to include Cara's potential room into consideration before remembering that she didn't have the right to do so, considering the room would technically be her roommate's territory, that didn't make it separate from the apartment as a whole.

The blonde-brunette sighed. "The subject of overnight guests will have to be discussed on a case-by-case basis." She'd had her share of roommates trying to sneak their boyfriends or girlfriends in for the night, disguising them as casual on-the-side acquaintances that needed a place to stay. When it was made clear that Cara was speaking about something completely different, she felt her cheeks flush lightly. "I see. Restricted to the bedroom, minimal noise... the solitary roommate will have the right to move them from the apartment into a more suitable location if noise is an issue." Marisa gave a pointed glance at Cara, "But I'd expect these things to be discussed beforehand."

"Cooking won't be an issue. I happen to enjoy it. So long as you pay for the necessary ingredients and groceries, then I will be more than willing to provide dinner for the both of us. I understand roommates prefer to go their separate ways when it comes to food but where a tight budget is present, homemade meals is a cheaper option." Marisa had learned to cook from a young age and while she wouldn't call herself a master chef, she knew enough to get by. Maybe Cara was trying to get out of the responsibility, and she didn't want to force her roommate to take their turns cooking... at least, not yet.

"A tour then." Marisa said promptly, discarding the folder back to the kitchen table as she guided the woman around. A relatively expensive looking television upheld by a wooden desk and a single leather sofa in front of it accompanied by a glass coffee table with a tidy stack of Gossip magazines tidied on the side. "That's the lounge," she pointed before moving toward the bedrooms. There was one on either side of the walls, directly opposite each other. "This is mine," she gestured to the right. "Left is yours. Decorate as you see fit." The bathroom was shown along with the laundry machine. The porch too was given a brief introduction but Marisa was rolling through it rather quick and they were back to the kitchen in no time.

"Kettle works. Oven works. Everything is always working, everything is neat and tidy... and you know of its convenient location." She tapped her fingers on the folder. "What do you think?"
 
She kept quiet, listening to her rebuttle and knowing she had struck a few nerves. Cara remembered the woman saying it was 'preferable' if she smoked far away from the complex and would refer to that if she tried to beg issue with her stepping out on a cold night to their balcony for a quick nicotine fix. The mentioning of her painting had her shaking her head quickly, face serious. "You won't need to deal with a mess. When I work on art it would be in my room and no where you could see, and despite my appearance," she hummed easily. "I am a tidy person and keep a clean space, that means no splatter, or stains of any kind. If something unforeseeable were to happen like a drop of paint getting somewhere it shouldn't? I would take full responsibility and fix it, same as if one of us broke something."

Cara noticed the flush that raced over the other woman's cheeks and her grin broadened dangerously. Oh that was....that was interesting. She smirked as she watched her explain her terms. "Understood, no screams of breathless passion will be disturbing your beauty sleep. But do you really want me rising you from the grave everytime I bring home a one night stand to ask for your permission? I mean, I usually get home a little past your bedtime," she said with a grin. "But I don't pick up randoms and usually know them through a friend of a friend at least, and if I come home past ten you won't hear me enter or them exit the apartment. Scout's honor."

The statement about pushing Cara to buy all of the food while all Marisa did was cook a few dinners had her biting her tongue as she waited until the end of the 'tour' before she would address it.


"Look, you wanna cook a meal for me? Whatever, do your Martha Stewart, stepford wives thing, but I am not going to be going out and dropping half my paycheck each week to pay for intricate little dishes that I may not even have time to eat due to my schedule. Howabout we compromise," she said, lightly. "If I move in we make up a list of meals we both agree to go halves on for dinner, because I am sorry, you are right...eating on a budget? It does make sense and is more affordable to do homecooked meals-but your scenario only financially beneifts you if our arrangement is for me to pay for dinner each night for the both of us while all you do is cook."

Cara waited for a moment to let her words sink in as she leaned against a counter quietly watching the other woman. "Instead? How about we go halves, regardless of who cooks. I can afford a one dollar burger from a fast food chain a lot easier than I can afford to pay for groceries to feed both you and I every night. I do want to contribute though so we are even, so any time you cook a meal I clean up, that way we both put in the same amount of money so it isn't a stretch or burden for either of us, and we both physically take an active role in the process of a meal. I'm not going to end up paying for all of the food while all you do is cook-been with a roommate who tried that and I ended up paying for her expensive eating habits that I never even got to enjoy because I was always stuck working late or caught on a strict deadline and left me struggling to make ends meet for rent. We are both adults, I'm not your spouse bringing home the bacon while you play housewife in the kitchen but I do respect your idea and think we can make it work in a way that is beneficial to us both. If splitting dinner costs and agreeing together to a list of meals though is too much for you," she shrugged. "Well it's up to you, but I would hope it would be and if we can agree to that compromise I will sign the lease now and be moved in tomorrow morning."

Cara waited arms folded over her chest for a response, knowing full well Marisa could say no and show her the door. Hell, Cara was almost expecting it at this point. But she stood firm, not willing to potentially risk financially compromising herself with a rule she felt could be viewed as unfair and had the potential to screw her over and unable to make rent payments. Besides, there was a basement apartment she might be willing to go back to if she became that desperate...though the owner was reminded her of a horror flick villain and she didn't want to end up in a hole with lotion being lowered to her in a basket like in Silence of the Lambs.
 
"If you're going to wake me up anyway, then I'd prefer it be done with a simple knock. I'm a light sleeper." She absolutely did not want anything disturbing her, be it from natural noise or otherwise. The odd horn tooting and boisterous drunk college students were fine but the walls separating the apartment rooms were sinfully thin. It was incredibly easy to rouse her from her dreams and subsequently, her ire. On the other hand, Cara had a point. Did she really want to be privy to the knowledge that something or rather might be happening in the room opposite her? She'd hear it anyway if they were particularly loud. Marisa frowned to herself. It was common courtesy, wasn't it... then again, she's never had to do it. All she remembered was being unable to sleep when her now estranged father and boyfriend-of-the-night got it on like jackrabbits.

After all, she made sure that her past roommates had taken their flouncing elsewhere. Just imagining the residue in her apartment was enough to make her shudder. She'd even gone in to clean their rooms once or twice, even if they adhered to her rules and rubbed it down themselves, one couldn't be too careful. Judging by her first impression of Cara, she was willing to bet that there would be a lot of that. "We'll discuss it later." She said finally, hoping the trial run might go smoother in reality than it did in her head. That was her answer to everything. If she couldn't come up with a solution now, she'd come up with one later, and presumably soon. Loose ends made her antsy. People called her a psychopath, she called it taking definitive action. "For now just take it into account..."

Marisa inhaled softly, but the sound couldn't be mistaken for anything but quiet irritation. "What I meant was... if you wanted a meal, you will have to provide the ingredients yourself. Groceries carry only the essentials. Bread, milk, butter, so on and so forth." She scowled lightly. "Don't assume something so crass. I wouldn't make you pay for all of our meals." She could already tell that this woman might prove difficult, considering the speed in which they were already butting heads. She didn't want to sit around and discuss something so trivial when signatures weren't even on the paper yet. And if she thought about it, it was a minuscule thing. Paying for food wasn't an issue for her. "We'll do it your way then. Naturally we can discuss problems when they arise but for now, that's fine." Giving up so easily left a bad taste in her mouth but she knew finding another roommate would be too difficult.

With that and the tour done and dusted, only one thing remained: making everything official. Despite their obvious differences, Marisa was almost determined not to give in. While the contract did hold some weight to it, she knew that it could always be changed at a later date or at least revised to suit both (her) needs. She wasn't willing to compromise her entire living space to this stranger who was already making demands, having not spent even a single hour in her apartment. She retrieved her precious folder and flipped it open. Roommate agreement sheets which required signatures on every page detailing everything the brunette-blonde had talked about earlier and more accompanied more important financial contracts including rent payment.

She sat the stack of paper on a round, compact dining table and slipped a blue Bic pen next to it. "This is for you." She gestured. "I've marked the ones you need to sign and once you've done that, I'll take the necessary papers to my-- our landlord and take care of the rest." The way the apartment was set up was a little strange. It was basically a small complex on a plot of land but situated around it were apartments of the same make and size. It was a mix between an actual house and a flat. "After, I can help you get settled if you have a lot of belongings to unpack." Marisa folded her arms and lifted a brow. "If we're in agreement."
 
Marisa wasn't someone who normally negotiated, that much was evident, Cara could see it in her body language and hear it in the slight huff of irritation. This was going to be an experience, but even if this potential new roommate turned out to be a bit of a control freak, it was still the best potential living space she had seen to date.

Cara glanced over at the small round dining table, her arms folded over her chest as she contemplated just what she was going to do. It didn't take long before she walked over, bending at the waist to begin filling out the necessary paperwork and sign the documents where needed. She set the pen back down and glanced over every page a second time to ensure she hadn't missed anything before shutting the folder, picking it up delicately to hand back to Marisa.

"I need to run back to my place for the night and pack but should be ready to move in by tomorrow morning." In truth she was mostly packed and had been tentatively living out of a large overnight bag as a means of being prepared should an opportunity arise such as this. The offer to help had her raising an eyebrow as a slow amused smile crossed her face.

"I mean...if you want to. Would hate to cause you any trouble," she said easily, leaning a hip against the table. "But by all means if you want to waste a day tomorrow sorting through paint tubes and helping me unpack my clothes? Be my guest."
 
It was fruitless. She was already in possession of the bundle of signatures, which she held onto tightly, which meant that there was no reason to maintain her polite charade. "It was a friendly gesture, but I guess you don't want that." Marisa said curtly, pursing her lips. In reality, it was a bit more than that. She didn't like the idea of things being put in places she didn't approve of, but even she was aware of how ridiculous that sounded. Besides, it could have very well been an offer of truce, she reasoned with herself.

Drumming her fingers against the folder lightly, she glanced at her soon-to-be new roommate, "Like I said, I'll get these to the landowner by tonight and get you a key." It was still early enough that she could give them a call and have it all sorted before the 'big moving day'. Plus she needed to clean out the room. All Cara needed to do was show up though if she continued with her current judgement, that might be too much to ask for.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." Marisa continued, trying her best to maintain some modicum of professionalism. "You've still got my number so let me know if anything happens." She didn't want to drag this on any longer than needed, and now that she had another goal in mind, she was determined to wrap this up quickly. Sauntering over to the door, she unlocked and opened it.

"Make sure you're here tomorrow, 11am sharp." And when she said sharp, she really meant sharp. Hopefully Cara would get the gist of it sooner or later. "Thanks for dropping by."
 
Cara could see Marisa's attitude changing, her patience thinning when she had gotten her hands on the paperwork. It looked like the slight attempts of familiarity was all an act...two could play that game. Now the paperwork was signed as long as she didn't blatantly break any of the terms? She felt she could be little bit more herself. Cara felt her stance relax as her eyes roamed over Marisa, a slow smirk spreading over her features.

"All right, Marisa," she hummed as she took a step forward. "See you tomorrow at eleven...sharp," she said easily, having moved into Marisa's space, breaching personal boundaries and enjoying it since she had a distinct feeling Marisa would be the type to push her own boundaries later. "Thanks for having me," she said with a smirk, hand reaching out to tuck the tiniest stray strand of that blonde-brown hair that had fallen loose back into place.

With a brief good bye, and not waiting for a reaction or response, she turned quickly and showed herself out, making her way out of the building and down to the street she had left her car parked on. It was a quick drive home and the night seemed to race by as she spent it packing her little car with all of her belongings and worldly possessions. In the morning as soon as her leasing office opened she went inside turned in her keys before she began the drive to her new home.

Cara knew in the long run this probably would end horribly but the lease agreement she had signed had been for at least six months, so she would have a few months cushion to locate a new place should Marisa become too...overbearing. tough Cara had to admit that a small part of her liked the challenge. Tucking a stray honey blonde curl behind her decorated ear she loved the idea of boundaries and limits being put on her that she would break and shatter and find loopholes to. Then again she had always been that way. She pulled up five minutes to eleven, and parked her car in a space near the entrance of the complex before going inside, carrying a heavy box, her overnight bag slung over her shoulders.

Cara kicked at the door heavily, her booted foot making the knock sound like a dull thud while she worked to balance the box in her hands while waiting for Marisa to open the door.
 
Still attempting to play the role of a good host, albeit one taken almost to the end of her thinning patience, she remained situated near the door to at least show the woman out. She ignored the loose, almost mocking repetition of her own words and opened her mouth to reply... then promptly pressed her lips tightly together. Cara had, for some reason unfathomable to her, decided that it would be a good idea to physically insert herself into, well, restricted territory. Marisa would have lifted a hand to swipe the other woman away if not for the acute fear of dropping her precious cargo.

Instead, she flinched back, her ears burning and tingling where Cara's fingers had brushed against her skin. Her brows drew together in almost thunderous rage but she was still too shocked to respond appropriately as her roommate waltzed out without another word to her goodbye and disappeared. It went without saying that Marisa disliked being touched by strangers and consequences were usually more severe than a mere, angry glare. After quickly shutting and locking the door, she went straight to the bathroom to scrub her ear and hands without pause for the next five minutes and fixing her hair.

After performing the necessary cleansing, she was feeling much better. There was still that slight tingle but one she would deal with once she presented all the documents and related forms, exchanging the contracts for another key. There would be other forms to fill out but for now she was satisfied. She returned to her apartment at little over five in the evening, busying herself for the next hour or so hauling out her belongings from the spare room in preparation. She vacuumed, wiped the windows and flapped out the curtains. There was no bed, only a single bare mattress laid out on the ground. She only considered adding clean sheets and a duvet for a brief moment before deciding that Cara would likely have some of her own.

Roommates were a pain but a necessary one, Marisa reminded herself as she filled the rest of her night with her own time. Fixing herself dinner only reminded her of the 'failed' negotiation and left her in too sour a mood to do anything else but crawl into her own bed. Her room was almost as sparse as the one opposite it, with only an abstract painting hanging above the headboard. A desk nestled in the corner with a small laptop, textbooks atop and a bedside table with a lamp was what remained of her furniture. Clutter bothered her to no end and the less belongings she had out in the open, the easier it was to clean. The rest of what she had remained in either boxes kept in her small closet or she kept in drawers.

xx

Morning was late to the greeting as Marisa was already up and about even before the light began to seep through her drawn blinds. While it wasn't her moving day, there was always secondhand anticipation. Not excitement, but dread. Remnants of that unwanted physical contact burned fierce in her memory and it was largely the reason why she was up so early. Two hours before her usual waking time.

Eleven was rolling around and a low, unhealthy sounding thud pulled her from her studies. Marisa glanced at the clock, clicking her tongue. Three minutes early. Well, it could have been three minutes late, she reasoned before hauling herself from her desk and opened the door. "Good morning," she said politely, her eyes immediately drawn to the large box perched in Cara's grasp. She remembered how the woman reacted to her offers of assistance and bit the inside of her cheek lightly, grudgingly taking the chance. "Need help?"
 
Cara didn't miss the polite begrudging tone or look that Marisa seemed to have for her. It had her grinning slightly and womdering if it had anything to do with the way things ended last night or just Marisa's general displeasure with her. With a small shake of her head she arched her eyebrows. "Nah, would hate for you to break a nail, hurt your pretty clothes or pulls a muscle. Medical bills and seamstress fees aren't exactly worked into my budget," she said with a slight smirk as she walked inside. "If you would just be willing to open doors? I can do the heavy lifting. An old friend of mine is going to be bringin' over my mattress in his truck around noon. Well...noon my time, suppose it might be good to synchronize out watches so I can be sure to not disappoint your strict time keeping." Or do so knowing down to the second how much she was pushing.

Cara headed back to what was going to be her room, nodding at the door in a silent request for Marisa to help her again. She shifted, the large oversized blue green sweatshirt she wore hung loosely over her frame, the same tattered jeans from yesterday fitted over her legs, this time with bright pink leggings peeking out through the holes, clashing brilliantly with the cooler tones of the hoodie. The boots were the same though, with thick black woolen socks peeking over to tops where they rested at her mid calf.

"I mean, I could always kick the doors in if you would rather chill inside...figured you wouldn't much care for that though," Cara said brightly as she glanced over with a wink.
 
Marisa decided to ignore her roommate for the time-being, considering it a test-run for the near future as she resisted the urge to close the door right on the woman’s face. Contracts were binding, after all, and she only had to live with this for six months before she could look for a replacement. She had no doubt that the other didn’t intend to stay for an extended visit either. She pressed her lips together tightly, shutting the door behind Cara and following after her, regarding the unfortunately colored pullover behind the blonde’s back along with the general wear and tear of the entire outfit. She briefly wondered if Cara couldn’t afford proper clothes before realizing that to some people, this was a fashion statement.

Another blatant attempt at riling her up was met with a cool shake of her head as she swerved past the live-in troublemaker, turning the knob and pushing inside. “I suppose you don’t need this mattress then if you have your own,” she questioned, gesturing to the one already nestled in the room. She tutted lightly, her thoughts not on the inconvenience of moving the thing, but rather where she was going to store the extra; her room was way too small and she didn’t really like the thought of stacking the mattress against a wall. Her landlord could potentially take it away, but then she might not get it back. She could always sell it.

With a small sigh, she brushed past Cara has if she was another corner to turn, as if the room wasn’t already taken and placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head at the forlorn looking furniture. It was a single, hardly large and looked more like an airbed if nothing else. A proper funeral could be made for it later but for now, she busied herself with gripping the edge and, with surprising strength, hauled it onto its side in preparation to pull it out if the way was clear.
 
"Well, I mean if you have grown so physically attached to the thing I could always ask my friend to hold onto mine for whenever our arrangement ends," she said as she set down what she was carrying. Her eyes did widen at the sheer strength the other girl possessed and Cara raised an eyebrow appreciatively. She would have thought the other woman to be more worried about mussing up her hair and clothing and definitely did not expect a show of strength like this. "I will give him a call, quite your grunting and heaving," Cara teased, waving a hand as she tugged out her cellphone and called her friend as she slipped back out the room to head back outside for more boxes.

Cara wondered exactly how this was going to play out as she ended the call, luckily Jonathan was more than willing to store her mattress in his basement, which was promising in case the proverbial 'shit hit the fan' here. Lighting up a cigarette she took a few heavy drags as she tried to push back the way that Marisa had treated her almost like she was just an obstacle to pass by and move around. Not to mention the sigh the other woman had made was going to become an absolute pet peeve of hers if Marisa made it whenever Cara did or said something she didn't agree with.

Shaking her head she finished her cigarette, grabbing two lighter boxes, making her way back upstairs and not really caring if Marisa complained of the smell. Honestly, Cara hoped slightly the other woman did complain.
 
“It has nothing to do with physical attachment” Marisa bit back lightly. “I’m merely explaining that if you have one of your own, then this will just be a waste of space in an already small room.” She honestly believed that Cara was being intentionally particular. The woman wasn’t exactly subtle either, not so much as pushing her buttons as she was slamming every possible limb against whatever she thought would piss Marisa off more. It would have worked if the attempts hadn’t been so awkwardly unbelievable.

When Cara excused herself from the room, Marisa let out a long, frustrated breath. The mattress sat on its side and she wondered if she should move it anyway, just to be difficult, before deciding that it would be too much of a hassle for her. Especially since the blonde could simply call her friend for a mail-order mattress. She left it as it was, stepping over boxes and telling herself off for the desire to kick over a couple, knowing that the mess she’d make would annoy her more than her insufferable roommate.

She made her way back to the kitchen for a drink of water; dealing with people like Cara always gave her a bit of a headache when the door opened. Her roommate had returned with more of her belongings and bringing with her the unmistakable stench of nicotine and hundreds of other pollution scented particles. Marisa wrinkled her nose, her glass almost overflowing at the momentary distraction. She twisted the tap shut and took a big gulp of cold water, ignoring, ignoring…

Marisa couldn’t. “Maybe use something other than cigarettes as a perfume.”
 
Cara smiled and winked at the other woman, "And what, miss out on the cute way you scrunch up your nose whenever I walk by? Believe me Marisa, nicotine is what is keeping me from losing my everloving-" she probably shouldn't start swearing in front of the prim and proper woman in front of her, "-mind." Cara made her way back to her room, resetting the mattress after she put down the boxes before making another quick trip to her car again, this time offering the silence the other girl seemed to be craving so Marisa could ignore her. It took a few more brief trips while she gathered the last of her possessions from her vehicle, her last time Cara parked her car in the lot, walking the short distance back to the building with a final box of art supplies and a few canvases tucked under her arm.

Cara made her way back into the apartment, dropping the box and canvases gently onto the mattress before smoothing a hand over the chaotic mess of curls she had tied back before returning to the living room to see where her roommate had gone. "So," she called out easily. "What exactly do you do for fun? Twiddling your thumbs and or dusting doesn't count."

Cara dropped herself onto the couch, ignoring the aches in her body brought on by a stressful week and then a move today. She knew she should unpack but Cara felt exhausted and just needed something to let her mind escape a bit, to relax and unwind and hopefully work out some of the tensions she felt.
 
They were so far past an impasse that it seemed almost irreparable to the blonde-brunette, who shook her head mutely. It was an interesting development, she had noted after Cara quickly diverted her language to safer territories. She wasn’t beyond cursing to herself and she honestly couldn’t care less if her roommate had a sailor’s mouth. But she knew that was how people saw her, church-going, cleanliness akin to holiness, all that. In truth, knowing that things were clean was the only thing that kept her mind sane and in the same vein, it made her insane. Marisa quickly realized that her thoughts were straying so she quickly busied herself with scrubbing her glass and drying until not a single drop of water remained before setting it back in the cupboard.

By the time she was done with that, Cara had brought the last of her belongings into the apartment. Fortunately she hadn’t been called on to help with doors again, Marisa thought to herself sourly as she remained seated on one of chairs tucked into the little table, flipping through the pages of a magazine yet not really digesting the pregnancy of another famous red-carpet walker. She glanced up at the sound of her roommate’s voice, the sound drifting as Cara fell onto the couch.

Fun was subjective; she bit her tongue from replying as much. “Read, study,” she answered shortly, her eyes wandering down a list of ingredients for a lasagna. She supposed a conversation was in order to avoid any awkward silences… not that it wasn’t already awkward. “Hang out with friends. There are a lot of clubs around here, places you can go bar-hopping if that suits your interests.” She reminded herself to buy some air freshener when she was able to. “Jazz clubs too.”
 
Cara let out a dismissive snort, at the first two options, the second had her curious as to who exactly would be friends willingly with Marisa. The last two suggestions had her eyebrow arching as did the final one as she turned on the couch, kneeling on it, arms resting on the back as she faced the wrong direction, eyes locking onto Marisa. "You...you go bar hopping and clubbing?" She asked, not even bothering to hide the shock and small smirk covering her face. "You don't strike me as the type who would be caught dead knocking back shots and grinding on a dance floor. The sweat, the lights, the sheer sexually charged atmosphere and lust rolling through the crowd..." Cara shrugged as her smirk sharpened. "Maybe I am wrong, though. Maybe it is your scene and you've been hiding a little wild side?"

It did leave a question in the air though, and she realized how little she knew about the other girl at the table. "Question time," she hummed. "So, do you have like a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something?" Maybe the other was involved in a strict relationship with a feather duster...or she could be asexual, she had never met anyone like that before but could somehow see that being a potential answer.
 

Her obsession with keeping things clean only meant anything in her own home. Everywhere else, she was a little less anal about though there were some instances where she had kept herself in the bathroom for a full twenty minutes in order to scrub off some lipsticked slur on the mirrors. "Not often," she admittedly quietly, closing the magazine and abandoning all hopes with it to keep her interest. "I don't really go clubbing but..." Bar hopping was more her poison or more specifically, those jazz lounges she had hinted toward. Her friends were little more than coworkers and acquaintances, but ones she kept around in order to maintain an air of sociability. They didn't know much about her and she didn't know anything about them. It was a symbiotic relationship.

The truth would have rung the same for her roommate had she left it all out in the air. Marisa didn't consider herself a prude, but her tastes were beyond mortal comprehension. Boys, girls, it didn't matter so long as they kept themselves clean... among other things. But Cara certainly didn't need to know that portion of her life. "Maybe once or twice, but no," she replied with a shrug, turning her chair slightly so that she could actually see the blonde's reaction should there be any. "Yourself? Got a boyfriend to bring over? Girlfriends?"
 
So, she was single. It was an odd thing, the small grin that crossed her face at the idea of a world of possibilities, teasing and flirting she could begin to incorporate without fearing the wrath of some hapless significant other. Cara shook her head briefly, "Nothing serious as of late, just the occasional quick one nighter to take the edge off every now and again. You ever need help relaxing," she said with a jerk of her chin, eyes dark, "You let me know yeah? I can think of a few ways to help you loosen up that tight grip you hold on everything."

Cara waggled her eyebrows a bit, as she eyed her roommate. Nothing like a hot and dirty hate fuck to leech the stress out of you and calm tensions. It had her push off the couch and getting to her feet as she walked over to lean against the table Marisa sat at, half sitting on the ledge next to where the magazine lay discarded. "Of course you don't seem like the type who would ask or let someone know, are you?"
 
Marisa didn't really want to know what Cara was implying, her only misfortune being that she already did. She might have expected it too, had her roommate not been looking at her with disdain riddled in her eyes. She wasn't expecting the blonde to reply, having either missed her subtle jab, ignored it entirely or didn't care either way. The answer didn't surprise her though, at least one thing matched up with the other. "I'll keep that in mind," she said flippantly, discarding that idea within a single heartbeat. She wouldn't even begin to imagine just what was going through that girl's mind. She told herself it was just a prank, that she shouldn't take everything so seriously though it was hard not to.

She was all too willing to let the comment slide but the sudden appearance of the blonde by her side jarred her enough that she almost jolted out of her chair. Cara was close enough that Marisa could smell the residue of cigarettes on her person and that was enough to make her wrinkle her nose unintentionally. The smell wasn't unpleasant per say, but it did elicit unwanted memories. "I don't know what you mean," she said feigning ignorance though unwilling to take this encounter lying down. "I don't normally ask people to help me clean."
 
The very unsubtle wrinkle of Marisa's nose had Cara grinning, eyes narrowing in on the other woman. If she was feeling nicer she might take a shower, rinse of the days sweat and grime and apparently the stale smoke Marisa was scenting off her. Actually a shower sounded simply divine and quickly won her priority, though she still wanted to make her new roommate squirm a bit, perhaps more after she washed. Cara wasn't sure she would be able to keep a straight face if she tried seducing Marisa and all she got was a wrinkling of the nose.

A hook curled around the edge of Marisa's chair and she jerked it closer, turning herself enough to face the other woman while forcing her to face Cara. She leaned in, eyes dark, a playful smirk on her features. "Don't mean cleaning. Mean if you needed a hot dirty fuck to ease some of that tension you carry," she purred, fingers reaching out to trace over the side of Marisa's throat, "I feel like you wouldn't be willing to ask for it...like you would need someone to coax and tempt you into it. Probably need someone else to even initiate things for you, wouldn't you?" Cara asked, eyebrow arching slightly.

"Tempting notion really, wonder what you look like in the throes of passion. You lose that hard scowl you always seem to be wearing when you orgasm? Let your body be rocked so hard it forces your little irritated mask slip?" She smiled hungrily, having leaned in closer and closer with every word until their faces were a breath away. "Too bad the smoke smell bugs you so much, otherwise I would be willing to haul you out if that chair and bend you over this table," Cara muttered as her grin grew. "Still might actually, but not before a shower."

Cara straightened, moving awsy quickly as she pulled back. Then with a smirk as she turned and began walking down the hall, stripping off her hoodie as she went. "You're welcome to join me of course if the wet and wild shower scene is more your thing. I will leave the bathroom door unlocked for you," she called before slipping into the bathroom and cracking the door. She knew it was cruel to run off without waiting for responses, but she felt like it would edge the girl worse if she refused to let her respond, walked off and wouldn't let her control the situation. Cara waited for the water to warm while she slipped out of the rest of her clothes.
 
Like she'd be taught so many times in the past, she counted to ten silently in her head slowly, then backwards just as slowly as her chair rocked in Cara's grip; truthfully, she was somewhat impressed by the woman's strength though the feeling quickly evaporated as the blonde drew closer. Once again, she dared to reach out, caressing the stricken woman's neck. No doubt she would feel the tense tendons there as Marisa's body stiffened almost to the point of no return. She could feel her ears burning, cheeks following suit quickly as the other's coarse language broke through her internal counting, breaking the system and subsequently breaking her concentration. She had no witty response ready, no reaction planned in advance, nothing.

Her fair skin was positively burning, possibly from all that nicotine she was second-hand inhaling but more than likely due to the close proximity of her new knows-no-bounds roommate. It affected her not to the point of arousal, but to something akin to a deer-in-headlights. Her dark eyes were wide, pupils dilated, her neck craning back even though her spine was trapped against the hard backing of the chair. She licked her lips habitually, her intention not to incite but to wet the dryness there, finding her throat parched once again. Finally she had the wherewithal to break her gaze away, flicking it non-noncommittally to the side and grimaced. "Th-that would be unhygienic." She murmured in response.

When the girl finally left, the air was no less stifling than it was. Marisa stood shakily, her hand trembling as she steadied herself on the table. Never had she met an individual so forthcoming, joking or not, a breech of personal space was not something she experienced often and Cara had done it twice within a span of two days. She couldn't use the bathroom to scrub herself clean again, not with her roommate already occupying it. She shuddered at what implications her entering would proffer and quickly banished the notion. Her neck and throat burned as did her nose as she gamboled uncomfortably toward the sink. Though there was no real difference in water, she still eyed the tap nervously.

Quick to remind herself of the alternative, Marisa ran the cold water beneath her hands and splashed it against her heated skin, feeling the icy streams drip down her shirt and matting the fabric in her haste. She didn't care. She scrubbed vigorously with her hands, unable to see and not needing to either way. Finally she splashed the water over her face and groped for a fresh dish towel to wipe her face with. The thought of using something other than an actual face cloth sickened her but she had nothing else. She made a mental note to spend an extra hour in the shower after Cara was done. But even the cleansing didn't work, she still felt set on edge and too fidgety to stay seated.

Grabbing a thick jacket, she checked for her keys and wallet before escaping into the cold air outside, inhaling deeply as she shut the door behind her. It wasn't often she felt the urge to drink herself to oblivion, and never so early in the day, believing that alcohol was never the answer for frustration but sometimes she didn't want an answer. Shoving her hands into her warm pockets, Marisa made her way to the cluster of clubs usually fraught with action only in the evening. She decided she would go to the library first before hitting any of the bars.
 
When she finished her shower, Cara stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her pale form as she went into her bedroom to change her normally wild blonde curls damp and pinned to the top of her head. She eyed the boxes quietly with a dismissive frown, knowing she should spend the evening unpacking but the very idea of devoting a second night in a row based around moving her things about haf her lip curling. No, a simple quiet night to unwind would be best.

Cara rifled through her over night bag before letting out a triumphant sond when she found a large oversized shirt that hung to her mid thighs, the soft worn material comforting and loose as it hung from her curves. Cara then threw on a simple little pair of black cotton underwear had her and she was ready to relax and quite possibly pass out on the couch. Knowing Marisa would probably start griping about a dress code rule for the common living area she steeled herself for the backlash she wad sure to get from her outfit and any residual anger from her previous advances.

The apartment was silent through and Cara noticed with a loe impressed whistle that Marisa must have ducked out while she was in the shower. It was almost comical the way that her roommate had fled after their brief, albeit intense, interactions with one another. With a happy sigh Cara flopped onto the couch, body bouncing when she hit the cushions before she flicked on the television. An hour or two later had her dozing off in front of some horrible made for television film.
 
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