The warm afternoon sunlight was a glorious feeling against his shoulders while he worked on repainting the backyard wall, prepping it for his next project. The white paint against the red brick was jarring but gave him a sense of anticipation for what his mind will come up with to cover this wall with next. The last painting had been a lush forest at twilight with the beginnings of fairy lights peeking out from their hidden homes under toadstools or within the roots and undergrowth of the trees where they were safe from the tramping of curious creatures that came alive as the sun set. The deep tones of the fallen leaves being covered by the empty white doesn’t feel nearly as regretful as it did in the past, partially because he has grown to realize not all art needs to be permanent to be enjoyed but also because he has long before gained the habit of documenting his work in photographs.
While finishing up the last strokes of white over forest, a sound breaks the peace of the afternoon.
RING. DING. DING.
Oh, a text message. Putting the paint roller back into the empty tray to be cleaned later, he wipes any wet paint off on the damp cloth in the back pocket of his jeans and picks up his phone to see who was trying to reach him.
John
Hey! Rommy, the boys and I are getting together for a game night on Friday and wanted to know if you were up for hosting?
We were going to just ask if you wanted to come, but Brock's place is being fumigated again because one of his newbie witch neighbors managed to infest their trash shoot with enchanted silkworms.
Funny thing is, it's the younger brother of the last chick-witch who was trying to raise mystic snow moths that ended up getting out and eating all his nice shoes last year. Guess the kids share a hobby. Lol
Romulus chuckled at that, of course there was another insect issue at Brocks, for some reason the guy just has the worst luck with bugs. Brock was half convinced one of his exes hired a witch to mildly inconvenience him for the next year because he hates bugs of all kinds and this would be the sixth incident in two months. Romulus lets John know that he is chill with hosting as long as they provide equal compensation in the form of snacks and drinks. He knows a werewolf get together can quickly turn into a hangry brawl without good snacks from much experience. Wincing at the memories of past parties that ended up with broken furniture and overturned planters.
He tucks his phone into his pocket and stretches his bare arms over his head to release some tension and glances around the open backyard, making sure that none of the plants needed to be watered and that the trellis he installed last month wasn’t too weighed down by the jasmine slowly growing up it. He didn’t even need to consider how to set up his place for the guys, since they have been over plenty of times before and had brought old couches and furniture that litter his back patio, making it a cozy yet vibrant space that he enjoys many of his afternoons in. With everything in order for the moment, he heads inside to wash up and make himself a late lunch. While walking upstairs to the bathroom, he can hear soft classic rock coming through the wall from his neighbors. Oh. Right. Mikael. Ugh, they are finally at the not hating each other stage of their neighbor relationship, it would probably be a good idea to at least give him a heads-up that there are people coming over this weekend. Maybe he should bring over some wine to soften him up a bit.
The afternoon light barely seeps into the room through the tinted windows and thick, black curtains. Soft candlelight splashing against the deep red wallpaper brings a mellow warmth to the room while classic rock plays in the background. Long legs wrapped in black slacks lay along a sete leading up to a toned torso that rests against the padded arm. A book balanced on one knee just barely held in place by pale long fingers and a rough hand that has seen many years of focused work, that calluses run along the edges of the palm. The man lounged in the living room while his music played, and he enjoyed his newest novel about woodworking. The hobby has taken over more of his time as the years have gone, and his past solitude allowed him to truly invest in all aspects of it. Now that he has rejoined present society, more social obligations have become a priority due to the nature of where he chose to reside. Moving into a town house community with mixed supernatural and human residence was an active choice, and one that he hoped would allow him to truly begin living his own life again. Even if it is a slightly lonely one without his wife by his side any longer. Although some neighbors have made it a bit more trying than others during his integration into his new community.
Knock, knock. Rings out from the door in the front hallway.
Rising from his seat and marking his page before resting his book on the tea table beside it to be continued later. Slipping on the robe that was hanging on the coat rack by the doorway, he ties a loose knot before reaching out to open his front door. As it opens he gets a slight whiff of wet dog and immediately knows who it is, Romulus, the doorway clears and reveals him standing on the porch. Hair damp from a fresh shower and a bottle of white wine in his hand with a sheepish smile resting on his lips. Mikael can just tell he isn’t going to like anything that is about to come out of his neighbor's mouth, even if it is objectively an extremely good-looking one.
Ugh, keep it in your pants Mike you're not twenty anymore, show some freaking restraint.
“Hey Mikael! How’s your day going?” Romulus starts off with a somewhat hesitant tone. “I just wanted to stop by and see if you wanted this wine I got from Esme yesterday, she's trying to get some opinions on her newest stock. And I was thinking, who do I know that is a connoisseur of whites and could give some great feedback? So? Interested?”
Mikael squints a bit in suspicion at the over the top excuse. Leaning hard against the doorway while looking up at his neighbor to respond.
“Hmmm. Well, if you must know Romulus, I was enjoying a new novel I had picked up at the Fairy Book Nook last week and trying a new tea blend that I made.”
Nodding as if that was exactly what he suspected, Romulus leaned down a bit and took a small sniff of the surrounding air.
“Ooh, I’m getting hints of blackberry and pineapple. Seems interesting, hope that one sticks around.”
Mikael feels himself warm at his new proximity but refuses to show any discomfort to his nosy neighbor. Straightening his spine and pasting a smirk on his face, he replies, “It just might. But about that wine. I’m sure Esme gave that to you with the intention for you to be the taste tester, although you did bring it all this way. So with my clearly more refined palette, I’ll provide some notes.”
He steps aside and gestures for Romulus to follow him further into the hallway and off his front step. Romulus wipes off his boots and steps inside, shutting the door behind him.