Suite 111

Mar. 4th, 2008 01:21 pm
eleutherios: (Rain falls & I as well)
With one last shove, Eros manages to slide the couch into place.

Manual labour. Ugh. He finds himself recalling a time when worshippers would gladly decorate interiors on his behalf. Not anymore, apparently. If Goldy wants finely upholstered furniture for the living room of her newly-expanded suite, then that's what she gets - but Eros is the one who has to get it, using his own two hands.

This is probably his own fault. He should have remained all lofty and enigmatic. Far more befitting of a god. But no, he had to go and bear the child himself, and then he had to actually attempt to take part in raising it. The whole situation was a disaster waiting to happen.

So now here he is, taking orders from Goldy; comparing fabric swatches and searching for a wallpaper colour that will help tie the coffee table to the drapes.

Sigh.
eleutherios: (Feathers)
Eros stands outside of apartment 111, and waits. And winces.

"Hub bub bub bub."

"I hope you're not drooling again," he says, hesitantly.

"Bub bub bub bub."

"You are, aren't you?"

"Bub bub!"

"What did I tell you? If you're going to argue then you're going to have to use normal words like everyone else."

There is a long pause. Then, the voice which had previously been speaking nonsense says, "Down."

"Fine."

Eros complies, kneeling down and swinging the small child off of his shoulder, letting her stand on the floor. She wobbles slightly but stands upright, using one hand to grasp his trousers. Apparently pleased with herself, she turns to look up at Eros, fixing him with a stern look through her golden blond curls.

"Bear."

Brushing off his knees as he stands upright, Eros reaches for the pocket of his finely-tailored suit jacket, which is bulging in a most unfashionable manner - stuffed as it is with plush animal. After a brief moment of wrestling and one or two snapped stitches, he, grumbling, pulls out a teddy bear. It's not quite a regular teddy bear - for one thing it's been modelled more on a grizzly than anything else, and its tiny plastic fangs and claws clearly state: Serious Business.

The child takes the bear and immediately sticks its head into her mouth.

Eros continues his wait, watching the door and looking pained.

A minute or so passes.

Finally the little girl takes the bear's head out of her mouth again. "Open," she says firmly.

"It's not quite that simple," Eros mumbles.

The girl seems to consider this. "Open!" And she swings the bear like a weapon.

"No, wait, I'm not quite ready to -!"

But it's too late. The bear strikes the door three times with surprising force, resulting in a tone that could only be described as a knock.

Eros sighs, and covers his eyes with one hand. "Oh, here we go."
eleutherios: (Peeking)
The problem with Frank Sinatra is that he doesn't have many songs you can whistle the next day.

(Doesn't mean Eros isn't trying, though.)

There's sunlight shining in through the broad wall of windows that makes up one side of the cabin, more than enough to light up the open-concept kitchen. Every now and then Eros glances up and grins at the sight visible through them: a deck that leads to a sloping lawn, and just a short distance beyond that a long dock reaching out into a mirror-calm lake. Every now and then there's the sound of a loon, or the sight of a bird of prey above the pine trees.

Eros wiggles his bare feet against the ceramic tiles as he cooks. Hopefully Goldy likes bacon.

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Eros | Eric Eleutherios

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